Chapters Chapter 2 - You, Me and Nathan.
“Im such a dilemma. I want to distance myself from you, but yet, I don’t want to lose you.”
“What’s up, Discord,” I muttered, crossing my arms. “Haven’t seen you in some time. The last time I saw you was when you saved my ass from the feds.”
“Yes indeed, it has been a while. Truth be told, it is quite difficult tracking you down. Your race seems to have no magical traces on you whatsoever,” Discord rolled his eyes, prodding the floor with annoyance. “No matter, you are here, and we need to talk.”
“Talk? Talk about what? You’re practically a figment of my imagination and don’t say otherwise. Ironically, you pop up every time I seem to fuck up.”
“Purely a twist of fate, and as for me being nothing but the result of your sanity, it is completely not true. You are literally speaking to a talking puppy,” he said casually, his tail annoyingly swaying side to side. “So about that talk…”
“Later, I’ve got enough shit to deal with as you probably know since you are literally made up.”
The small pup face-pawed and sighed deeply. “Humph, you’re impossible.”
“You mean you’re impossible, considering you’re imaginary.”
Discord didn’t respond, nor did I see what he did as I opened the front door. I expected to see Nathan still sitting there, bawling his eyes out, but it looks like I was wrong. I heard the sound of the shower running upstairs. Looks like Nathan had the right idea. I wouldn’t want the blood of a prick on me either.
I stood there for a moment, taking in the scene. The aftermath of the confrontation with Jordan weighed heavily on my mind. The air felt thick with tension and unspoken words. My apartment, though small and rundown, was a haven for Nathan and me. Now, it felt tainted by the violence that had unfolded within its walls.
Discord’s presence, a bizarre blend of comfort and annoyance, reminded me of the surreal nature of my life. A talking German Shepherd puppy appearing during my darkest moments was just another layer of the chaos I navigated daily. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing thoughts.
Nathan’s resilience amazed me. Despite the horrors he had witnessed, he sought solace in the simplest of things—a warm shower, a moment of peace. I needed to protect that innocence, to shield him from the brutality of the world we lived in.
“Well, well, looks like you had a busy night. Let me guess, he slipped on a banana peel and banged his head, completely knocked out. Then, from the fall, the tomato ketchup miraculously made it all the way from the top cupboard onto his chest, where it went everywhere. Case closed, another marvellous job by yours truly. Detective Discord,” Discord cheered discreetly. I crossed my arms and continued to stare at him.
“What? It’s flawless. I can’t see it being anything else. My brilliant mind never lets me down,” he said, with a confident smug look. Somehow, he pulled out a fedora from behind his back, placing it atop his head. Okay, it made me chuckle. He was a dickhead but, at this moment, a cute dickhead.
“First of all, no. And second of all, where did you get that fedora from?” I raised a brow, looking at him with a grin.
“Okay, first of all, what do you mean by ‘no’? And second of all, it’s actually a trilby. See the brim? It’s two inches. A fedora has a three-inch brim. Get your hats right.” He pointed a paw at me, his tone tinged with annoyance. I raised my hands defensively.
“Shit, didn’t know my mind was a connoisseur in fucking hats. Maybe I should fuck my job off and start a business in fixing and making hats. Thank you so much for telling me the difference between a fedora and a trilby. Now kindly fuck off into my brain so I can get rid of this shithead.” I shouted, my accent coming out as my tone got louder. All the Scousers have it; even Nathan, at his age, has picked it up.
“It was a pleasure to open your eyes to such talents,” he bowed slightly. “But now I’m getting impatient with your foolery, Miss Mia,” he said sternly, tapping his paw and looking at his opposite foreleg as if there was a watch there… and yes, there was one. A Spongebob Squarepants watch, funnily enough.
“Foolery? Go on then, take your little ass to court with your shitty watch as my lawyer and explain how this prick is not dead but, in fact, covered in ketchup while unconscious. If you can do that, then maybe I’ll listen to you,” I said hysterically, throwing my arms up as I paced around the room. I eventually stopped at the window, shaking my head to myself. “What the hell am I still doing here? I should have grabbed Nathan as soon as I killed him and run, but instead, I’m talking to a fucking dog. Nineteen years old and I’m already losing my fucking mind,” I growled, speaking in a toneless voice, repressing my tears.
Slowly and gently, I wrapped my arms around myself and rubbed my arms to calm myself down. There was no noise from either of us for a long time; the only thing interrupting the silence was the sound of the shower and the distant hum of the streets below.
A few minutes later, I heard the pitter-patter of Discord walking on the carpet. “I’ll do one better, Mia,” he said in a strange voice I’d never heard from him before. Was it pity? Nah, for someone like him, he couldn’t take anything seriously; it’s not in his nature. The only thing he takes seriously is his fucking hats, apparently. Nah, what’s he up to? What does he want to talk about so much that he’d use that tone? He doesn’t care, and I know that for a fact. From day one, he’s looked at me like everyone else, ready to use me for their own gain, like a rat waiting to use me for a favor.
Suddenly, I felt something land on my head. It was light and didn’t feel like it fit me. Putting my thoughts on hold for the moment, I grabbed the beaver felt material off my head and was surprised to come face to face with the same trilby Discord wore, which was odd. I rubbed the brim between my fingers and thumb, feeling the woolly texture as if I was actually holding it, as if it was real. Unless…
Slowly but hesitantly, I turned and began to reconsider who I was really dealing with. When I turned, I came face to face with the puppy, sitting on the arm of the couch, waiting expectantly. But my living room… it was clean. Cleaner than I had ever seen it before, like, fresh out of the womb clean. No crooked cupboards, the cement-colored carpet was brighter than ever. I even went over to a part of the floorboard that always creaked when stepped on. Not a single sound was made. Most importantly and gratefully, there was no trace of Jordan anywhere. Even the blood from my hoodie and face had vanished. If it wasn’t for the pictures of me and Nathan on the walls, I would have believed I was in someone else’s living room. I was completely rocked by this new development.
The change was startling. The previously grimy and worn-down space now gleamed as if it had just been constructed. The walls, once marred with cracks and peeling paint, stood pristine and freshly painted. The once tattered curtains were now whole and clean, allowing soft sunlight to filter in without obstruction. The dingy, flickering light bulb had been replaced with a warm, steady glow, casting a comforting light over the room.
I felt the smooth surface of the trilby, my mind reeling with the impossibility of it all. The material was unmistakably real, tangible, and out of place in the context of what I knew. The air smelled different too, lacking the usual musty scent and instead carrying a hint of fresh linen and a faint trace of lavender. It was disorienting, like stepping into a dream where everything was just slightly off from reality.
Discord sat calmly on the arm of the couch, his eyes following my every movement with an expectant look. His small frame was almost lost in the vast improvement of the room, yet his presence felt more substantial than ever. The juxtaposition of the ordinary and the extraordinary left me questioning the very nature of what I was experiencing.
“Ahem!” Discord snapped me out of my fascination, making my head snap to him instantly.
“You…” I whispered, still in awe as I raised a shaking finger. “Did- did you do this?” I said, sweating as my heart raced in suspense.
A full-blown grin was plastered on his face, and he laughed out loud as if he had heard a belly-clenching joke. It was irritating to be laughed at, especially this hard.
“My oh my, I was waiting for the day to see the face of realisation on your face. I knew it would be priceless, but this… This deserves a round of applause,” Discord gasped, trying to control his breathing. Ignoring him taking the piss out of me, I continued the subject.
“You did it, didn’t you though? Somehow, you got rid of every bit of dust from this room, you fixed the creaking in the floor, and hell, you got rid of the body. How?” I asked in wonder, a grin growing on my face, a rare sight for those who know me.
“Magic,” he shrugged, making it a bit anticlimactic and a bit disappointing. What a dead answer.
“Yeah, I figured that much out, dipshit,” I rolled my eyes. “I mean you’re a fucking talking dog with magical powers and have a strange obsession with hats. What classified experiment came out of the government's asshole to produce you?”
“Well, my dear friend. If you may sit down and talk like civil beings, I will answer all the questions you may have, and we can finally talk about why I am here. Sound good?” he suggested. I nodded fairly, not minding a good chat with someone who isn’t Nathan. Not to say Nathan is boring or anything, but with what’s right in front of me, I can’t wait to get started.
Sitting at the other end of the couch, I began the first of many questions running riot in my mind. But, before I asked anything, I pulled out my carton and took one out for myself.
Discord, now sitting attentively on the armrest, watched me with those wise, sentient eyes. His posture was almost human-like, a stark reminder of the bizarre reality I found myself in. The trilby still in my hand felt real, grounding me amidst the surreal events.
“You smoke?” I asked, holding out my carton with one sticking out for him to take. He chuckled.
“Of all the questions you could ask, it wasn’t something about magic, it wasn’t about me being a talking dog, nope, it had to be about my addiction,” he ranted. I just stared back with my arm still extended.
“So is that a yes or no?” I deadpanned, feeling my arm ache. He sighed, and with that sigh, the puppy looked ten times older. His posture slumped, and his eyes looked distant. All of a sudden, this puppy looked older than me.
“Yes, yes I do,” he muttered, leaning over and taking a stick with his muzzle. I was going to continue to my next question when he tapped the couch’s cushion beneath him and suddenly, the end of the ciggie was lit. I stared for a bit, in awe of his abilities and for a second or two, I pondered his abilities.
“So, was that your only question? If so, I need to speak to you about something dire,” he murmured, that distant gaze never leaving the TV in front of him. He watched the footy match with a dead look. You’d think Norwich City was playing Newcastle. I opened my mouth to speak once again but, yet again was interrupted.
“What do you call this sport?” he asked out of nowhere, the question catching me off guard for a moment. I looked back at the TV to see that Liverpool was still twatting Manchester United everywhere.
“Football, or footy for short, why?”
“Oh, it’s practically the same name back where I’m from then. It takes me back to when life was… simple… or fair, in better terms. I remember it like it was yesterday: foals running after the ball, passing and tackling, and when one side scored, it was a joy to see them celebrate,” he said nostalgically, deep in his memories as a smile tugged slightly at his lips. Then, as fast as it came, it quickly turned into a deep frown. I would have asked what was the matter but, I’d end up acting interested in his problems, and I don’t have time to listen to others’ problems. So instead, I just sat back and watched the footy with him, ciggie in hand ready to be lit. There was no need for the lighter though; the magic user did that for me.
The room was filled with the faint haze of smoke, and the familiar yet surreal act of smoking alongside a magical talking puppy made me feel oddly grounded in the bizarre reality I was living. The game on the TV continued, the commentators’ voices a background hum to the silent exchange between Discord and me. His presence, once purely an annoyance, now seemed to carry a weight of its own, blending with the strange comfort of the cleaned and restored living room.
As the match continued, I noticed Discord’s eyes flicker with every goal, his emotions a mix of nostalgia and something deeper, perhaps sorrow. His connection to his past, his homeland, and whatever events had transpired there seemed to hang heavily on him, mirroring the burdens I carried in my own life.
For a moment, the chaos of our world seemed to pause, allowing a brief respite where two unlikely companions could share a moment of calm amidst the storm.
“Mia? Who are you talking to?” a meek young boy’s voice said from behind me. Looking back, I saw Nathan hiding behind a door frame. I hadn’t even heard him stop the shower or walk downstairs. He had a new pair of clothes on and was looking around the room inquisitively. Unlike the room being clean of its mess, Nathan was untouched, his battle wounds still visible, unaffected by Discord’s interference. It made my frown deepen.
“How are you, kiddo? Feel a bit better after the shower?” I asked, changing the subject to his well-being. He rubbed his arm gently.
“A little bit, yeah,” he muttered, not looking into my eyes, more interested in the room he had just walked into. “Why is everything so… clean? And where is the body?”
“Well, my dear child, I believe that would be because of me,” Discord announced himself with a bark, popping up with none other than another hat, but this time it was a cap with a crimson crest of the Liverbird. Damn, it looked good too. Nathan, on the other hand, had eyes only on the talking German shepherd as his eyes slowly widened and his smile slowly expanded, the thought of blood and gore instantly vanishing.
“CHASER!!” Nathan exclaimed cheerfully as he ran up from behind the couch and caught Discord in a huge hug, much to Discord’s dismay. His little paws pushed against Nathan but only to fail miserably. I laughed out loud at the sight; not only that, he called him Chaser, which is one of the dogs from Paw Patrol. All we need now is that police uniform.
Calming down somewhat, I flicked away a tear that was about to spill. “Well, Discord, looks like you’ve made a new friend. How nice,” I mocked, taking his cap and ruffling the top of his head.
“Yeah, best of friends,” he almost growled. Nathan gasped, either forgetting or ignoring the fact that the dog had spoken to him a few seconds ago.
“He can talk?! Where did you find a walking, talking doggy?” he shouted, never letting his tight grasp around Discord go.
“He found me. Now let go of the poor dog,” I chuckled slightly, the sight seeming adorable. Quickly letting go just to run around and sit next to the pup, giggling as he watched him, waiting for him to speak again. Discord, however, looked uncomfortable with the proximity of the wondrous kid. I placed my hand on Nathan’s shoulder, trying to get his attention, but as soon as I touched him, I felt his body tense. Instantly, I hovered my hand off his shoulder. Fuck sake, Mia. You kill someone right in front of his face and you think everything is fine because there is a talking dog. He’s obviously fucking terrified of you, dipshit.
I wanted to say something, anything to reassure him that I would never hurt him, to tell him he could trust me, but there’s nothing you can say to make him feel safer around me. So, I did the only thing I could think of. “So, uhh… I’m going outside for a second,” I said, getting up quickly from the sofa and heading to the door with haste. Looking back though, I saw that Discord was confused and curious about my departure. As for Nathan, he wore a deep frown with his eyes screaming for me not to leave, but the thing was, it was conflicted with fear. I left the room with a talking dog and continued to puff away at my cancer stick.
The night air hit me with a sharp chill, a stark contrast to the warmth inside. I leaned against the railing, the city lights flickering below like tiny stars. Each drag of the cigarette felt heavier, the weight of my actions pressing down on me. How could I ever make things right with Nathan? The fear in his eyes was a knife to my heart, twisting with every glance.
The sound of distant sirens and the occasional shout from the street below was a reminder of the world we lived in, a harsh and unforgiving place.
()()()()()
Half an hour… Half an hour I have been sitting on the stairs leading to the block. It’s fucking freezing, and I’ve only got a bloody hoodie on, smoking like a chimney. 10 minutes away? My ass she’s 10 minutes away. I could have stayed with Nathan for half an hour. I know I said I would give him his space, but truth be told, my nerves are gone. My foot starts tapping when I don’t have Nathan by me. It’s fucking stressing me out. Then again, what doesn’t stress me out these days? I swear, I’m going to get grey hairs when I’m 20. And now I need a piss, great. Might as well check on Nathan while I’m at it. Getting up to relieve myself, I turned to walk up the stairs.
Beep beeeeep!
Welp, there she is, I thought, hearing the distant sound of a car honking wildly. Fitting for the energetic gal like her, always making a scene.
Once she parked up at the block’s pavement, my eyes widened a bit in shock but not fully surprised with what she had just pulled up with. A Rover. A black Rover. Not any black Rover, though. JC’s black Rover. The sleek black paint gleamed under the dim streetlights, reflecting the gritty surroundings like a polished gemstone amidst rubble. The custom rims, darkened windows, and subtle yet powerful roar of the engine as it idled spoke of both luxury and menace. The vehicle was a stark contrast to the decaying block, standing out like a raven in a flock of pigeons. I’ve only heard of the things that JC has done to this beauty. Customised it with big doe. It’s practically worth 180 grand on its own, I can’t imagine how much it costs now. It was beautiful. I think I’m in love.
Walking up to the black beast, I was in awe as the tinted window slowly lowered to reveal Gaby with JC’s favorite shades on. Gaby had a smug smile as she hung her arm out the window.
“So, babes, how do you like my ride? Reckon I could pull some birds with this bad boy?” She patted the steering wheel like a good boy.
“You do know JC is going to be pissed when he finds out that you took his pride and joy,” I said, leaning on the car door to meet face to face with an old friend. Her grin grew bigger.
“He knows. It’s too bad that his TT tires have been popped. Wasn’t looking forward to getting chased by that speed demon,” she giggled. As much as I wanted to be surprised by what she did, I knew her all too well. That’s something Gaby would do. Hell, I’ve seen her do that before. I never laughed so hard in my life as when the plods realized their tires were gone. The youngers they caught lacking got off, never to be seen, as the feds tried to chase them with four popped tires. The fucking pigs were baffled. I chuckled at the memory.
“God, it’s good to have you back,” I said, wrapping one arm around her in a hug. In reply, she instantly draped her arms around my back, deepening the hug.
“It’s good to be back with you. I can’t remember the last time I’ve smiled like this,” she said, relief and joy evident in her tone. Damn, I guess Kenny and that prick had Gaby and the rest around their finger more than I thought. Fucking JC had Kenny around his finger more like it, and Gaby and the rest were just along for the ride.
Gaby’s presence brought a warmth that cut through the cold. Her familiar scent, a mix of leather and a hint of vanilla, was comforting. The way she effortlessly took control of any situation, her confidence, and her unyielding spirit were things I had always admired about her. Even now, stealing JC’s prized Rover, she did it with a flair that was uniquely hers.
After a few more seconds of Gaby’s trademark tight hugs, I gently pulled away and leaned my arms on the window sill of the door. Suddenly, her grin faltered and her expression turned to one of concern as she reached her hand out for my cheek. Immediately aware of the state my face was in, I quickly backed away from the door but it was too late, she had seen something.
Quickly, she opened the door with scary speed and exited the car, startling me. I only took one step back before she was upon me and just like that, my hood was gone and my face was revealed by the lamp post above us.
Gaby gasped and stared at my bruised and broken face. I felt my eyes tear up in shame. I felt so weak, so exposed. Everything hit me at once. All the pain, all the stress, all the tireless nights hit me hard as Gaby looked at me, judging the former shell of myself. And just like that, tears started spilling and I started to have a runny nose.
“What- what happened?” she whispered, horrified at my answer.
“It’s- it’s just not my day today,” I sobbed, trying to crack a convincing joke but only to fail miserably as I broke down right there and then. My hand went straight to my face as I tried to hold back the tears. As soon as I did, a strong grip pulled me into a warm embrace as our bodies met. I cried and cried and cried into her shoulder like a baby, all while Gaby was stroking my hair soothingly like a mother would do to her baby to stop it from crying. While my emotions were high, I tried desperately to let everything off my chest. All the pain and suffering, I had to offload it onto her. I can’t do this alone anymore. But, when I tried to talk, I kept sobbing. Slowly, she would rock me from side to side as she whispered comforting things into my ear.
“Shh, shh, shhhh, it’s okay. Everything is going to be okay. You know why? Because you are the strongest gal I know. And now that I’m here, I won’t let anybody hurt you again. Nobody. You know why? Because you’re so precious to me that it hurts me to see you cry like this,” she said, kissing the side of my head affectionately.
“It’s just s-so hard,” I babbled incoherently, grabbing the back of her jacket as I tried to control my speech. “It’s hard to take care of Nathan… I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t stressed about making enough doe to feed us for a week. I can’t remember a time where I felt safe in this shithole. I tried for so long to look after Nathan but, at the end of the day, who was there to look after me?!” I began to shout, anger welling up within me as I dug my nails into Gaby’s jacket. “Where were you when I needed you, damn it! You’re my best friend! Why didn’t you come with me? For five fucking years I was alone with Nathan! Why didn’t you come with us?” I yelled into Gaby’s shoulder. I felt so exhausted and vulnerable as I was held tightly, absorbing her warmth as our bodies pressed together. Then, sniffling was heard which was not my own.
“Sorry…” Gaby muttered into my shoulder.
“Huh?”
“I said I’m sorry, okay. I’m sorry I let you go alone. I guess I was scared to leave the gang, scared to leave the people that protected me from this cold world. My parents abandoned me, Mia, I didn’t want to do the same,” she started to sob as I just listened. “When you left I was so conflicted, I didn’t know what to do when you told me you were leaving. It was tearing me up inside. At the end of the day though, I stayed and I waited for you to come back. Then, Jaden died and Kenny took over and everything started falling apart. Kenny was due his debts for JC. Drugs, money, even opps were wanted dead. Kenny’s head is gone and he has taken us all down with him. I regret staying, I wish I just went with you.” She wept, and now I had to console her. Gently, I pushed away from the hug and saw tears running down her soft skin. I put both hands on each cheek and with my thumbs, I started rubbing the tears from her eyes with a smile. Apparently, that’s what was needed as she started to calm down as she looked back at me. Her eyes as bright as the summer sky. I always loved looking into her eyes.
“You’re staring again,” she smirked as she rubbed the rest of the tears away. I started to stutter but ended up rubbing the back of my head with a sheepish smile. “Come on, let’s get inside. It’s fucking freezing.”
“Right, come’ed den.”
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
“Fuck off, Pogba, you cheeky cunt! I’ll have you and Ronaldo on the same night, pussies!” Nathan shouted as he stood up from the couch, screaming at the players on the TV. The game was getting heated, tensions high with every pass and tackle. Even Discord wasn’t happy with the challenge on Naby Keita. The both of them cheered as a red card was shown, vindication for the foul.
That was when Gaby and I walked in, and that’s when Gaby saw the all-grown-up Nathan. Gaby wore a massive smile, her eyes lighting up with recognition and affection. Nathan just looked at me, curiosity etched on his young face.
“Who’s this?” he asked, and I smiled at the question. I wrapped my arm around Gaby’s shoulders, feeling a warmth I hadn’t felt in a long time.
“This is Gaby, an old friend of mine and one of your babysitters from when you were younger. She’s going to stay with us for a while,” I said, and to my joy, Nathan cheerfully smiled. Discord, on the other hand, looked pretty annoyed, his fur bristling slightly.
“Hey Mia, you have a dog?” Gaby asked, pointing at Discord who wore a straw hat perched jauntily on his head.
“For the record, Mia does not own me and my name is Discord,” Discord said plainly, clearly unimpressed with Gaby. His tone was laced with irritation, and his tail flicked in mild annoyance.
Gaby’s reaction was exactly what I imagined—full-blown shock.
“Mia… Mia…” she stammered, her voice trembling.
“Yes…” I replied, feigning innocence.
“The dog just talked…” she said in horror. “That fucking dog just bloody spoke to me… And you’re looking at me as if this is normal… The dog is talking.” She yelled, shaking all the while as if she couldn’t comprehend what was happening. Truth be told, I was just having a bit of fun.
“No, really?” I said in mock shock, sarcasm dripping from my words. “That’s just Discord.”
“Mia, look at me, look into my eyes,” she said with all seriousness, and I did, looking into her ice-blue eyes. “The dog, that dog there…” she pointed at Discord sitting next to Nathan. “…just spoke to me… It didn’t bark, it didn’t growl, it spoke to me in our language.” She said, and I just continued to stare into her eyes.
“Yep, he did,” I said simply with a smile, which seemed to irritate Gaby as her eye twitched.
“Okay, listen to me closely… The fucking dog. Spoke to me. It said its name is Discord. It also said you don’t own the fucking mutt. Why can’t you see why this is fucked up? It’s a talking dog!” Ooo shit, angry blue eyes, but still, they were her blue eyes, so still gorgeous. “Are you even listening to me, Mia?” she deadpanned.
“Nope.”
“Ugh, I’m over it. I’m off to sleep,” she sighed. “Nathan, I’ll see you tomorrow, Kidda. We’ll hang out if you want?” Gaby said, walking past and ruffling his hair, making him giggle. But when she walked past Discord, they just stared at each other awkwardly. I forgot to mention, Gaby is a cat person; that’s all that needs to be said.
“Good night to you too then,” she murmured, not sure what else to say.
“Yeah, goodnight,” Discord said back. Before she stepped out of the room, she quickly turned her head as if she just remembered something.
“I almost forgot to tell you, I’ve got something for you tomorrow. It will make our lives a million times easier,” she smiled, and before I could reply, she walked up the stairs. I could briefly hear her muttering something about a ‘fucking mutt,’ and by the flicker of Discord’s ear, I guessed he heard it too. But judging by his face, he didn’t give a fuck. Looking back at Nathan, I could see he was tired as he rubbed his eyes. I smiled as I walked over and sat next to him.
“I think it’s your bedtime. Come on, up you go,” I said, patting his back as he gave no effort to resist sleep, following Gaby up the stairs. Then there were two.
The living room, now a mixture of laughter and lingering tension, felt strangely peaceful. The game on the TV had ended, leaving a quiet hum in the background. Discord, still perched with his straw hat, glanced at me with a mixture of curiosity and something else—perhaps a hint of understanding.
Me and Discord stayed up for a while, watching Pirates of the Caribbean. We were at the part where Jack Sparrow was robbing the bank and hilariously getting caught, but it didn’t even get a snicker from Discord. He looked like he was in his own world, his eyes glazed over as if he was lost in deep thought.
“What you thinking about, Discord? It’s kinda pissing me off that you’re not watching this bit; it’s the funniest bit.” Like a link being severed, Discord snapped out of his trance.
“Oh, sorry, I was just thinking about my predicament and the options I have,” he explained, his frown never leaving his face.
“What do you mean?” I asked, my attention caught.
“Your friend has made things more complicated if you agree to aid me.”
“How so?” I asked. He sighed, the weight of his thoughts evident.
“To answer that, I need to tell you my reasoning for being here. It’ll make more sense.” He said, looking at me for confirmation to continue. I nodded, and he went back into his trance.
“Once there was a land called Equestria that was ruled by two sisters. Princess Celestia, the embodiment of the sun, and Princess Luna, the embodiment of the moon. Together they led their ponies to peace and harmony. The earth, the peg-”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa there… Ponies? Like, baby horses ponies? What wild west bullshit is that?” I asked, not grasping the concept of talking ponies. Then again, I’m talking to a fucking dog… Yeah, I think I get what Gaby was trying to say.
“Please don’t interrupt, and yeah, they are magical walking, talking ponies.”
“Oh, now they’re magical. Fuck me, what are you going to say next? Boris Johnson does brush his hair?” I chuckled, knowing full well the tramp doesn’t brush his hair.
“You finished?” Discord just stared back, clearly annoyed.
“Sorry, please continue,” I gestured with my hand.
“As I was saying, earth ponies, pegasi, and unicorns united to become a great nation.”
‘Why does this sound like an American speaking about their country?’
“For centuries, the ponies had their fair share of challenges. The likes of Nightmare Moon, King Sombra, Queen Chrysalis, Lord Tirek, and even myself have been enemies of the ponies.”
‘Nightmare Moon? King Sombra? Queen… Uhh… Whatever she was called? Sounding like Dark Souls bosses.’
“Then, the day came where everything started to fall apart. Where the earth ponies rebelled against the high-class nobles and their princess. Even the legendary elements of honesty and laughter fought. The earth ponies struggled to make money to provide for their families, while unicorns and Pegasus ponies slowly pictured themselves as more superior to the earth ponies, causing earth ponies to be treated like dirt, hence being subjected to racial slurs. Then it really kicked off when earth ponies were forced to work longer hours for less value. It shattered the hearts and angered the minds of the earth ponies. Many ponies played a role in fostering this hate. In addition to the royalty, nobles, and military parties who planned and implemented policies aimed at persecuting the earth ponies of their rights, many 'ordinary' ponies—civil servants, doctors, lawyers, judges, soldiers, and railroad workers—played a role in this hatred.” Discord wanted to say more, I could see the struggle and how it pained him to relive the memories. I was grateful for the momentary pause; it was a lot to take in at once. A few questions came to mind, but the most frequent one was… why? It bugged me that their own rulers, government, military, and even their own kind would dislike these so-called earth ponies.
“Why? Why not the Pegasus? Why not the unicorns? Why did it have to be the earth ponies?” I asked, my foot tapping anxiously as I waited for his response. It felt like I was a kid listening to a scary story.
“Simple, it’s what they don’t have that makes them insignificant, inferior to the rest only because they don’t have wings nor a horn. Yet again, there have been a few theories around the slowly processing hate,” he said skeptically. “During the war against King Sombra—when times weren’t all sunshine and rainbows—earth ponies weren’t happy with the strategic approach in the final battle that would end it all. The princess commanded the platoons of earth ponies to fight on the frontlines while the unicorns played the role of medics and support. As for the Pegasi, they were the communicators and air support. They all sat back and let the earth ponies die in the mud, which infuriated the highly respected General Steel Shine. It was said that he was down to earth, climbing through the ranks with leadership and loyalty to the Princess, but if there was one thing he was deathly loyal to more than the princesses, it would have to be his comrades in arms. He trained every single earth pony that was drafted and knew all their names, knowing them enough to show them respect as a friend. So, the moment Steel Shine found out that the princess was using his friends to die like pigs, the two clashed and fell out after the battle. That day, Steel Shine lost over 50,000 friends, more than half he had. His fury equaled the extreme heat of the sun, and he vowed his revenge to end the sun monarchy,” he said, pausing once more. I was confused, not to say Steel Shine's anger wasn’t reasonable, but war is war. Death is almost guaranteed. I don’t get what he was expecting. A fucking picnic? Each and every earth pony had a role other than to fight… right? Unless they were drafted for the sole purpose to die. That’s… that’s fucked. Could a ruler be so cruel? Yet again, we’re not much better. Ain’t that right, Hitler? Suddenly, he continued as I was about to ask a question.
“Not even a week after the great battle, he was plotting to turn the earth ponies all around the land against the royalty that wrongly sent them to their deaths. Leaking information to the Daily Equestria News that spread quickly from cities to villages around Equestria. The effect was immediate. The false information provided by the nobles, generals, and even the princess herself sent the earth ponies into a frenzy. Protests turned into riots, crimes increased tremendously from theft to assault on the authorities. It was mayhem, and it was like music to the former General’s ears. Then, the earth ponies came together and formed a rebellious movement called The Earth’s Justice.” He finished strongly, looking back at me to see what my reaction was, and truthfully, I wasn’t surprised. I would be more surprised if the earth ponies didn’t at least protest. Riots, crime, and leaked information have happened before. Nothing I haven’t seen or heard before. Hell, I’ve been in a riot before—absolute chaos, but fun nonetheless. Managed to get my hands on an iPhone.
“So… then what?” I asked.
“Well, not much to say other than the royal guards slowly overcame the gang and the followers were sentenced. Steel Shine, though, was never seen again, and the history of the whole revolution was wiped from the new generation's history books, rewriting the time of the Winter War,” he explained, too vague in his wording. I didn’t like that. Doesn’t he know more than he’s letting on? Possibly, he bypassed that quickly.
“Right… I still don’t understand why this has to involve my mate?” I said suspiciously.
“Listen, I don’t have much time here. I’ve expended most of my magical power in this world, and I’m slowly losing power with every second I stay here. So I’m going to make this quick, and you have until tomorrow to decide your future and the fate of the earth ponies. Understood?” He said seriously, sending shivers down my spine at his odd behaviour. Where was the fun, chaotic puppy all of a sudden?
“What is it then?” I asked nervously, intertwining my fingers together.
“Will you aid me in erasing Celestia, the Princess of the Sun, and Luna, the Princess of the Moon, off the face of Equestria?”
/-/-/-/----\
I lay between the mattresses that both Gaby and Nathan slept on, their soft snores the only thing breaking the silence of the room. But it wasn’t the noise that kept me awake. It was that question… that fucking question, swirling around in my head like a relentless tornado. It had obliterated any chance of sleep tonight. Worse, Discord hadn’t elaborated on anything. He hadn’t answered any of my questions—vital questions I needed to know before making such a monumental decision. He said he’d answer everything once we came to an agreement. That was killing me more than anything.
The ceiling above, with its peeling white paint, seemed to mirror the fragmentation of my thoughts. Each crack and flake represented a doubt or a fear. The uncertainty gnawed at me, making the darkness of the room feel oppressive, almost suffocating. How was I supposed to make a decision that could change everything? Could I trust Discord, a creature who appeared out of nowhere, to lead us to a better life? Or was this another trap, another illusion in a world already filled with too many broken promises?
“What do I do? My head is telling me to tell Discord to fuck off, but this is a chance to leave and start a new life, our second chance at life. But at what price? Helping a dog take down the ruler of pony kind… what would you do, big sister? God knows I need you right now,” I whispered, staring up at the peeling white ceiling, feeling more alone than ever. The memories of my sister flooded back. Her laughter, her strength. She always knew what to do. If she were here, she’d know how to handle this mess. But she wasn’t, and I had to figure this out on my own.
“What are you whispering about, Mia?” A soft voice said from beside me. I turned to see Gaby on her side, staring back at me. Even in the dark, her blue eyes shone, piercing through the gloom. Those blue eyes—if I stared at them long enough, I might just find the peace I was desperately seeking.
“Well, me and Discord had a little discussion before you went up to bed and… He offered me something that could make our lives easier, a second chance, but in return, I had to do a favor for him, one that could end really badly. What do I do?” I asked pleadingly. She looked at me for a few seconds, then finally spoke.
“Well, first things first, what the hell are you doing on the floor?” she asked, raising a brow. Why was that the first thing she said?
“Because you took my mattress?” I replied, sounding more like a question. She dramatically sighed, scooting over just a bit.
“Come on, hop in,” she said, smiling oddly, holding the quilt up for me and at the same time, exposing her slim, fit body clad only in black knickers and a bra. I really hoped she couldn’t see my burning face or feel the heat emanating from my cheeks. Bloody hell, girl. Revealing yourself like that? You’re practically asking to get fingered everywhere. Jesus.
Hesitating for a moment and just gaping, I finally moved towards the inviting sight. As soon as I got within the sheets, my body absorbed the warmth within, Gaby’s body heat. My body shivered in relief from the feeling as my muscles went stiff. I was surprised my cheeks weren’t glowing.
“Why don’t you take your PJs off? It’ll be cozier,” she whispered in my ear, and my heart skipped a beat.
“N-no thanks, I-I’m good with my pajamas on,” I stuttered, my mind racing.
“Come on, we’re both grown-up gals. You know I won’t do anything I’ll regret,” she smirked, moving a strand of my hair back behind my ear. I frowned.
“Nothing you’ll regret? You just stole a Range Rover worth more than 100k, and you think JC isn’t going to try and find us? He’s going to slit our throats in our sleep,” I whispered harshly.
“But I gave us an opportunity to be filthy rich. We can fly away. If we manage to sell the Rover, you, me, and Nathan can go wherever we want, whenever you want. Isn’t that what you wanted? To get away from England? Just say the word, and I’ll take you to Canada, I’ll take you to Spain, Portugal, Italy, New Zealand—we have the whole world to explore,” she said suggestively. The idea of going places I’d never even dreamed of made me grin in giddiness. I’ve always been on the move, but abroad? That was something else entirely.
But as I lay there, listening to the soft snores of Nathan, my thoughts wandered back to Discord’s proposition. Could I really trust him? Could I take the risk for a chance at a better life? The memories of my sister haunted me. She always knew how to handle things, how to make the tough decisions. What would she do in my place? Would she take the risk or play it safe?
The room felt colder, despite Gaby’s warmth next to me. The weight of the decision bore down on me, making it hard to breathe. I could hear the faint hum of the city outside, the distant sounds of cars and sirens, a reminder of the world I was so desperate to escape.
The ceiling above seemed to close in, the darkness pressing down on me. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the noise, the confusion, the fear. But it was no use. The question lingered, a shadow that refused to be ignored. What was I willing to do for a second chance? What price was I willing to pay?
As I lay there, the weight of the decision growing heavier, I felt Gaby’s hand gently touch my arm. Her touch was warm, grounding, a small anchor in the storm of my thoughts. “Mia, whatever you decide, we’ll face it together. You’re not alone,” she whispered softly.
Her words brought a small measure of comfort, but they didn’t solve the problem. The responsibility still rested on my shoulders. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, to find some clarity in the chaos.
In the end, I knew one thing for sure. I had to protect Nathan, no matter what. His safety, his future, was all that mattered. I would make the hard choices, take the risks, if it meant giving him a chance at a better life. Even if it meant aligning with a mysterious, magical dog.
Closing my eyes, I allowed myself to drift, hoping that sleep would bring some semblance of peace. But the unease lingered, a reminder that tomorrow would bring new challenges, new decisions. For now, I held onto the warmth of Gaby beside me, the promise of her support, and the faint hope that maybe, just maybe, we could find a way out of this mess.
“I think I’ve made my mind up,” I said in a hushed tone, feeling my eyes finally droop. Discord isn’t going to be happy. Little did we know that a certain puppy was listening in, and he certainly wasn’t happy.
~End Of Chapter~
Chapter 3 - Out-of-Place.
“When something goes wrong in your life, just yell ‘Plot Twist’ and move on.”
The first slivers of dawn crept through the worn curtains, casting weak, diluted light across the room. I shot up in bed, my heart hammering like a drum in my chest, my skin slick with cold sweat. "Fuck, Mia, calm the hell down," I muttered to myself, trying to steady the rapid, shallow breaths that felt like knives in my lungs. It was just a nightmare, all conjured up in my fucked-up head—no monsters here, just the usual shadows. Hadn’t had that nightmare in ages, what brought it back?
I glanced around, half-expecting the remnants of my dream to materialise in the dim corners of our cramped room. Beside me, Nathan was still a curled-up bundle of innocence under his thin blanket, blissfully unaware of the turmoil beside him. Gaby, ever the heavy sleeper, was completely hidden under her covers, her arm thrown over her eyes to shield from the morning light that apparently only I was cursed to wake to. I could feel the warm skin of Gaby, reminding me of the little clothing she was wearing. The room felt unnaturally cold, but the chill was nothing compared to the ice that seemed to freeze my spine, remnants of terror clinging stubbornly to my consciousness.
As I lay there, a single tear escaped, tracing a hot path down my cheek, and I hastily wiped it away. "Fuck this," I thought bitterly. It was just another day in Halewood, another relentless cycle of scraping by, another day to endure whatever fresh hell awaited outside these crumbling walls. The mere thought was exhausting.
I drew in a deep breath, attempting to steady the lingering tremors from my nightmare. The day ahead loomed over me with grim certainty—too little to eat, too much to worry about, and no respite from the relentless grind of poverty and despair that clung to us like a second skin. "It’s just another day," I told myself, trying to inject a semblance of courage into my weary bones.
"Another day of pretending each meal isn’t a desperate calculation, of forcing smiles for Nathan so he doesn’t see how close I am to breaking, of holding back the darkness for one more day." The bitterness in my thoughts was palpable, each word a reflection of the weariness that soaked through my spirit. The routine was a relentless echo, each day a grim repetition of the last, each night a battle against the creeping dread that nothing would ever change.
The reality of another day in Halewood pressed down on me like a suffocating blanket of hopelessness. I felt its weight threatening to crush the fragile veneer of strength I'd managed to cobble together. "But you’ve got to push through, Mia. You have to be the rock for Nathan and Gaby," I reminded myself sternly, pushing the despair back into the depths where it simmered constantly.
I forced myself to sit up, my body heavy with fatigue, the dried trace of that solitary tear on my face a salty reminder of the vulnerability I despised. Today wouldn't be good—I knew that much. But like every other cursed day in this forsaken place, it had to be faced.
Wiping the sweat from my brow, I kicked off the tangled blankets that were too thin to be useful if it weren't for the sweat making them cling unpleasantly to my legs. "Get your shit together," I scolded myself, voice low and harsh. The morning air bit at my damp skin, sending a shiver down my back that had nothing to do with fear this time. I nudged Nathan gently, needing the normalcy of his warmth to anchor me back to reality.
“Come on, kiddo. Time to get up,” I coaxed, my voice still carrying traces of the raw edge from my midnight terrors.
Nathan mumbled something incoherent, a plea for just a few more minutes of sleep—his daily ritual. I couldn’t blame him; part of me wanted nothing more than to curl up and forget the images that had plagued my sleep.
“Yeah, and I’ll give you five more kicks up the arse if you don’t move it. We’ve got shit to do,” I half-joked, the usual morning threats spilling out a bit more aggressively today.
Gaby finally stirred, her voice thick and groggy. “What time is it?” she asked, barely audible beneath the layers of her makeshift bedding.
Fumbling for my phone, I squinted at the bright screen in the dimly lit room—no signal, as usual. I groaned, looking at the time. Too damn early for my bloody liking. What was I thinking trying to get Nathan up at this time. “Ehh, 4:30.” I murmured, laying my head back down on the yellow-stained pillow.
Gaby’s weak chuckle was a comforting sound, somehow making the room feel a bit less cold. “You always know when to wake up, don’t you, Mia.”
“It’s a gift,” I replied dryly, feeling every bit of the night’s unrest in my bones aching from my restless days. My eyelids were like lead curtains, and my brain buzzed with a dull static as if it had short-circuited, plunging my thoughts into obsidian depths. I lay enveloped in the velvet embrace of darkness, contemplating the infinite potential of eternal repose. Sleep had eluded me—hardly a revelation, as stress and anxiety had become voracious parasites, feasting on my peace, turning every thought as sinister as the night itself. My nights were punctuated by abrupt awakenings, either to the demands of my restless bladder or the icy fingers of nightmares. A full night's sleep, that elusive eight-hour sanctuary, remained a rare luxury. Yet, I resigned myself to cope, determined to ensure at least Nathan found solace in slumber.
Abruptly, the mattress shifted slightly under Gaby's subtle movements, compelling me to turn towards her. By the time I realised her intentions, it was already too late—I was ensnared. With a deliberate innocence, Gaby transformed me into her human pillow, her head nestling snugly against my chest, her arm securing itself around my waist, her leg thrown over mine in her signature entwining embrace. She hummed a soothing melody, a lullaby that momentarily dissolved my anxieties, coaxing my eyes to close with a contented exhale.
“You okay, Mia?” Gaby's voice, husky with the remnants of sleep, murmured close, her body pressing nearer in its bare warmth.
“I’m okay,” I whispered back, the fragrance of her hair—a comforting blend of vanilla and lavender—infused the cool, shadow-draped room, weaving an aura of intimate tranquility. Instinctively, my arm encircled her, drawing her closer into a tender embrace. My fingers meandered through her silky strands, the simple act of caressing Gaby anchoring me to a semblance of normalcy, rekindling cherished memories.
“Are you sure?” she probed again, prompting my hands to pause in their soothing journey. I hesitated, contemplating the merits of honesty over the ease of pretense. Opting for silence, I resumed my gentle strokes. In the quiet that followed, Gaby's voice broke through once more. “Your hand is shaking… did you have a nightmare?” Her perceptiveness never failed to astound me. I sighed audibly, my response laced with weary irritation. “Was it about your dad?”
“Shut up and sleep,” I muttered, my tone sharper than intended. Gaby remained silent, but her next move spoke volumes; she snuggled closer, her lips brushing a tender kiss under my chin, the warmth flushing my cheeks. “Damn it, Gaby.”
Her soft chuckle filled the dark as I finally succumbed to sleep’s elusive embrace.
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The bathroom was a cramped space, its tiles cracked like old bones, and the mirror blotched with spots that spoke of better times long past. I hurriedly relieved myself, the flush of the toilet echoing sharply in the quiet of the early morning. Then, as I splashed cold water on my face, I caught a glimpse of the woman staring back at me in the mirror. Sometimes, she seemed like a stranger—her eyes too weary, too sharp, reflecting a life harder than her years should have witnessed. She was a thief, a liar and now—a murderer, the worst kind of person, absolute scum.
Just then, Nathan bounded into the bathroom, his usual burst of morning energy cutting through the room's dreariness. He flashed a toothpaste-advertisement-worthy smile, miraculously untouched by the grim realities that enveloped our daily lives. It warmed me a little, seeing him so cheerful amid our struggles. It was hard to believe after what happened, had he already forgotten?
“Brush your teeth, Nate. Don’t want those falling out before you even get your grown-up ones,” I instructed, handing him his toothbrush, clinging to this small piece of routine in our anything-but-normal life.
He complied earnestly, a young warrior in the daily fight against decay—of teeth, of environment, of spirit. His bright eyes shone like a beacon, pulling me back from the edge of the darker thoughts that too often threatened to swallow me whole.
Gaby was the last to drag herself to the bathroom, the fatigue evident in her sluggish steps. She stumbled in, shamelessly clad in just her black bra and knickers, the dim light casting shadows over her tired form. As she flicked the useless light switch in a habitual, futile gesture, I couldn't help but blush and quickly turned away to busy myself with brushing my teeth, giving her some semblance of privacy in our tiny, shared space.
"Lights aren’t working," she mumbled groggily, a statement of the obvious that nonetheless hung in the air, heavy and unwelcome. Yeah, no shit, there’s no bulb in the socket.
I grabbed my phone again, its screen a stark beacon in the gloomy room. “That’s weird. My phone’s got no signal, no wifi either. Must be a power cut,” I deduced, the realisation tasting bitter. No power meant more than just no lights; it signified no heat, no communication, and a deeper cut into our already precarious existence. Damn, could have done with a cup of coffee too.
Nathan, ever the optimist, tried to turn on the TV, his small fingers pressing the power button with a hopeful pressure. When nothing happened, his face fell, the first shadows of the day’s troubles darkening his features. “Mia, the TV’s broken.” Great, no morning East Enders? Bummer.
“Great. Just what we need. A fucking power-out,” I sighed, the frustration simmering in my chest like a storm about to break. These power-outs are common, so I was really surprised but, morning power-outs just sucks dick.
Gaby, trying to muster more energy than the morning had afforded her, splashed water on her face. “Maybe it’s just temporary. They’ll fix it soon,” she offered, hope a fragile thread in her weary voice.
I couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss—a knot tightening in my gut, my chest constricting with each silent moment. The city's usual cacophony was conspicuously absent this morning; no distant hum of traffic or murmurs of life drifting up from the streets below. It was unsettlingly quiet, as if the world outside had paused, holding its breath. I tried to dismiss the creeping unease, focusing instead on the tasks at hand.
"Alright, let's get dressed and see if anyone else is having the same problem. Maybe the whole block's out," I suggested, trying to inject a bit of hope into my voice as I pulled on my well-worn jeans and a faded hoodie. The soft, familiar fabric offered a small sense of security, a thin shield against the mounting uncertainties. I wish I had something better to wear, its bloody cold.
Nathan was already shimmying into his clothes, his bright red Liverpool shirt standing out boldly against the drab backdrop of our apartment. It was a splash of colour that brought a brief, much-needed smile to my face. He grappled with his shoelaces, his small fingers fumbling in frustration. Kneeling beside him, I took over, tying each lace carefully—each loop and knot reinforcing the bond we shared, a small daily ritual that grounded us.
"There you go, champ. Ready to take on the world?" I asked, managing to force a smile though my heart wasn't in it. Each word felt heavy, like I was pushing them through a thick fog of worry.
His response was brimming with the unbridled enthusiasm only a child could muster. "Yeah! Can we play football later, Mia?" His eyes sparkled with excitement, untouched by the shadows that seemed to loom just beyond our doorstep.
"We'll see, Nate. Let's sort out this power situation first," I replied, my smile forced and brittle as if it might shatter at any moment. My mind whirled with potential scenarios, the need for contingency plans pressing heavily on me. Every day presented a new set of challenges, and it seemed today would be no exception. I braced myself, ready to face whatever this quiet, unsettling day had in store.
When I pulled open the door to the balcony, the change was immediate and overwhelming. Bright sunlight flooded in, making me squint as my eyes adjusted. The chirping of birds filled the air, a stark contrast to our usual mornings filled with the distant hum of traffic and the occasional shout from the street below. As I stepped out, the cool morning breeze hit my face, carrying the fresh scent of grass and wildflowers. It was like stepping into a different world.
What the fuck…
Nathan was the first to dart out, his boundless energy pushing back against the dinginess of our surroundings. “Mia, look! Look!” he shouted, his voice brimming with excitement. He ran to the edge of the balcony, gripping the railing and leaning over to get a better view. His eyes were wide with wonder as he took in the vast, open field that stretched out before us. Flowers of every colour dotted the landscape, swaying gently in the breeze, and trees lined the perimeter, their leaves rustling softly.
Gaby stumbled out after me, rubbing her eyes and letting out a groggy groan. “What the hell is going on?” she mumbled, still half-asleep. Her hair was a tangled mess, and she looked like she had barely slept, which was probably true. The sight before her made her stop dead in her tracks, her eyes widening as she took in the scene. “No fucking way…”
I clenched my fists, my mind racing. This wasn’t Halewood. This wasn’t anywhere near Halewood. I turned back to the room, scanning every corner for a sign of him. “Discord!” I shouted, my voice echoing in the stillness. “Get your furry ass out here!” But there was no response, no sign of that damn dog anywhere. My teeth ground together as frustration bubbled up inside me. What the hell was he up to?
Nathan tugged on my sleeve, his face lit up with excitement. “Mia, can we go play? Please? It’s so pretty out there!” His innocence was almost painful in contrast to the chaos swirling in my mind. He didn’t understand the danger, the uncertainty of our situation. I’ve learned that all nice things always end badly.
I took a deep breath, trying to keep my anger in check. “We’ll see, Nate. Let’s figure out what the hell we are gonna do.” I glanced over at Gaby, who was still staring out at the field in stunned silence.
“This... this is impossible. We were in the middle of a town last night. How the hell are we out here now?” Her voice was thick with disbelief, a tremor running through it.
I turned back to Nathan, his eyes still wide with wonder. “Nate, stay close, okay? We don’t know what’s out there.” He nodded, but his gaze kept drifting back to the flowers and the trees. He really wants to go outside, I can tell.
As we stood there, a sense of surreal calm settled over the area. The vibrant colours, the gentle breeze, the chirping birds – it was a stark contrast to the gritty, chaotic life we had known. But this peace felt fragile, like it could shatter at any moment. I couldn’t let myself get comfortable. Not here, not now. That would only be a mistake I couldn’t risk.
The weight of our situation pressed down on me, each breath feeling heavier than the last. I needed to keep it together, for Nathan, for Gaby, for myself. But the questions kept piling up. Why us? Why here? And most importantly, how the hell were we going to get back?
Gaby finally turned to face me, her eyes reflecting the same worry I felt. “What do we do now, Mia?”
I shook my head, my thoughts a chaotic swirl. "Let's head back inside," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. As we stepped back into the apartment, the change in atmosphere was immediate. The air was cooler, and the faint smell of damp carpet mixed with the lingering scent of cigarettes.
Nathan ran ahead of us, his small feet padding softly on the worn carpet. He rushed to the window, his hands pressed against the glass as he stared out at the vibrant field. "It's so pretty, Mia," he said, his voice filled with awe. I could see his breath fogging up the glass as he leaned in closer.
I closed the door behind us, the familiar creak of the hinges grounding me for a moment. Gaby brushed past me, heading upstairs with a tired sigh. "I'm gonna get changed. Can't be walking around in my underwear all day," she muttered, disappearing into the hallway.
I watched her go, making a mental note to remind her to stop prancing around in just her knickers and bra when Nathan was around. He was getting older, and it was about time we set some boundaries.
As I stood there, my mind drifted back to the current situation. What the hell did this all mean? Had Discord decided to take us – me, Nathan, Gaby, and the whole bloody block – to his home world despite my decision? That bastard was gonna get it if I got my hands on that mutt. He'd made it clear there was a choice to be made, and yet here we were, uprooted from everything we knew and dumped into this strange, vibrant field.
I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms as I tried to calm the rising tide of anger. This wasn’t just about me. Nathan was involved now, and Gaby too. They were counting on me to keep them safe, to figure this mess out. I’m good at that, that’s the least I could do at this point. First thing we should probably do is see if anyone else is here, if so, we’d have a better chance of survival. The next thing would probably be to get the building's power back up and running, if not, it’ll be wood and fire to keep us warm the next night. After that, try and find civilisation and maybe, we’d get help, if not, I’d have to work my magic once again. Let's hope it doesn’t come to that.
"Look, Mia! There's a butterfly!" Nathan's excited voice broke through my thoughts. I turned to see him practically pressing his nose against the window, his eyes wide with fascination as he watched a bright orange butterfly flit by.
I walked over, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Yeah, it's beautiful, isn't it?" I forced a smile, trying to match his enthusiasm. But inside, I was seething. If Discord thought he could mess with our lives like this, he had another thing coming.
As Nathan continued to watch the butterfly, I took a deep breath, trying to think clearly. First things first, we needed to figure out our immediate situation. The power was out, my phone had no signal, and we were in a completely unfamiliar place. We had to make a plan, and fast.
"Okay," I muttered to myself, trying to organise look p my thoughts. "We'll start with the basics. See if anyone else is here, and figure out what we have to work with."
Gaby reappeared, now dressed in a pair of jeans and a hoodie. "So, what's the plan?" she asked, tying her hair back into a messy bun.
"We're gonna check the other apartments, see if anyone else is around. Then we need to figure out what supplies we have and try to find out more about where the hell we are," I said, my voice firm. "Nathan, stay close to us, alright?"
Nathan, unable to contain his excitement any longer, turned to me with wide, pleading eyes. "Mia, can we go outside and play? Please? The field looks so fun!"
I sighed, rubbing my temples as I tried to think clearly. "Nate, I don't think that's a good idea. We don't know what's out there." I had to protect him, always. The world was dangerous enough without this new mystery added to the mix.
"But Mia, please! It's so nice outside! I promise I'll be careful," he whined, his voice carrying that familiar tone that usually wore me down. He tugged at my sleeve, his eyes filled with innocent hope.
I felt a pang in my chest. Nathan deserved to be a kid, to run and play and be carefree. But how could I let him when I didn't even know if this place was safe? My mind raced with images of potential dangers lurking in the tall grass, just waiting to pounce. "Nathan, I said no," I replied sternly, my voice firmer than I intended. "You need to stay close to me until we figure out what's going on."
Gaby, who had been listening, stepped forward, a soft smile on her face. "Mia, let him have some fun. I'll take him down to play. I'll watch over him, I promise."
I shot her a look, my frustration bubbling up. "Gaby, we don't know if it's safe out there. Anything could happen." My voice was sharp, edged with the fear I tried to hide. She didn’t understand the weight of responsibility I carried every single day, the constant fear of losing the only family I had left.
She crossed her arms and gave me a determined look. "And he can't stay cooped up in here forever. Look at him, Mia. He needs this. I'll be right there with him the whole time. You know I can handle it."
I hesitated, glancing between Gaby and Nathan. Nathan's eyes were still wide with hope, and I could see how badly he wanted to go outside. My protective instincts were screaming at me to keep him close, but Gaby's words were starting to make sense. Maybe he did need this. Maybe they both did. And maybe I was just being paranoid, letting my fears control me.
"I don't know, Gaby," I muttered, feeling the weight of the decision pressing down on me. The thought of Nathan out there, beyond my reach, made my stomach churn. But keeping him locked away wasn't right either. He needed to live, not just survive.
"Mia, please. Just for a little while. You could use a break too," Gaby insisted, her voice gentle but firm. She placed a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. "You've been through hell and back. Let me help you. Trust me."
I looked at Nathan, his face full of anticipation, and then back at Gaby. Finally, with a heavy sigh, I relented. "Alright, fine. But you stay close to him, and don't go too far."
Nathan's face lit up with pure joy, and he let out a cheer, grabbing his fly-away ball and bolting for the door. "Thank you, Mia! Thank you!" he shouted as he ran out, the sound of his footsteps echoing down the hallway. His laughter filled the space, a sound I hadn't heard in far too long.
I moved to follow him, my instincts still screaming to keep him in sight, but Gaby placed a hand on my shoulder, stopping me. "Mia, take a break. You've been running yourself ragged. I’ve got this," she said softly, her eyes filled with understanding.
"But...," I started, my voice trailing off as I saw the resolve in her eyes. How could she be so calm? Didn't she understand the risks?
"I'll keep him safe, I promise," she said firmly, giving my shoulder another reassuring squeeze before turning and heading out after Nathan, closing the door behind her.
I stood there, feeling more stressed out than ever. My mind was a whirl of worry and what-ifs. What if something happened? What if Gaby couldn't handle it? What if...?
I shook my head, trying to push the thoughts away. I had to trust Gaby. She was right; I needed a break. But as I sank down onto the couch, the weight of the uncertainty pressed down on me, making it hard to breathe. My heart raced, each beat a reminder of the dangers lurking in the unknown.
I glanced around the empty apartment, the silence almost deafening. For the first time in a long time, I was alone, truly alone with my thoughts. And that was a terrifying thing. My mind kept drifting back to the field, to Nathan and Gaby out there alone. I tried to imagine them safe, playing in the grass, but my mind kept conjuring images of danger, of harm coming to them.
"Damn it, Discord," I muttered under my breath, my hands clenched into fists. "What have you done?" That damn dog had promised a choice, a chance to change things, but this? This was beyond anything I could have imagined. And now I was left to pick up the pieces, to figure out how to keep us all safe in this new, unpredictable world.
I needed to figure this out, and fast. But for now, all I could do was wait, and hope that Gaby could keep her promise. As the minutes ticked by, each second felt like an eternity, and the gnawing worry in my chest only grew stronger. I tried to distract myself, to focus on anything else, but my mind kept drifting back to the field, to Nathan and Gaby out there alone.
They had to be okay. They just had to be.
With a sigh, I pulled out my phone, hoping to distract myself from the gnawing worry and uncertainty. I scrolled through my music library, not really looking at the titles, just wanting something—anything—to fill the silence. Selecting a random song on shuffle, I leaned back on the couch and closed my eyes, letting the familiar melody wash over me.
The music helped, if only a little. I tried to focus on positive thoughts for once, letting the soothing rhythm of the song guide my mind away from the chaos. I thought about Nathan, about how he hadn't been too traumatized by witnessing me kill Jordan right in front of him. For a five-year-old, he was remarkably resilient. It brought a small, relieved smile to my face knowing he was still somewhat pure, still able to find joy in the simplest things.
But then, a darker thought crept in. What if Nathan was just masking his fears and anxiety with that cheerful smile? What if, deep down, he was just as scared and confused as I was? The thought made my chest tighten, and I quickly pushed it away. I couldn't afford to spiral into that kind of thinking. Not now.
Instead, I let my thoughts drift to last night. Gaby had invited me to join her on the mattress, knowing full well she wasn't wearing anything but her underwear. She always was a tease, always trying to make me flustered at any chance she got. It was just her way, a playful quirk that had been part of her personality since the start. Thinking about it brought a genuine smile to my face, a small flicker of warmth in the cold reality we lived in.
Gaby had always been like that, ever since we were kids. She had this uncanny ability to make me laugh, to lift my spirits even in the darkest of times. I wouldn't change that for the world. It was one of the many things I loved about her. Memories of the old days with Gaby, our little gang, and my big sister started to surface. We had been through so much together, shared so many laughs and tears. Those were simpler times, happier times.
But then, my smile faded as the thought of my big sister brought back some painful memories. Emma. Her death from birthing Nathan was a tragedy I still hadn't gotten over, even after five long years. She had been my rock, my protector, and losing her had shattered me in ways I still couldn't fully comprehend. I wondered what would've changed if she had stayed alive. Would things be different? Would I be happier than I am now? The questions lingered, unanswered and haunting.
I cursed fate for taking Emma away from me, for taking away her chance to mother Nathan. She would have been so good at it, so much better than I could ever hope to be. The pain of her loss was still raw, a wound that refused to heal. I missed her every day, and the ache of her absence was a constant companion. It felt like a cruel joke, a twist of fate that had left me to pick up the pieces and navigate a world I didn't understand, all while trying to protect a boy who deserved so much more than I could give him.
The song playing on my phone shifted to a new track, its upbeat tempo contrasting sharply with the heavy thoughts weighing me down. I took a deep breath, trying to center myself. I needed to stay strong, for Nathan, for Gaby, for myself. I couldn't afford to dwell on what could have been. I had to focus on the present, on the challenges right in front of me.
But it was hard, so damn hard. Every day felt like a battle, and I was tired. Tired of fighting, tired of pretending everything was okay when it wasn't. I glanced at the door, half-expecting Gaby and Nathan to come bursting in with smiles and laughter, but the room remained eerily quiet.
Leaning back, I closed my eyes again, trying to lose myself in the music. The familiar melodies offered a brief escape, a momentary reprieve from the chaos of my thoughts. As I listened, I let the memories of Emma, Gaby, and the old gang wash over me, bittersweet and comforting. They were gone, those days, but the memories remained, a testament to the love and friendship we had shared.
I whispered softly to myself, "Emma, I wish you were here. I wish you could see Nathan growing up, see the boy he's becoming. I miss you so much." The tears I had been holding back finally spilled over.
Frustration welled up inside me as the tears continued to fall. I didn't want to cry. I didn't want to feel weak. I was supposed to be strong, supposed to hold everything together. It made me angry at myself. Why did I always have to break down when things got tough? Why couldn't I just keep it together?
I wiped my eyes roughly and took a shaky breath, trying to compose myself. I had to keep going, had to keep fighting. For Nathan, for Gaby, and for Emma. I couldn't let them down. I wouldn't let them down. I would find a way to keep us safe, no matter what it took.
I sighed deeply, realising that trying to get comfortable on the couch wasn’t helping at all. Restlessness gnawed at me, and I needed to keep my eyes on Nathan, to reassure myself that he was safe. Pushing myself up, I walked out to the second-story balcony, lighting a cigarette as I leaned my arms against the railing. The sharp, familiar burn of the smoke filled my lungs, offering a temporary distraction from the whirlwind of thoughts in my mind.
As I watched Gaby chase after the ball, her movements awkward but spirited, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy. She seemed to adapt so quickly, finding joy even in this bizarre new setting. Nathan, with his youthful innocence, was completely engrossed in the game, his laughter ringing out clear and true, cutting through the morning air like music. They were out there, seemingly carefree, while I leaned heavily against the cold metal railing, a cigarette dangling between my fingers, lost in a haze of worry.
The smoke from my cigarette curled up into the sky, mingling with the mild breeze. I inhaled deeply, the nicotine hitting my system with a familiar rush, a temporary relief from the relentless anxiety. Each puff was a momentary escape, a brief pause from the relentless questions hammering at the back of my mind. What the hell had Discord done? Transporting an entire block to god knows where—was this his twisted way of giving us a new start? Or was it a trap, a new form of confinement?
I gritted my teeth, the taste of tobacco bitter on my tongue. That damn dog… if I ever got my hands on him. The promise of answers, of some miraculous offer, now seemed like just another layer of the mess we were stuck in. And here I was, supposed to be the protector, the one who fixes things, yet all I could do was watch from a balcony, feeling more helpless than ever.
As my eyes scanned the horizon, the vibrant greens and the wildflowers dotting the field, a part of me wanted to believe that maybe, just maybe, this could be a chance for something better. The air smelled of pine and earth, so different from the urban decay and the stench of weed and fear that marked our old paths. But the beauty of this place couldn’t fully mask the undercurrent of dread that lurked beneath the surface.
Turning my gaze back to Nathan and Gaby, I saw them through a different lens. They were just specks of normalcy in a vast, uncertain landscape. Nathan, kicking the ball with the unbridled enthusiasm of a child who idolizes football stars, unaware of the complexities that hung over us like a dark cloud. And Gaby, laughing as she played along, her carefree demeanor a sharp contrast to the tightness in my chest.
I exhaled a stream of smoke, watching it disperse into the air, its transient nature a mirror to my fleeting hopes. The peace they found in this moment was fragile, threatened by the unknowns that surrounded us. What dangers lay beyond the tree line? What if this serene field was just a façade, hiding threats we couldn’t yet see? The thought sent a chill down my spine, and I shuddered despite the warmth of the sun on my back.
And then there was the stark reminder of our isolation. The empty block behind me, a ghostly shell of our former lives, carried the eerie silence of abandonment. The realization that it was just us, truly alone, was both a relief and a burden. Relief because the usual threats were absent, but a burden because any new dangers we faced, we faced without backup.
I took another drag of my cigarette, the harsh smoke a stark reminder of the reality we now lived in. This wasn’t just an adventure or a strange anomaly; it was our life, unpredictably altered in ways I couldn’t even begin to understand. As the smoke filled my lungs, I pondered our next steps. We were in uncharted territory, both literally and figuratively, and the weight of every decision now felt heavier than ever.
I flicked the cigarette butt off the balcony, watching it spiral down to the ground, a small act of defiance against the helplessness that tried to take hold. We might not have chosen this path, but I’d be damned if I didn’t fight to make it ours. With a resolve hardened by the trials we’d already faced, I pushed off from the railing, ready to face whatever this new world had to throw at us.
~Chapter end~
Chapter 4 - A Bite of Splinter.
Author's Note
This chapter was meant to be a part of chapter 3 but I split it in half due to it being too long.
Chapter 4 - A Bite of Splinter.
Chapter 4.
“True Protectiveness means being willing to stand up for someone even when it’s hard.”
I made my way across the second-floor hallway, my steps echoing slightly in the eerie silence that seemed to blanket the entire block. It was unsettling, this quiet. Not a single sound from behind the closed doors, no TV noise, no arguing voices—nothing. The stillness was palpable, pressing down on me with an almost physical weight.
With a deep breath to steel my nerves, I approached my neighbour. I knocked, first softly, then with more insistence. No answer. I waited a beat, my ears straining for any sign of life, but there was only the sound of my own breathing and the faint rustle of my clothes. Moving on to the next door, I repeated the process, knocking and listening. Again, nothing.
I continued knocking on each door along the second-floor hallway, frustration mounting with each unanswered attempt. The silence was unnerving, each empty apartment adding weight to the oppressive stillness. As I stood in front of the fifth door, a thought struck me. I needed to be sure, and waiting for someone to answer clearly wasn’t getting me anywhere.
Turning on my heel, I headed back to my apartment. Inside, I went straight to the Liverpool poster on the wall. I stared at it for a moment, memories flooding back. Behind that poster was my little secret—a hidden slot where I kept my pick-locking equipment. I’d used those tools more times than I cared to admit. Times when survival meant sneaking into places and taking what I needed just to get by.
I peeled back the poster, revealing the small metal case tucked away in the wall. My fingers brushed over the worn edges of the case, a sense of grim familiarity settling over me. How many times had I relied on these tools to put food on the table or to get us through another week? Too many to count. It wasn’t something I was proud of, but in a world where trust was a luxury, sometimes you had to take matters into your own hands.
Grabbing the tools, I returned to the hallway. Inserting the pick into the lock of the first door, I worked with practiced ease, the tumblers clicking into place almost reassuringly. The door swung open with a soft creak, and I stepped inside, my senses heightened.
The first room was dim, the curtains drawn tight against the morning light. The air was thick with the smell of stale beer and cigarettes, a sour stench that made me wrinkle my nose. The place was a mess, with pizza boxes and empty bottles littering the floor. It looked like a bachelor pad, cluttered but organized in its own chaotic way. I rummaged through the kitchen, picking up cans of beans, packets of noodles, and a few bottles of water. In the bathroom, I found a first aid kit and some toiletries. The bedroom yielded a stash of cigarettes and a lighter. I pocketed those, thinking they might come in handy for bartering if nothing else.
Room by room, I repeated the process, each empty apartment adding to the surreal nature of our situation. The second room I entered had a more sinister feel, with graffiti on the walls and a broken lamp on the floor. The place was clearly a drug den, the smell of weed still lingering in the air. I found a few packets of instant noodles, some cans of soup, and a bottle of whiskey in the kitchen. In the bathroom, I discovered some painkillers and a few toiletries. The bedroom was bare except for a dirty mattress on the floor and a small bag of drugs hidden under it. I took the drugs, thinking they might be useful for trading.
The third room was even worse. It looked like it had been abandoned in a hurry, with clothes and personal belongings strewn everywhere. The smell of mold was overwhelming, making me gag. I found some canned goods in the kitchen, along with a few bottles of water. The bathroom had a broken mirror and a few more toiletries. In the living room, I discovered an old Xbox, which I decided to take for Nathan. He'd been through enough, and a bit of distraction would do him good.
The fourth room was a bit of a relief. It was a family home, with toys scattered around and family photos on the walls. I felt a pang of guilt as I went through their things, but survival was survival. I found a well-stocked pantry, full of canned goods and dry food. There was also a small medical kit in the bathroom. In one of the bedrooms, I found a stash of books and some children's toys. I took a few for Nathan, thinking they'd help keep him occupied.
The fifth room was the neatest of them all, almost as if the occupant was a bit of a neat freak. Everything was in its place, and there wasn't a speck of dust to be found. The air was stale but clean, the scent of disinfectant lingering. I found a couple of knives in the kitchen, which I took for self-defense. There was also a stash of cash and some more bottles of water. The bathroom had a wide array of toiletries, including some high-quality shampoo and conditioner that I knew Gaby would appreciate. In the living room, I found a few more bottles of alcohol, which I decided to take for potential trade value.
As I carted the supplies back to our apartment, a part of me felt like a burglar, pillaging through the remnants of absent lives. Yet, another part felt oddly justified. This was about survival, and in a world where the rules had been turned upside down, survival meant taking opportunities where you found them.
The apartment quickly filled with the spoils of my impromptu scavenging. With each item I stashed away, a piece of the ever-present anxiety that gnawed at my insides faded. This was good—really good. We had enough supplies to last us a while, and I had only gone through five dorm rooms.
Despite the unsettling start to our morning and the bizarre reality of our situation, a new confidence began to settle in. We could make it here, I thought. We could actually survive this. As I looked around at the stockpile of goods, a small, determined smile crept across my face. Whatever this new world held, we were going to face it head-on. And we were going to survive.
Picking the lock into Jordan’s apartment didn’t exactly fill me with excitement. If anything, it steeled me for whatever sordid sights lay beyond that door. The moment it clicked open, a wave of repugnant odors assaulted my senses—a pungent cocktail of booze, vomit, sex, and a general lack of hygiene that made my stomach churn. I should've known; Jordan's parties were infamous, the kind I'd never attend, not in a million years.
As I stepped inside, the scene before me confirmed my worst suspicions. The living room was a disgrace, with men’s and women’s clothing tossed all over, a stark testament to the debauchery that had occurred. The air was thick, the residue of sex practically tangible. I covered my nose, trying not to think about the bodies that had been entwined in various acts on these very surfaces.
Ignoring the limp condoms scattered around like the worst kind of confetti, I started rummaging through everything. Jordan’s penchant for hiding things was almost as well-known as his other habits. I flipped mattresses and overturned furniture with a singular focus—find anything of use.
Amid the chaos, a thin, leathery black book caught my eye. Labeled ‘Journal’, it seemed oddly personal for someone like Jordan. Curiosity piqued, I flipped it open, landing on a random page in the middle. The entry caught my eye immediately, a vulgar rant about meeting his big brother after years. It read:
Finally gonna see the big bro after all these fuckin’ years. Wonder if the bastard’s bulked up or gone soft. Either way, can’t wait to see if he still thinks he can boss me around. Fuckin’ prick always had a stick up his arse about bein' the oldest. This time, though, I’m ready. Got a few surprises up my sleeve, just in case he tries any of his old bullshit
And after this, gotta start planning my next move. Been laying low too long, itching to see what shit I can stir up next in this godforsaken town. Cops been breathin' down my neck ever since that last job, but they ain't got shit on me. Time to lay the groundwork for something big. Maybe hit that new club downtown, or scope out the rich pricks in the burbs. Could use a nice score to get the blood pumpin' again.
Speaking of which, I need to get back into the game. My knife’s been feeling too clean lately. Maybe rough up some of those lowlifes hangin' around the park, show them who's boss. Or better yet, find out who's been messing with our turf. No one fucks with what’s ours without payin' the price. Got a new blade I’ve been itching to try out—sliced right through the mattress to keep it close. Feels good to have a bit of steel in hand again.
It was all so typical of Jordan—always scheming, always restless, and perpetually violent. The bravado in his words was almost laughable if it weren’t so dangerous. I shrugged and stuffed the journal into my duffle bag, dismissing it as the ramblings of a man too caught up in his own machismo.
After rummaging through the mess of clothes and debris on the living room floor of Jordan’s apartment, my search for valuables led me deeper into the chaos. The air was stale with the scent of last night’s indiscretions, and every corner seemed to hide another piece of Jordan’s disreputable life. As I flipped another mattress, looking for anything that could be of use, my hand brushed against something unexpectedly smooth and crisp tucked beneath it.
It was an envelope, old and yellowing, but sealed tightly. Intrigued, I tore it open to find a sheet of paper covered in strange symbols—runes, perhaps, that twirled and twisted around the page in an elegant dance. They were like nothing I had ever seen, etched with an ink that shimmered slightly when the light hit it just right. Below the mysterious symbols, a handwritten note caught my eye, its message clear and unsettling:
Mia, I’m sorry I had to do this. -D
The signature ‘D’ could only belong to one person—Discord. That damn dog had played his cards right under our noses. A wave of frustration washed over me as I realized this must be part of whatever twisted game he was dragging us into. The runes were probably magical, knowing him, meant to either protect us or guide us in this bizarre new world he’d dumped us into.
I tucked the note and its cryptic symbols into my duffle bag, a sense of urgency building within me. If Discord believed these were important, then ignoring them could be more dangerous than trying to decipher their meaning. As much as I despised being part of his manipulations, I couldn’t afford to turn away any potential help—not when our survival might depend on it.
My search continued, and given Jordan's lifestyle, it wasn't surprising when I found a stash of cash hidden under the floorboards and a collection of blades tucked inside a sliced mattress pocket. But nothing prepared me for the next find—a pistol perfectly concealed within a hollowed-out book. The gun was black, compact enough to fit in my hand, with a magazine inserted and another one lying next to it, fully loaded. A small red box nearby held additional ammunition.
Handling a firearm in the UK was no trivial matter. With strict gun control laws, possessing a firearm illegally could lead to serious jail time, something even Jordan should've been wary of. The discovery of the gun was a stark reminder of just how deep into the criminal underworld Jordan was involved.
I hesitated for a moment, considering the implications of taking the gun. But practicality won over caution—I zipped the book with the gun back into my bag. Who knew what we might need to defend ourselves against in this new, unpredictable environment?
I closed the apartment door behind me as I left, a mix of disgust and satisfaction churning inside me. This haul would certainly help us survive, but at what cost? As I headed back to our own apartment, the weight of the duffle bag on my shoulder felt like a tangible reminder of the dangerous game we were all unwilling players in.
(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)(-)
Nathan sat on the grassy field, his small fingers weaving delicate flower stems together to form necklaces. It was something Mia had taught him—a simple, calming craft that always made him feel close to her. The scent of fresh grass and wildflowers filled the air, mingling with the soft hum of insects. Nearby, Gaby lay on the grass with her eyes closed and hands behind her head, a chilled song playing softly from her phone. The melody blended perfectly with the sounds of nature, creating a peaceful ambiance that felt almost surreal after the chaos of recent events.
The sky was a bright blue, the sun casting warm rays that danced over the field. Nathan paused for a moment, holding a flower with vibrant red petals. The colour was striking against the green of the grass, but it stirred something unsettling within him. The red reminded him of the blood he had seen the other night—blood on Mia, blood on the bad man she had hurt. The memory was fresh and raw, and he didn't know how to process it. Mia had always been his big sister, always smiling and protecting him. But that night, she had been terrifying.
Nathan glanced at Gaby, who looked so relaxed and carefree. Her chest rose and fell with each slow, steady breath, and the gentle breeze ruffled her hair. He wondered if he could ask her about what was troubling him. Gathering his courage, he spoke up, his voice small and hesitant.
"Gaby?" he asked, looking at her with wide, innocent eyes.
Gaby opened her eyes and turned her head toward him, a gentle smile spreading across her face. "Yeah, Nate? What's up?"
"Can I ask you something?" he said, shifting a little closer to her, his fingers nervously twirling the flower stem.
"Of course, kiddo," Gaby replied, propping herself up on her elbows to give him her full attention. Her eyes were soft and warm, filled with concern and affection. "What's on your mind?"
Nathan took a deep breath, his fingers still playing with the flower necklace. "Is it okay to hurt people that hit me?"
Gaby's smile faltered slightly, concern flickering in her eyes. She sat up fully, her brows knitting together. "Why do you ask that, Nate?"
He hesitated, glancing down at the flower in his hands. The petals seemed to blur as his eyes filled with tears. "Last night, a bad man hurt me and Mia... and Mia hurt him back. Really, really badly. It scared me."
Gaby's expression softened, and she reached out to take Nathan's hand in hers. Her touch was warm and reassuring, the gentle motion calming his nerves. "Nathan, Mia loves you more than anything in this world. When you were tiny, she promised to look after you no matter what. Sometimes, that means doing things that might seem scary to protect you."
Nathan looked up at her, trying to understand the depth of her words. "But... is it okay?"
Gaby sighed softly, choosing her words carefully as she gently squeezed his hand. "It's not okay to hurt people for no reason. But if someone is trying to hurt you or someone you love, then sometimes you have to protect yourself. Mia did what she did because she wanted to keep you safe. And I would do the same thing. If anyone tried to hurt you, I'd kick their ass too."
A small smile tugged at Nathan's lips, feeling a bit more reassured by Gaby's words. He nodded, his fingers resuming their work on the flower necklace. He added the red flower to it, letting the vibrant color blend with the others. As he continued his work, the memory of that night still lingered, but it felt a little less heavy now. Gaby's words had given him some comfort, and he knew that no matter what happened, he had people who would always protect him.
Nathan glanced up at Gaby again, who had leaned back on her hands, her eyes closed as she enjoyed the sunlight on her face. The moment felt almost magical, a stark contrast to the violence and fear that had filled his life so recently. The soft rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of birds provided a serene soundtrack to their quiet afternoon.
He continued weaving the flower necklace, the repetitive motion soothing his troubled mind. The flowers were delicate, their petals soft against his fingertips. He could hear Gaby humming along to the song playing from her phone, her voice blending with the melody in a way that made him feel even more at ease. The grass beneath him was cool and slightly damp, a pleasant contrast to the warmth of the sun on his back.
Nathan finished the necklace, holding it up to admire his work. The red flower stood out vividly among the others, a reminder of the conversation he had just had with Gaby. He glanced at her, seeing her relaxed and at peace, and felt a surge of gratitude. No matter how scary things got, he knew he wasn't alone. He had Mia and Gaby, and they would always be there to protect him.
Nathan held up the flower necklace, his eyes tracing the delicate red petals that now seemed to symbolise something much deeper than just a simple bloom. As he looked at Gaby, lying back on the grass with her eyes closed, he felt a new resolve forming within him. One day, he thought, he would have to be the one to protect Mia, Gaby, and anyone else he cared about. The world was a scary place, and he couldn't always rely on them to keep him safe. He had to be strong, just like Mia was. The memory of her fierce determination to protect him, even if it meant doing something scary, stuck with him. He wanted to be that brave too.
Nathan's small hands clenched around the flower necklace, and he made a silent promise to himself. He would learn to be strong and brave, not just for himself, but for the people he loved. Gaby's words had given him comfort, but they had also given him a sense of responsibility. He didn't want to be a burden on them forever. He wanted to be someone they could depend on, someone who could stand up to the bad people and protect those who couldn't protect themselves. As he looked at the vibrant field around him, the flowers swaying gently in the breeze, Nathan felt a newfound determination blossom within him, much like the flowers he held.
Staring down at the gun in my hand, I felt a strange mix of fascination and unease. Here in my palm was something that I’d only ever seen in the darker corners of films or the pixelated chaos of video games—a real, damn heavy, black-as-the-night pistol. I turned it over, my fingers brushing against the cool, smooth metal of the barrel, the texture starkly different from anything I'd handled before. The weight of it was surprising, grounding; it made the threat of it palpably real.
I examined the weapon closely, trying to figure out how it worked. The mechanics of it were foreign to me. In games, it was just a button press—no thought required. But here, holding it, I realized I was dealing with something powerful and potentially deadly. I fumbled with it, feeling for any switches or buttons that might release the magazine. Eventually, my thumb brushed against something—a release switch. Before I knew it, the magazine disengaged with a loud click that was far too loud in the quiet morning air. It slipped from my grip, clattering down off the balcony and landing on the grass below with a soft thud.
"Bloody hell," I muttered under my breath, my cheeks heating up with a mix of frustration and embarrassment. I’d handled tricky situations before, but this was a new level of clumsy. But beyond the embarrassment, there was a realization—this gun was more than a clumsy mishap. It was power. Raw, unfiltered power. The kind that could protect Nathan and Gaby, or end lives in an instant. But it came with a caveat—ammo. Each bullet was precious, a lifeline in a situation where the rules of survival had changed overnight. I’d have to use it wisely, make every shot count, because there was no telling when or if I could find more.
As I pondered the weight of my new reality, my thoughts were interrupted by a sound that made my blood run cold. A familiar groan echoed up from the stairway, cutting through the morning stillness. My heart skipped a beat. It couldn’t be—no, Gaby and Nathan were out in the field, I could still see them from here, a small relief in a sea of chaos.
I spun around, my movements tense, expecting... I didn’t even know what. But nothing could have prepared me for the sight that greeted me. There he was, Jordan, his shaved head unmistakable, rubbing the back of his neck as he groaned and staggered up the last few steps.
How was he here? How was he even bloody walking? I felt a cold sweat break out across my forehead as the memories of that night flashed before my eyes—his body lifeless, the pool of blood, the relentless sound of my own heartbeat thundering in my ears as I plunged the knife again and again.
And yet, here he was, looking like he’d just woken up from a rough night, not like someone who should be cold in the ground. What the hell was going on? Was it Discord's magic? Some sick game he was playing at my expense?
The sight of Jordan, alive and seemingly unharmed, sent a shiver down my spine. The rules had changed overnight, and I had no bloody clue what the new ones were. But one thing was clear: I had a powerful weapon now… well, a useless one now but, Jordan wouldn’t know that. And with Nathan and Gaby depending on me, I had to be prepared to use it. Every bullet counted, every shot had to matter. This was no game, and I was going to make sure I played to win.
Mia and Jordan locked eyes, the tension palpable. Jordan’s infamous smirk spread across his face—a look Mia had come to despise. She covertly slipped the empty gun into her back pocket, her movements swift and discreet. Jordan’s casual stride toward her carried an air of arrogance that made Mia’s skin crawl. “What’s with the death glare, Mia? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he joked, his tone light but failing to mask the venom underneath.
Mia exhaled sharply, her patience wearing thin. “Just fuck off, Jordan,” she muttered, her gaze shifting to the open fields beyond the balcony, hoping to avoid further confrontation. But Jordan wasn’t deterred. Infuriated by her dismissal, he stepped closer, his actions crossing a line he knew all too well. He whispered lewd comments as his hand boldly grazed her backside.
This time, Mia’s response was immediate and fierce. She spun around and slapped him hard across the face, the crack of her palm against his skin echoing sharply. Jordan staggered back, his face a mixture of shock and rage. “You fucking bitch,” he spat, his hand instinctively moving to his cheek.
Normally, Mia would retreat, choosing to avoid conflict, especially when Jordan was backed by his cronies. But today was different. They were alone, and the power dynamics had shifted. Mia felt a surge of defiance.
As Jordan’s fists clenched, signalling his intent, Mia didn’t hesitate. She drew the kitchen knife—the very one she’d used in what she believed was his demise. The sight of the blade made Jordan halt, his bravado faltering. “Easy, Mia. Don’t do something you’ll regret,” he cautioned, his voice unsteady.
Mia pressed the tip of the knife against his chest, her expression steely. “Watch your mouth, Jordan,” she hissed, the threat clear in her tone. Despite the danger, a shaky grin lingered on Jordan’s lips, but Mia could see the fear in his eyes. She leaned against the balcony railing, using it for support as she kept one eye on the fields where Nathan played, and the other on Jordan.
Jordan, still reeling from the shock of Mia’s aggression, commented on her mood. “Not a morning person, huh?” But his attempt at humour died quickly as he turned and saw the vast, unfamiliar landscape for the first time. His mouth fell open, his previous cockiness replaced by confusion and awe.
“What the hell is this? Where are we?” he demanded, his frustration mounting. Mia watched him closely, her grip on the knife firm. “I wish I knew, Jordan. But we’re definitely not in Halewood anymore,” she replied, her voice calm despite the swirling chaos of her thoughts.
Jordan began pacing, his movements erratic as he struggled to process their new reality. He banged on the nearby doors, shouting for others to wake up. Mia followed him, trying to intervene. “Jordan, stop. There’s no one else. It’s just us,” she attempted to explain, but he was beyond reason.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Jordan snapped, halting his frantic movements to stare at her incredulously.
Mia sighed, lowering her knife slightly as she met his gaze. “I’ve checked, Jordan. Every room. It’s empty. Everyone’s gone—just vanished. All their things are still here, but the people… they’re gone.” Her voice was steady, but the reality of their situation was sinking in, making her heart race.
Jordan’s eyes darted from Mia to the open doorways lining the corridor. “Gone? How? Why are we still here then?” His voice cracked with a mix of fear and confusion.
Mia shrugged, her own uncertainty mirroring his. “I don’t know. But it’s just us now—me, you, and…” She paused, deciding not to mention Nathan and Gaby yet. “That’s it. We need to figure out what’s going on.”
Suddenly, the tranquility was ruptured by a series of deep, eerie howls echoing across the fields, shattering the morning stillness. Mia's heart seized in terror, her blood turning icy as the sound wormed its way into her very bones. Clutching the balcony railing with trembling hands, she strained her eyes against the horizon where the dark figures emerged, slicing through the fog like nightmares come to life.
The sight of those creatures—so swift, so silent, yet screaming danger with every bound towards Nathan and Gabe—sparked a panic in Mia that clawed at her chest with cold fingers. “Christ, not now,” she whispered, a plea to no one, her voice a thread of despair lost on the wind.
With a protective fury building inside her, she leaned forward, her knuckles whitening on the railing. Her throat tightened, a mix of fear and maternal instinct making her stomach churn. She sucked in a sharp breath, preparing to alert Nathan, the words catching in her throat like barbed wire.
"Run, Nathan! For fuck’s sake, run!" Mia screamed, her voice slicing through the morning air, raw and dripping with terror. The urgency in her shout shattered the last vestiges of silence, filling the space with a tangible dread. Her heart pounded in her chest, each beat echoing the fear that clawed at her insides.
Gaby, catching sight of the dark figures rapidly closing in on them, didn't hesitate. Without a second thought, she scooped up a confused and terrified Nathan, her own fear reflected in his wide eyes. "Hold on tight, Nathan!" she urged, her voice shaky but determined.
She bolted toward the block, her legs pumping furiously as if the very ground beneath her threatened to swallow them whole. Nathan clung to her, his small hands gripping her shirt, his face buried against her shoulder. Gaby's breath came in sharp, ragged gasps, her mind singularly focused on reaching the safety of the building.
Mia watched from the balcony, every muscle in her body taut with fear and desperation. "Faster, Gaby! Come on!" she shouted, her voice hoarse, willing them to move quicker. The sight of the creatures gaining ground made her feel sick with dread. Her heart hammered in her chest, a relentless drumbeat of panic and helplessness.
The moments stretched, each second feeling like an eternity. Gaby's feet pounded against the ground, the sound mixing with Nathan's frightened whimpers and the distant, haunting howls of the creatures. The block loomed closer, but so did the dark figures, their sinister forms growing more defined with each passing moment.
"Come on, come on," Mia muttered under her breath, her fingers digging into the railing so hard her knuckles turned white. She felt a surge of anger at the situation, at the helplessness she felt. "Fucking hell, just a little more!" she urged, her voice breaking.
Gaby's face was a mask of determination and fear, her eyes fixed on the door ahead. She could feel Nathan trembling in her arms, his fear feeding her own. With a final, desperate burst of speed, she reached the block, slamming into the door with her shoulder, trying to open it.
Mia's heart leaped into her throat as she watched them struggle. "Push the buzzer, Nathan!" she shouted, remembering the lock mechanism. Nathan's small hand fumbled for the button, his movements frantic. With a burst of speed, I ran to my apartment, hearing a buzzing sound that got louder with each step forward. I answered the call with a press of a button, making the buzzing stop and for the entry door open.
Mia's breath caught in her throat, relief flooding her body as she saw them safe inside. But the relief was short-lived. The sound of the creatures scratching and howling outside the door was a stark reminder that the danger was far from over.
I bolted from the balcony, my mind a whirlwind of self-reproach and fear. I berated myself mercilessly as I sprinted down the hallway. "Stupid, so fucking stupid," I muttered under my breath, my footsteps echoing loudly in the empty corridor. The guilt of letting Nathan out of my sight gnawed at me, amplifying the pounding in my chest. I had allowed the serene deception of the open field to lull me into a false sense of security, forgetting that in unfamiliar territories, appearances could be deadly misleading.
Suddenly, a piercing scream cut through the air, halting me in my tracks. It was a gut-wrenching sound, raw and filled with terror. For a horrifying second, my heart stopped—I couldn’t tell if the scream had come from Nathan or Gaby. The ambiguity of the scream only fueled my fear, igniting a frantic urgency in my veins.
Without a second thought, I took the stairs two, three at a time, my hand sliding along the railing for balance. My instincts screamed at me to move faster, each step propelled by the visceral fear of arriving too late. The possibility that Nathan might be injured—or worse—by those nightmarish creatures clawed at my mind, driving me forward with reckless abandon.
As I reached the halfway point, impatience and adrenaline took over. Instead of taking the stairs step by step, I began leaping down them by the dozen, using the stair railing as leverage to launch myself forward. Each landing jarred my knees, sending sharp pains shooting up my legs, but I barely registered the discomfort. My sole focus was on getting to Nathan and Gaby, on being the shield I had always promised to be.
My boots thudded loudly against the concrete steps, the sound reverberating through the otherwise silent building. With each floor I descended, my anxiety twisted tighter, my breaths coming in quick, shallow gasps. The echo of my own racing heartbeat thundered in my ears, almost drowning out the distant, continued cries and the menacing growls that now filled the air.
As I neared the ground floor, the reality of what I might find there loomed over me, a shadow as dark as the threat that prowled just beyond the safety of our makeshift stronghold. I prepared myself for the worst, ready to fight, to protect, to do whatever it took. My hand tightened around the knife’s handle, its familiar weight a cold comfort in my shaking hand. My resolve hardened with each step; no matter what awaited me, I would face it head-on, for Nathan, for Gaby, for the fragile semblance of family we had cobbled together in the face of endless chaos.
Reaching the bottom, the pained moans and screams became more prominent, echoing through the hall. My heart was pounding in my chest, but I felt a wave of relief wash over me when I saw Nathan, his small figure huddled by the stairway, tears streaming down his cheeks as he stared wide-eyed down the corridor towards the entry. The look of fear on his face broke my heart, but at least he was okay.
My relief was short-lived as my gaze shifted to the source of the commotion. Gaby was locked in a desperate struggle with a monstrous wooden beast, its form resembling a grotesque wolf. More of these wooden horrors clawed and barked at the door and windows, their hollow eyes fixed on the chaos inside. The wolf had its canines buried deep into Gaby’s arm, blood pouring from the wound and soaking her clothes and the floor. The sight made my blood run cold.
Without a second thought, I charged at the wolf, my knife gripped tightly in my hand. I struck at the side of the creature’s ribs, expecting it to yelp or recoil. Instead, the blade merely splintered the wood, leaving the beast unfazed. Panic surged through me as I realised my attack had little effect.
“Fuck,” I muttered, dropping the knife in desperation. I leapt onto the wolf’s back, wrapping my hands around its jaw, trying to pry its mouth open and free Gaby. My muscles strained, and my fingers ached as I pulled with all my strength, but the beast’s jaws remained firmly clamped.
In the corner of my eye, I saw Jordan standing there, his face a mask of shock and disbelief. “Jordan! Help me, you fuck!” I shouted, my voice raw with frustration and fear. He just stood there for a moment, staring at the scene like a deer caught in headlights. Then he called me a crazy bitch and bolted back up the stairs. I growled in frustration, the cowardice of that prick fuelling my anger.
Desperation pushed me to notice something odd—a faint green glow emanating from within the layers of wood in the wolf’s head. Without hesitation, I grabbed the knife again, channeling every ounce of strength and anger into my grip. I slashed at the glowing spot, the blade cutting through the wood with a satisfying crack. The green light flickered and then extinguished, and the wolf crumpled into a heap of lifeless wood.
Gasping for breath, I quickly turned to Gaby, her face pale from pain and blood loss. "Are you okay?" I asked, my voice trembling.
She nodded weakly, her free hand clutching her wounded arm. "I’ll manage," she said through gritted teeth, her eyes betraying the pain she was in. I could see the strain in her eyes, the effort it took just to stay upright. The sight of her blood-soaked sleeve made my stomach churn, a stark reminder of how vulnerable we all were in this unknown place.
I hurried over to Nathan, scooping him up into my arms, his small body trembling against mine. "It’s okay, Nate. It’s over," I whispered, trying to reassure him and myself. His little hands clung to me tightly, and I could feel his tears soaking through my shirt. I held him close, rocking him gently, wishing I could shield him from all of this.
As I looked around at the shattered remains of the wooden wolf and the blood-stained floor, I realised how close we had come to disaster. This new world, with its deceptive beauty and hidden dangers, was going to test us in ways we had never imagined. I felt a mix of anger and guilt—anger at myself for letting my guard down and guilt for allowing Nathan and Gaby to be exposed to such danger.
I knew I had to be stronger, for Nathan, for Gaby, and for myself. No more second-guessing, no more letting my guard down. This place was a twisted version of paradise, and we couldn’t afford any more mistakes. I clenched my jaw, a new resolve hardening within me. We would survive this, no matter what it took.
Nathan's sobs began to quiet, but he still clung to me, his grip not loosening. "Mia, what were those things?" he asked, his voice small and scared.
I didn't have an answer for him, not a real one. "I don't know, Nate," I said softly, stroking his hair. "But I promise you, I won't let them hurt you. We'll figure this out, I swear."
Gaby managed a weak smile, though it was clear she was in immense pain. "Always the protector, huh, Mia?" she said, trying to lighten the mood despite the situation.
I nodded, my throat tight with emotion. "Someone has to be," I replied, my voice steadying. "Come on, we need to get you cleaned up and find something to stop the bleeding."
Gaby gave a slight nod, her movements sluggish and weary. I gently supported her, guiding her towards the stairs. Nathan stayed close to my side, his hand gripping mine tightly.
We moved slowly, every step feeling like an eternity. My mind raced with thoughts of what we needed to do next—find medical supplies, secure our surroundings, and most importantly, figure out what the hell was happening. But for now, the immediate goal was to ensure Gaby's safety and comfort.
Reaching the apartment, I carefully set Nathan down and instructed him to stay put. I rummaged through the supplies we had gathered earlier, finding a first aid kit that looked promising. I pulled out some bandages and antiseptic, kneeling beside Gaby to tend to her wound.
"Hold still, this might sting," I warned, trying to be as gentle as possible. Gaby winced as I cleaned the bite, her face contorting in pain, but she didn’t make a sound. I admired her strength and resilience, traits that had kept us both going through countless hardships.
As I wrapped the bandage around her arm, my mind continued to race. We had so much to figure out, so much to plan for. But I knew one thing for certain—we were in this together, and we would face whatever came our way, side by side. This place might be unknown and dangerous, but we had each other, and that was something no creature, no matter how monstrous, could take away from us.
~Chapter end~
Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter. Chapter 6 - Oh, now you show up.
"Survival can be summed up in three words—never give up. That’s the heart of it really. Just keep trying."
As I trudge down the path that’s wide enough to comfortably fit two cars side by side, the familiar weight of my duffle bag slung across my shoulder feels oddly reassuring. Inside, it's packed with the basics: a water bottle to stave off thirst, a few snacks to keep my energy up, and basic first-aid supplies—nothing fancy, just enough to patch up minor scrapes or cuts I might earn out here. I've learned it's best to be prepared, especially when stepping into the unknown.
My hand grips the handle of my blade tightly, the metal cool and solid beneath my fingers. It's a constant reminder of the need to be alert, particularly to my right where the dark forest looms ominously. The trees cluster tightly, their branches knitting together to form a dense canopy that swallows light and sound. Every shadow could conceal danger, and my eyes dart from one potential hiding spot to another, never resting too long in any one place.
Contrasting with the oppressive watchfulness of the forest, to my left runs a calm river. Its waters ripple gently, a soothing soundtrack to my wary steps. The rhythmic sound of water flowing over rocks should be calming, yet in this isolation, it underscores just how far I am from any semblance of civilization. It’s both a reminder of the peaceful world I've lost and a marker of the wild one I've found myself in.
Topping off my ensemble is a well-worn black cap, edges frayed from years of use. It's not just a barrier against the sun or a bad hair day—it's a memento of tougher times, a gift from Jaden. That cap, like the black snood looped around my neck, isn't merely for warmth or disguise. It’s part of my armor, a physical reminder of the lessons Jaden imparted: how to fight, how to steal, and how to survive. He taught me to be resourceful, to think on my feet, to trust my instincts.
Each cautious step I take is charged with an electric mix of fear and adrenaline. With my senses heightened, I scan the horizon, the ground, the sky—everywhere. Behind every flutter of leaves or distant snap of a branch, my mind races with possibilities. This path I walk is as much a test of my nerve as it is a physical journey, each moment pushing me further into the embrace of this wild, unforgiven world. I’m out here on my own, but I'm not just surviving—I'm learning how to live in this new, untamed reality.
Mia was taking in every detail she walked past, not to enjoy the view but to memorise certain landmarks just in case she got lost and found herself backtracking. Ever since she left the block, she’s been making a conscious effort to focus on her surroundings—Mia's memory could be shockingly bad. She could forget her head if it wasn't screwed on tight; once, she spent half an hour searching for her phone while using it to light up the dark corners of her flat. It was important now, more than ever, to keep her wits about her and not let her mind wander off like that again.
As I trudged down the path, each step felt heavier with the burden of confusion and worry pressing down on me. Thoughts of Discord swirled in my head like a relentless storm. Why me? What did that enigmatic dog want from me? Where was he now? He'd dragged me, Nathan, Gaby, and that git Jordan into this mess, but for what? Three criminals and an innocent kid—it sounded like the setup for a bad joke, not a life-altering adventure in a strange world.
I cursed under my breath, frustrated at myself for not paying more attention when Discord spilled his tale of Equestrian woes. Something about a conflict between Earth ponies and... royalty? I could barely piece the fragments together. Was it really about killing royalty? My memory was a sieve, apparently.
With each step, the frustration gnawed at me. Why should I, of all people, be tangled up in this? What made me—Mia, just a girl from Liverpool who's always been more about survival than heroics—so special? The notion was absurd, almost laughable. Yet, here I was, smack in the middle of a magical crisis, and it was definitely not a laughing matter.
The idea that I might somehow be key to some grand, magical resolution was ridiculous. But the reality of my current situation was far from ridiculous—it was deadly serious. As I gripped my knife a little tighter, the physical action seemed to mirror my mental resolve to sort through this mess. I wasn't some storybook hero; I was just trying to keep the few people I care about safe.
The weight of the unknown was crushing, but it solidified something within me. I had to find answers, not just for my own peace of mind, but for Nathan and Gaby's sake. They were counting on me, and I wouldn't let them down. The details of Discord's mission might be murky, but my role as their protector was crystal clear. For now, survival was the priority; the mysteries of this bizarre adventure would have to wait.
As I walked down the path, the sudden rustle in the bushes made me freeze in my tracks, adrenaline surging through me. Instinctively, I slid my duffle bag off my shoulder, ready to confront whatever threat might emerge. Clutching the knife tightly, I flipped it to hold it upside down, prepared for a stabbing motion rather than a slash—experience had taught me that these wooden wolves required a more fatal approach if you wanted to stop them.
I braced myself, every muscle tensed for the imminent danger. A few heart-pounding seconds passed with more rustling from the bushes. Then, to my embarrassment and relief, a small brown bunny hopped out onto the path. It looked around innocently, its nose twitching as it sensed the environment, oblivious to the drama it had just caused.
A soft chuckle escaped me as I lowered the knife, shaking my head at my readiness to battle a mere rabbit. "Really, Mia? Getting jumpy over a bunny now?" I muttered to myself, feeling a mix of relief and foolishness.
The bunny hopped a few more steps, its small body exuding an aura of carefree innocence that struck a chord with me. For a fleeting second, I contemplated catching it—after all, we could do with more food. But as I watched it explore its surroundings with naive curiosity, I couldn't bring myself to do it. Its behavior was too reminiscent of Nathan's wide-eyed wonder about the world, and disrupting that felt wrong somehow.
Instead, I found myself wondering about its family. It was unusual for a baby rabbit to be out alone without the protection of its mother. "Where's your mum, little one?" I pondered aloud, a pang of sadness hitting me as I considered the possibilities. It was likely that its parents had fallen prey to a predator or perhaps even one of those wooden wolves. The thought made me shiver with a mix of empathy and resolve.
On impulse, I decided to keep the rabbit. "I'll look after you, little fella. Can't have you roaming around all alone, can we?" I spoke softly, as if it could understand my intentions. Carefully, I approached it, my movements slow and gentle to not startle it. Surprisingly, the bunny didn't flee but watched me with a mixture of curiosity and caution.
I scooped it up, feeling its soft fur against my hands, its body warm and trembling. "Don't worry, I've got you," I assured it, and it seemed to settle a bit in my grasp.
As the bushes behind me rustled once more, my heart leapt into my throat. Whipping my head around, I caught sight of another of those damned wooden wolves leaping out, its maw gaping in a snarl, teeth bared and stained with what looked like old blood. Instinct took over. Clutching the trembling bunny to my chest, I threw myself to the side just as the wolf’s jaws snapped shut where I’d just been standing.
Scrambling to my feet, my breaths came out in harsh pants, adrenaline surging through my veins. I shifted the small rabbit to my left arm, trying to shield it with my body as I readied the knife again with my right hand. The wolf paced before me, its movements mirroring my own, eyes locked on mine with a predatory glare. Each step I took back, it matched, closing the gap with a growl that vibrated through the cool air.
The situation was dire. I was out here, alone, protecting not just myself but a tiny creature against a beast made of wood and malice. The thought flashed through my mind—should I run? No, that option was out. These beasts could outrun any human, and their endurance was nothing to scoff at. Fighting was the only viable option, though now, I was also burdened with the safety of this little rabbit.
The sudden crack of a twig behind me was the only warning I got before I felt the heavy impact of another wooden wolf launching itself toward me. Its movement was a blur of dark, jagged wood and malevolent intent. I twisted away in a reflexive attempt to evade it, but it was too fast, too cunning. Its jagged teeth caught the edge of my sleeve, yanking forcefully. The sudden pull dragged me downward, forcing me onto one knee. The fabric of my hoodie strained against the force, threatening to drag me further into its grasp.
Realizing the futility of a tug-of-war with this beast, I made a split-second decision. With a swift movement, I wriggled out of my hoodie, sacrificing it to gain a precious moment of freedom. The wolf stumbled backward slightly, surprised by the sudden lack of resistance, clutching the hoodie in its wooden jaws.
Now in just my freshly found black tank shirt, I regained my footing, shifting the trembling bunny more securely against my chest with one arm while brandishing my knife with the other. The cool air brushed against my exposed skin, raising goosebumps but sharpening my focus. I crouched slightly, adopting a defensive stance that Jaden had drilled into me back when life was just a series of fights and flights.
With my knife poised for a strike, I eyed the two predators circling me. The first wolf, momentarily distracted by the hoodie, shook it violently, tearing the fabric with a series of mechanical, crunching sounds. Both of them then turned their intense, glowing green gazes back on me, synchronizing their menacing steps as they prepared to attack again.
I was outflanked and outnumbered but not outwilled. The stakes were too high, and the innocent life I cradled added weight to my resolve. Every sinew in my body tensed, ready to fight, ready to protect, ready to survive. The forest around us seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the confrontation that was about to unfold.
I moved backward slowly, every muscle coiled tight with tension. Two wolves now stalked me, their wooden forms creaking with each step. This fight wasn’t one I could win alone, not with just a knife and a trembling bunny clutched to my chest. Running seemed like a desperate gamble, but it was the only option left. Maybe, just maybe, a miracle would happen, and I’d escape unscathed. I could almost laugh at the absurdity of that hope.
Their approach quickened, their growls growing louder and more menacing. The moment I turned to bolt, the forest around me exploded into motion. The path ahead seemed to stretch endlessly, the shadows of the trees creating a tunnel of looming dread. My heart pounded in my ears, each beat a thunderous drum that echoed my frantic footsteps.
I sprinted as fast as I could, each step pounding against the dirt path, careful to keep my knife from slashing my own side. The bunny nestled against my chest trembled with each jolt, its tiny heart beating rapidly in sync with mine. The distance between me and the wolves was rapidly closing, their wooden paws pounding the ground in a relentless rhythm. Their barks and snarls grew louder, more urgent, like the sound of an oncoming storm.
Panic started to claw at the edges of my mind. I glanced over my shoulder, the sight of those monstrous wooden figures gaining on me sending a jolt of pure fear through my veins. Their green eyes glowed with an eerie light, their jaws snapping hungrily. The world around me blurred as my focus narrowed to the path ahead and the ever-present threat behind.
Desperation fueled my movements as I scanned the surroundings for any potential escape. The trees on either side seemed to close in, their branches reaching out like skeletal hands. The river to my left continued its tranquil journey, mocking my frantic struggle with its serene flow. But there was no time to appreciate nature's irony.
My breaths came in ragged gasps, each one feeling like fire in my lungs. My legs burned with the effort, muscles screaming in protest, but I couldn't afford to slow down. The path twisted and turned, every corner revealing more forest and no sign of refuge. The wolves' snarls grew closer, their breath hot on my heels.
I could almost feel their teeth nipping at my heels, the imminent danger driving me forward. My mind raced with possibilities, each one more improbable than the last. The forest seemed to be an endless maze, every tree and rock blurring together in my frantic dash.
Then, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a fallen tree lying parallel to the path. It was a gamble, but it might just be my saving grace. Veering sharply to the left, I made a split-second decision and vaulted over the tree, hoping it would slow the wolves down, if only for a moment. The bunny squeaked in protest, but I held it tighter, praying we’d make it through this ordeal together.
I didn't dare look back again. I just ran, each step a plea for survival, each breath a testament to my will to protect the fragile life in my arms. The path ahead remained uncertain, but I had no choice but to keep moving, to keep fighting, to survive.
Then, like a lifeline thrown in the midst of a storm, I spotted it—an opportunity to escape the jaws of death. Just ahead, a sturdy branch hung low enough to offer salvation. With each desperate stride, it drew closer, my only chance at survival now hanging on my ability to reach it. I sheathed my knife quickly, freeing my hands for the crucial leap.
Timing was everything. The wolves were right on my heels, their snarls a terrifying chorus that fueled my adrenaline. I could almost feel their breath on my skin, the heat of their presence a ghostly pressure against my back. As I neared the branch, I gathered all the strength left in my legs, preparing for the jump.
With a guttural cry that mingled fear and determination, I leaped towards the branch just as the wolves made their final, fatal lunge. I felt the graze of teeth against the fabric of my jeans, a brief, terrifying tug that threatened to pull me back into their grasp. But the material gave way, tearing with a sound that echoed my pounding heart, as I clung desperately to the branch with one arm.
Dangling precariously, I kicked wildly, trying to elevate myself enough to swing up and over. The wolves snapped and barked below me, their frustration palpable as they paced back and forth, unable to reach their prey now hanging just out of reach. My muscles screamed in protest, but the fear of falling back into their midst spurred me on, every ounce of panic transformed into a fierce determination to live through this.
Once I had a firm grip on the branch, I paused briefly, gathering my resolve before lifting the trembling bunny from my grasp. With a gentle nudge, I encouraged it onto the branch. The bunny seemed to understand the gravity of the situation, its tiny paws skittering across the rough bark to find refuge further along. Relieved that it was now safe, I could focus on pulling myself up.
Using every ounce of strength left in me, I gripped the branch tighter and hoisted myself up. My arms burned with the effort, and I could feel beads of sweat rolling down my temple, mixing with the grime on my face. After a grueling moment, I managed to swing my leg over the branch, securing my position. Exhausted, I leaned back against the sturdy trunk, the coarse bark pressing uncomfortably into my back. My breathing was heavy, labored, as I tried to steady my racing heart and slow the adrenaline pumping wildly through my veins.
The little bunny, perhaps sensing that the immediate danger had passed, hopped cautiously back towards me. It nestled into my lap, its small body warm against the chill that was beginning to seep through my clothes. I couldn’t resist a weary smile as I gently stroked its soft fur with two fingers, finding a moment of peace in the simple act. The bunny's presence was soothing, a small beacon of innocence and trust amidst the chaos.
As I sat there, my back against the tree, I surveyed the ground below. The wolves paced restlessly, their eyes glinting up at me with a mixture of frustration and hunger. It was clear I wouldn’t be going anywhere soon. With the wolves lurking below, waiting for me to make a move, I allowed my thoughts to drift to Gaby and Nathan. Were they safe in the block, unaware of the danger I was in? My heart ached with worry for them. Closing my eyes, I tried to conjure up the image of their faces, using the thought of their safety as a small anchor in the storm of my fears, hoping against hope that they were alright.
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Gaby leaned wearily against the balcony railing, her eyes fixated on the path where Mia had disappeared hours earlier. She remained there, immobile, her gaze tired but hopeful as she scanned the distance for any sign of Mia returning. Each minute that passed stretched her anxiety taut, the hope of seeing Mia emerge from the trail with her duffle bag, hopefully laden with supplies, kept her rooted to the spot. Gaby's concern wasn't about what Mia might bring back—if she came back empty-handed, Gaby wouldn't care. Her only real concern was Mia's safety; everything else was secondary.
In her hands, she unconsciously gripped the Glock 18 that Mia had sneakily left behind for protection—a gesture Gaby appreciated more than she could express. She was familiar with the weapon; it was a standard issue in the British armed forces and many other countries, loaded with 9×19mm Parabellum bullets. Her knowledge of firearms came from Jaden, a dishonorably discharged SAS veteran whose past was shrouded in mystery. Gaby had known him for years, yet he had always been reticent about the reasons behind his discharge. Despite his silence on personal matters, Jaden had shared countless stories of his adventures and the lessons he'd learned. To Gaby and those who knew him, Jaden was more than just a former soldier; he was a mentor, a provider of survival wisdom and tactical guidance.
As Gaby stood watching, the weight of the Glock in her hands was a somber reminder of their reality—an assurance and a burden all at once. She glanced down at the firearm, contemplating its necessity in their new, unpredictable life. The irony of feeling safer with such a deadly tool was not lost on her. With each passing moment, her anxiety deepened, mixed with a silent prayer that the skills and lessons imparted by Jaden would be enough to ensure Mia’s safe return.
Gaby remembered that Jaden and Mia were close, Jaden teaching her everything he knew from survival skills to life lessons and fighting techniques. With Mia’s street knowledge combined with Jaden’s mentorship, he had nicknamed her the "Black Fox," symbolizing her adaptability and cunning. It was a nickname that made a lot of sense now, considering Mia’s ability to navigate through life’s challenges.
That's one of the reasons Gaby reached out to Mia that night—she knew Mia could survive anything, and their past relationship allowed Gaby to find a place in Mia’s circle. Gaby would forever be grateful to Mia for taking her in. Over the past few days, their relationship had grown into something special. If Gaby were honest, she’d admit she had harboured feelings for Mia for a long time, always wanting more but never knowing how to express them.
As Gaby stood on the balcony, memories of their recent closeness filled her with hope and warmth. She hoped Mia understood her feelings through their shared moments. Despite the fear and uncertainty of their new surroundings, Gaby felt a deep sense of happiness knowing she was with Mia. The thought of Mia’s survival instincts and the skills Jaden had taught her gave Gaby a shred of confidence amidst the chaos.
Suddenly, Nathan’s voice broke through Gaby's thoughts like a splash of cold water. She turned swiftly, her heart skipping a beat, to see Nathan standing in the doorway of the apartment. His young face looked up at her, a mix of innocence and concern in his wide eyes, the faint sunlight casting soft shadows across his features.
"I'm hungry," he said, his voice a quiet reminder of their mundane, yet essential needs in this strange new world.
Gaby managed a smile, pushing her worries aside with effort. "Alright, let's get you something to eat," she replied, her voice gentle but steady, masking the turmoil inside her. She led him into the small, cluttered kitchen, the familiar, comforting space grounding her as she moved. The process of making noodles was simple but methodical, the act of preparing food a small, controlled routine in an otherwise unpredictable world.
As the water boiled and the noodles cooked, Gaby found herself focusing on the small details—the way the steam curled up from the pot, the rhythmic bubbling of the water, the sizzle as the noodles softened, and the subtle scent of seasoning wafting through the air. It was a welcome distraction, a momentary escape from the gnawing anxiety that had been her constant companion since Mia left.
Once the noodles were ready, she handed Nathan a steaming bowl, guiding him to the living room. They settled in, Nathan on the couch and Gaby in the armchair beside him. The silence between them was thick, punctuated only by the occasional clink of a spoon against the bowl. The room felt heavy with unspoken worries and fears, the kind that couldn't easily be put into words but weighed down on both of them nonetheless.
After a few minutes, Nathan broke the silence, his voice hesitant and small. "Why did you and Mia fight last night?" He looked up at Gaby, his eyes wide with curiosity and concern, the flickering light from the TV reflecting in his innocent gaze. The question hung in the air, a delicate thread connecting their shared anxieties.
Gaby sighed, setting her bowl aside with a soft clatter. She met Nathan's gaze, trying to find the right words to explain the complexities of her emotions to a child. "I didn't want Mia to go out there," she began, her voice soft but earnest. "It's dangerous, and I don't want anything to happen to her."
Nathan nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful as he processed her words. "I'm worried too," he admitted, his voice small and tremulous. "The wolves... they're really scary." His eyes mirrored the fear that Gaby herself felt, a raw, honest admission that broke her heart.
Gaby's heart ached at his admission. She reached out, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, feeling the small bones beneath her fingers, the warmth of his skin a fragile anchor. "I know, Nathan. They scare me too," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. The shadows seemed to gather around them, amplifying the stillness of the room and the weight of their fears.
Nathan looked up at her, his eyes full of an innocent certainty that was both heartwarming and heartbreaking. "But Mia always comes back," he said with quiet conviction. "She always comes back, no matter what." The trust and faith in his voice were unshakable, a beacon of hope in the darkness.
Gaby smiled, her eyes misting with a mixture of relief and sadness. "Yes, she does," she agreed softly. "She always comes back." Her voice was laced with a bittersweet note, the weight of their current situation pressing down on her shoulders. The reality of their predicament was never far away, and the memory of the wolves' howls echoed in the back of her mind, a chilling reminder of the dangers that lurked just beyond their door.
They lapsed into silence again, but this time it was a more comfortable one. Nathan's faith in Mia was unshakeable, and it lent Gaby a small measure of hope. She watched him eat, the normalcy of the act a stark contrast to the chaos outside. The gentle slurping sounds of Nathan eating his noodles were a reminder of simpler times, when their biggest worry was what to have for dinner.
The room was filled with the faint hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of the building settling. For a moment, Gaby allowed herself to imagine a world where they were safe, where the biggest challenge was getting Nathan to finish his homework. But reality was never far away, and the memory of the wolves' howls echoed in the back of her mind, a chilling reminder of the dangers that lurked just beyond their door.
For now, they were safe, and that was enough. Gaby sat back in her chair, watching Nathan with a protective gaze, her thoughts never straying far from Mia. The bond between them, forged in adversity and strengthened by trust, was a small comfort in these uncertain times. And as long as they had each other, they could face whatever came their way.
When Nathan finished his noodles, he handed his bowl to Gaby with a grateful smile. Gaby took it, and headed towards the sink a few steps away, feeling a sudden surge of warmth towards the boy.
But suddenly, she stopped in place.
A wave of dizziness washed over her. The room seemed to spin, her vision blurring as she staggered slightly, her grip on the bowls faltering.
Confusion clouded her mind, her thoughts scattering as she struggled to focus on the simple task of reaching the sink. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, racing at an alarming rate that only added to her growing panic. The fever that had been a mild annoyance earlier spiked suddenly, heat flushing her skin as chilling tremors ran down her spine.
The pain in her arm, where the wolf had bitten her, throbbed intensely, a stark reminder of the injury that she had tried to downplay. The area around the wound was swollen, the skin stretched tight and hot to the touch from under the dressing, signalling something far more sinister than a simple injury.
As she leaned against the counter for support, her blood pressure plummeted, the kitchen seeming to tilt on its axis. The pain, now radiating up her arm, was almost unbearable, each heartbeat sending a new wave of agony through her body. Her breaths came in short, rapid gasps, the effort of standing becoming too much to bear.
With a final, desperate attempt to call out for help, Gaby's voice caught in her throat. Her strength gave out completely, and she collapsed to the floor, the bowls slipping from her grasp to shatter loudly against the tile. The sound of breaking ceramic echoed in the quiet apartment as she hit the ground, unconscious, the severity of her condition finally overtaking her.
Nathan spun around at the noise, his eyes wide with fear as he saw Gaby lying motionless on the floor. He rushed to her side, his small hands shaking as he tried to wake her up. "Gaby! Gaby, wake up!" he cried, his voice trembling with panic. But Gaby didn't respond, her body limp and unresponsive.
Nathan looked around desperately, his mind racing. He needed help. He needed Mia.
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I jerked awake with my heart thumping wildly in my chest, sweat clinging to my forehead from some godawful nightmare. “Bloody hell,” I muttered under my breath, my voice rough with sleep and irritation. The nightmare had felt so damn real, too bloody real if you ask me. Sighing, I straightened up and felt the familiar ache in my back from slouching against the rough bark of the tree.
Looking down, I noticed the bunny still dozing peacefully on my lap, oblivious to the chaos that nearly unfolded while we were napping. Its small chest rose and fell with each breath, a stark contrast to my own rapid breathing. I gently stroked its soft fur, trying to calm myself down. Noticing how the sun had shifted, I figured I must've been out for an hour or two, a careless mistake in such a dangerous place. How could I have been so stupid to fall asleep?
My eyes then caught sight of something alarming—claw marks etched deeply into the tree trunk, dangerously close to where I had been snoozing. “Those bloody wolves,” I cursed softly, realizing they had been trying to reach me even in my sleep. It was a stupid move to let my guard down, even out of sheer exhaustion. How could I have let this happen? I should have known better. In this world, there’s no room for mistakes, no room for weakness.
Glancing down at the wolves, I could see the animosity in their unnatural, glowing eyes as they stared up at me. They looked ready to tear me apart if given the chance. Studying them, I noted the significant differences between the two. One was clearly younger, scrawnier, probably inexperienced but keen. The other was the alpha of the two, bulkier, with a body marred by battle scars—a testament to its survival in numerous fights. The alpha's scars were deep and numerous, telling stories of battles it had fought and won. These were not ordinary creatures; they were predators, and I was their prey.
I couldn't help but think how handy a gun would be right now. A couple of well-placed shots could end this standoff clean and quick. But there I was, up a tree, armed with nothing but a knife and my wits. Why did I leave the gun with Gaby? She needed it more, I reasoned, but now I was regretting that decision. The weight of my knife seemed inadequate against the threat below.
Realizing that nothing but a fight would solve this, I carefully shifted the rabbit onto a safer part of the branch. It blinked awake, confused but safe for the moment. With the bunny secure, I was free to focus on the more pressing threat. The little creature looked up at me with innocent eyes, and for a moment, I envied its ignorance.
Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself for what was to come. "Alright, Mia, you can handle this," I whispered to myself, mentally preparing to take on the wooden beasts below. I ran through my options, weighing the pros and cons of each. Running was out of the question; they were faster. Fighting seemed like the only viable option, but how?
With the knife gripped tightly in one hand, I started formulating a plan. The weight of it was comforting, a small assurance in an otherwise dire situation. I needed to get down from the tree, but not without a strategy. Maybe if I could distract them or find a way to separate them...
It was me or them, and I wasn't about to let these wooden bastards get the better of me. Not today. I glanced at the bunny one last time, its tiny nose twitching as it settled down on the branch. "Stay put, little one. I’m about to do something stupid." I whispered. With that, I took a deep breath and prepared myself to face the wolves, hoping that my next move wouldn't be my last.
The wolves, utterly blindsided by my sudden descent, barely had time to register my presence before I was airborne. As I leapt from the branch, my body twisted in a deliberate arc, and I thrust both feet forward, targeting the younger wolf’s muzzle. The connection was immediate and brutal; a resounding crack echoed as its wooden structure buckled under the force of my kick.
Landing awkwardly, my back took the brunt of the impact against the rough, uneven ground, knocking the breath from my lungs. Dirt clung to my skin, gritty and invasive, as I gasped for air in sharp, ragged pulls.
The larger wolf paused, its animalistic brain calculating the threat of my unexpected assault. Its partner, the one I’d struck, emitted a low, pained whimper, the sound almost pitiful. Thick, golden sap seeped from the splintered wood of its muzzle, glistening in the sunlight like slow-moving amber. It shook its head in a futile attempt to rid itself of the pain that I had inflicted.
Using the brief respite to my advantage, I forced myself up from the earth, every muscle screaming in protest. My hand tightened around the handle of my kitchen knife, the familiar weight of it grounding me as I prepared for whatever came next. Adrenaline surged through my veins, sharpening my senses, as I faced the looming threat of the larger wolf, now circling back with renewed focus, its eyes glowing with a mix of rage and wariness.
As the larger wolf darted back into the underbrush, its unexpected agility took me off guard. I barely managed to regain my balance, my breath quickening with a mix of adrenaline and frustration. For a moment, the woods fell silent, the only sound my own ragged breathing and the distant rustle of leaves. My grip on the knife tightened, knuckles whitening as I scanned the treeline for any sign of movement.
Then, just as quickly as it had vanished, the wolf reappeared down the path. Its eyes, glinting with a malevolent intelligence, fixed on me unblinkingly as it crossed from one side to the other. The calculated motion felt almost like a taunt, a challenge. It snarled menacingly, its wooden teeth clicking together in a chilling echo.
I took a tentative step forward, testing its reaction. True to form, the wolf mirrored my movements with precision, maintaining the distance between us as if tethered by some unseen force. Its behavior was unnerving, almost as if it were trying to bait me into making a move, or perhaps it was stalling for something else—backup, maybe?
"What are you waiting for?" I muttered under my breath, my mind racing as I tried to anticipate its next move. The standoff continued, with each of us circling the other, the tension building like a pre-storm pressure in the air. I knew I couldn't let my guard down for even a second; this creature was cunning and dangerous, and I had to be ready for whatever it planned next.
The sensation was sudden and fierce, a piercing pain as the scrawny wolf’s jagged teeth clamped down on my left shoulder. Its abrupt assault threw me off balance, and I found myself buckling under the unexpected weight, my knee hitting the hard-packed earth with a dull thud. The wolf’s teeth, like splinters of wood, tore through the fabric of my clothing and sank deep into my flesh. As it violently shook its head, tugging at the wound, a raw, searing pain radiated outward, and a strangled cry of agony escaped my lips.
Momentarily stunned by the pain, my attention faltered from the looming threat ahead. The larger wolf, seizing the opportunity, began its charge with a renewed ferocity that suggested it wouldn’t veer off this time. My heart pounded in my ears as I realized my knife lay just out of reach, dropped in the chaos of the initial attack. Frantically, I assessed my options; there was no time to retrieve the blade without exposing myself further to the oncoming assault.
The larger wolf crouched, its muscular body tensing as it prepared to pounce, its piercing green eyes locked not on my face but lower, targeting my midsection. I knew then that dodging would be futile; it had measured its attack carefully, and my window to react was rapidly closing. Desperation surged through me as I prepared to confront the inevitable strike, my mind racing for any possible way to defend myself without my knife.
As the larger wolf lunged, its jaws gaping ominously, my survival instincts kicked in full throttle. With no time to think and the pain in my shoulder searing through me, I thrust my left arm up defensively, intercepting the beast’s path to my throat. Its teeth clamped down hard on my wrist, the sheer force of its leap threatening to overpower me completely. Suddenly, I was face to face with the creature, its eyes a fierce maelstrom of wild fury.
The wolf’s claws, sharp as daggers, raked across my torso, shredding through the layers of my clothing and into my skin. The initial shock of cold air hitting the fresh wounds was quickly replaced by an intense, burning pain as blood began to stream down, staining my clothes in a vivid, alarming crimson. The metallic scent of my own blood mingled with the musty odor of the beast, a stark reminder of the brutal reality of my situation. Each scratch, each bite, was a battle for survival, fought inches from my face against an adversary driven by nothing but raw, untamed aggression.
The world seemed to tilt as a splitting headache erupted like a volcano in my skull, blurring my vision with searing pain. I could barely register the growing ferocity in the larger wolf’s attack as it tore savagely into my arm, each pull sending jolts of excruciating agony that radiated up to my shoulder and across my back.
Above the chaos, the bulky wolf’s claws was ominously poised in the air. I watched, frozen in a mix of fear and disbelief, as it descended with cruel precision onto my brow. The claw sliced through the skin, a hot, sharp pain that split my forehead open. My own screams momentarily overwhelmed the growling of the wolves, a primal sound that seemed to echo through the dense woods.
The wolf’s claws, now deeply embedded into my chest, began to pull with a relentless force. The pain intensified, spreading like wildfire through my limbs, igniting new centres of pain with every tug. My left arm, already throbbing and weak, felt as if it were being torn from its socket. I was slipping; my vision was reducing to a mere pinprick of light, the edges darkening as if night were falling within me.
This couldn’t be how it ended, not here, not in the jaws of a beast. With what little clarity remained in my mind amid the haze of agony, I knew I had to act, to fight back with whatever strength I could muster. It wasn’t just about survival anymore—it was about refusing to let this be the final chapter of my story.
With every ounce of resolve left in me, I jerked my right hand from the grasp of the searing pain on my bleeding arm, clenching it into a fist. Gritting my teeth, I swung with all my might, connecting solidly with the side of the larger wolf’s head. The impact sent a jarring pain through my knuckles as they scraped across the creature’s rough, wooden exterior and its jagged teeth. The force of my blows caused the wooden structure to resonate, sending vibrations up my arm.
Determined and fueled by adrenaline, I pulled back my fist and struck again. Each hit was a desperate attempt to free myself, my fist pounding against its temple with a sickening crunch of bone meeting wood. With every strike, I felt a wild mixture of pain and grim satisfaction as the wolf’s grip loosened slightly.
Finally, with a mighty effort, I managed to land a blow that seemed to stun the creature. It recoiled, its hold on my arm slackening. Seizing the moment of respite, I lunged for my dropped knife, grasping its handle with a slippery, blood-coated grip. I thrust the blade deep into the wolf’s flank, twisting it cruelly. The beast let out a piercing yelp, the sound almost doggish in its agony.
As I wrenched the knife out, the wolf staggered and collapsed onto the dirt path, its wooden body thudding heavily. Almost immediately, the pain intensified on my shoulder as the second wolf, driven by rage or fear, sank its teeth even deeper. I could feel the sharp splinters piercing through muscle, threatening to tear flesh from bone.
Acting on instinct, I flung the knife over my shoulder in a blind, desperate arc aimed at the head of the second attacker. The blade’s handle thudded against my shoulder as the wolf’s teeth dug in excruciatingly, eliciting a sharp gasp of pain from me. But then, a brief, tense moment later, the wolf’s body slackened. Its once ferocious grip eased, and its dead weight pulled at my wounded shoulder, signifying the end of its assault. I slumped to the ground, panting heavily, surrounded by the still forms of my vanquished foes, overwhelmed by both victory and the throbbing pain of my injuries.
A searing pain suddenly ripped through my right calf, yanking me back with such force that my forward momentum came to an abrupt halt. I hit the ground hard, the impact sending a jolt of pain through my body. Twisting around, I caught sight of the culprit—the larger wolf, not yet defeated, its wooden body slick with the sticky gold of its own sap leaking from the wound I had inflicted.
Exhaling a mixture of frustration and raw anger, I faced the relentless creature. Its sharp, splintered teeth were deeply embedded in the muscle of my right leg, the grip firm and unyielding. Determined to free myself, I gathered all the strength left in me and kicked back viciously with my left leg, aiming directly between its glaring, soulless eyes.
The impact of my heel against its hard, wooden skull sent a shock of pain reverberating through my leg, even as the wolf’s teeth sank deeper into my flesh in retaliation. I grimaced, fighting through the pain, feeling the warm trickle of blood running down my leg as I struggled against the beast’s unrelenting hold.
“Dammit, let go!” I snarled, my voice rough with exertion and pain, each word punctuated by a forceful stomp. “Let go! Let go! Let go! Let go!”
With one final, desperate kick, the wolf’s head gave way under the brute force. As the structure of its skull collapsed, my foot plunged through the shattered wood, becoming momentarily stuck in the wreckage. Sticky, golden sap oozed into my shoe, mingling unpleasantly with the sweat and blood. Every muscle in my body screamed for reprieve, exhaustion clawing at my limbs, threatening to drag me down into unconsciousness.
But as the forest fell silent, save for the labored heaving of my own breaths, a small, grim smile tugged at the corner of my lips. Despite the searing pain and the overwhelming fatigue, I had survived the encounter. In the eerie quiet that followed, not even the distant rustle of wildlife dared to pierce the momentary peace. And in that heavy silence, battered and bloodied, I found a fleeting sense of victory.
There I was, sprawled across the dirt, my clothes soaked with blood that stuck to my skin, matting my hair and painting gruesome streaks down my face and body. Each breath was a sharp stab of pain, and the coppery taste of blood in my mouth was nauseating. The injuries were extensive: my left shoulder throbbed where the beast’s teeth had torn through flesh; my arm was a tableau of bruises and punctures; my torso felt as if it had been raked over coals; and my calf pulsed with a deep, relentless ache from the wolf’s bite.
Above all, the gash from my brow down my cheek burned fiercely, blurring my vision and sending shockwaves of pain every time I dared to blink. Blood dripped relentlessly into my eye, forcing me to keep it shut and navigate my misery through the haze of just one good eye.
As I lay there, the world seemed to tilt on its axis, a disorienting spiral into darkness. The stark realization hit me—I was incredibly lucky to be alive. Those monstrous timberwolves could have easily ended me, turned me into nothing more than a forgotten stain beneath the forest canopy. It was luck, sheer, bloody luck that I’d managed to fend them off. The relief was palpable, yet it was tinged with the terror of knowing how close I had come to not making it out. Every labored breath was a reminder of my mortality, a painful acknowledgment that survival here was measured in moments, not guarantees.
Lying there on the ground, every fiber of my being pulsating with agony, I nearly jumped out of my skin at the unexpected voice. “Not gonna lie, Mia. I thought you were done for a second there. I knew you could pull it off.” That voice… it couldn’t be. But as I squinted upwards, the world still spinning, Jordan’s face came into focus—smirking, upside down from my prone perspective, munching on one of my chocolate bars with infuriating casualness.
His presence, with my duffle bag nonchalantly slung over his shoulder, sparked a mix of irritation and disbelief in me. Here he was, appearing out of nowhere, looking down at me with that all-too-familiar look of indifference. It was just like him to show up after the danger had passed, acting as if he had expected my survival all along, as if he hadn’t doubted for a second that I’d manage to beat those creatures. The absurdity of the situation, his audacity to just stand there, eating my food while I lay bleeding and broken on the forest floor, almost made me want to laugh—if it didn’t hurt so much to even breathe.
~Chapter end~
Chapter 7 - First Encounter.
“Trust takes years to build, seconds to break, and forever to repair.”
The uneven ground beneath my feet sent jolts of pain through my leg with each step, but it was Jordan’s casual stride ahead of me that stoked a sharper sting—anger. Blood trailed from my wounds, spattering the dusty path, while the faint rustle of leaves whispered around us. My chin dripped steadily, blood mingling with sweat, each drop a stark reminder of the ordeal I had just survived. Clutching the sap-stained knife in one hand and the bunny in the other, I limped forward, my eyes never straying far from Jordan's back.
He seemed almost too comfortable out here, his steps too sure, too eager for someone who had been holed up just because he was ‘bored’. The ease with which he moved through the forest was suspicious, his reason for being here not sitting right with me at all. He claimed he needed fresh air, but the woods were not kind to the unprepared, and Jordan, with only my duffle bag slung carelessly over his shoulder, seemed far too prepared.
Every now and then, his head would turn slightly, checking if I was still behind him but never stopping, never coming back to offer help. It made my blood boil. Here I was, battered and bleeding, and there he was, sauntering ahead as if on a leisurely stroll. Could he have followed me from the start? Was he watching me struggle against those wooden beasts, waiting to see if I’d survive?
His indifference when I was fighting for my life was almost as painful as the wounds themselves. What was his game? Was this trek through the woods his idea of keeping tabs on me, or was there something else, something hidden he was after? I couldn’t trust him, not with his murky past and even murkier intentions. As we continued, the silence between us stretched, filled only with the sounds of nature and my labored breathing. I kept my suspicions to myself, my gaze sharp and wary. Jordan was an enigma, and I had no intention of letting my guard down.
As I trudged alongside the tranquil river bay, the serene beauty of the surroundings seemed cruelly at odds with the violence that had just unfolded. The river, strikingly clear, flowed beside the path, its waters glinting under the midday sun like liquid crystal. I found myself captivated by the visibility of the aquatic life below the surface; fish darted about with an effortless grace, untouched by the chaos of the world above. The clarity of the water beckoned, raising the tempting question of its drinkability—so pristine it appeared, free from the usual taint of human negligence.
My thoughts drifted to the fishing rod I had scavenged from one of the block's flats, previously overlooked as just another item in a cache of forgotten belongings. Its significance dawned on me now, not just as a tool but as a potential lifeline. Nathan’s dislike for fish echoed in my memory, but the harsh reality of our situation meant preferences were a luxury we could ill afford. Survival hinged on adaptability, and the river's bounty could no longer be ignored. Needs must when the devil drives, as Jaden would say.
In my blood-stained left hand, the small bunny I had saved offered a slight distraction from the throbbing pain of my wounds. I had yet to name the creature, unsure of its gender and reluctant to impose an identity just yet. It seemed fitting that Nathan should have that honor; he had longed for a pet, a wish I had always dismissed back in our old life—too costly, too impractical, I would argue. But now, in this strange and brutal new world, the rules had changed.
Holding the bunny gently, I considered its potential as more than just a comfort to Nathan. Perhaps it could serve as a crucial emotional anchor for him, a responsibility to nurture amidst the uncertainty. It was a small, possibly naive hope that caring for this little rabbit could instill in him a sense of normalcy, a connection to the simple acts of caring that defined humanity at its best. This tiny creature, so fragile and yet so resilient, might just help us all hold onto a sliver of sanity. I resolved to make it a new member of our makeshift family, a symbol of life’s persistence. As the path unwound before me, flanked by the whispering river, I steeled myself for the challenges ahead, the weight of the bunny in my grasp a reminder of the delicate balance between survival and compassion.
As I limped along, my mind inevitably drifted back to Gaby and the grievous wound she suffered from one of those accursed wooden wolves. The image of her, trying to mask her pain with a forced smile, played over in my mind, haunting me with every step. Gaby, always the tough one, had been enduring that bite with a stoicism that now, in light of my own searing pain, seemed all the more remarkable.
I remembered how she moved around the flat, her right arm hanging uselessly by her side, yet still she insisted on trying to help—washing dishes with one hand, struggling to keep our living space tidy, even attempting to make beds single-handedly. At the time, I'd protested, but she'd brushed off my concerns with a stubborn shake of her head, insisting she was fine. It didn’t sit right with me then; it felt wrong to let her labor in such a condition, but I let her independence rule the day. Now, feeling each pulse of agony from my own wounds, I realized just how much pain she must have been hiding beneath her brave facade.
The guilt gnawed at me, sharper than the throb in my shoulder. I scolded myself for every time I let her lift a finger when she should have been resting. She was hurting, deeply so, and yet I had allowed her to push herself because she wanted to feel useful, to not feel like a burden. But what good was pride if it led to further suffering? I should've been more insistent, should've taken better care of her as she had always done for me in our darker days.
With each step, my resolve hardened; I needed to make it right. Once I got back, I’d make sure Gaby got the rest she deserved, no matter how much she argued. No more stoic suffering, not on my watch. I owed her that much, for all the times she’d stood by me without a complaint, her loyalty never wavering even when faced with her own pain.
As we trudged along the increasingly rough terrain beside the river, Jordan cast a glance over his shoulder, his tone dripping with irritation. "Hurry up, will you?" he snapped, his impatience clear as day.
Inside, I seethed at his callousness, my gaze fixed on the back of his shaved head. "Yeah, hurry up," I mimicked under my breath, my words laced with venom. "Easy for you to say, you weren't the one wrestling with a pair of wooden beasts." The urge to hurl more than just insults at his smug demeanor was strong, but I clenched my teeth and focused on putting one foot in front of the other.
The pain from my wounds pulsed with each step, a stark reminder of the ordeal I'd just survived. His lack of empathy, his complete disregard for the struggle I’d endured, it all just fueled a growing resentment inside me. "Sod off, you bald prat," I muttered, not loud enough for him to hear but just enough to vent some of my frustration.
As he turned back around, oblivious to my struggle, I couldn't help but snarl silently, cursing not just his attitude but the day he decided to follow me. His presence, far from being reassuring, was just another weight on a day already heavy with pain and challenge.
Suddenly, a sinister whisper of a thought slithered into my consciousness, unbidden and as dark as the shadowed underbrush we skirted around. The idea of killing him—again. It wasn’t the first time the notion had crept into my mind; it reserved itself for those I truly despised, and Jordan had long secured his place on that list.
He was right there, just a few strides ahead, blissfully unaware, his back an easy target. It would be so simple, a quick, firm stab right into his spine, maybe paralyze him—leave him as bait for those wooden wolves. The thought sent a shiver down my spine, not from fear, but from the cold realization of how easy it was to contemplate.
But as swiftly as it came, I shoved the thought aside. It wasn’t just about morality; it was about survival. I was in no condition to fight, let alone drag his likely thrashing body around if he didn’t go down quietly. And despite everything, he might still be useful. Jordan, as loathsome as he was, could still serve a purpose.
However, I couldn’t help but make a mental note, a grim promise to myself. If it came down to it, if Jordan turned on me or threatened my makeshift family in any way, I wouldn’t hesitate. I’d bury my knife in his chest, and this time, I’d make sure it stuck. For now, I kept that dark assurance tucked away, a cold comfort against the pain that racked my body.
As the ground rushed up to meet me, the sharp pain in my calf intensified, sending a jarring shock through my body as I hit the dirt. Cradling the terrified bunny against my chest, I curled instinctively to shield it from the impact, my other hand flailing out toward my fallen knife. The blade lay tantalizingly close, glinting under the muted sunlight that filtered through the overhead trees.
Just as my fingers grazed the cold metal, I felt the sudden, crushing weight of Jordan’s boot on my hand. The pressure was sharp and deliberate, pinning me helplessly to the earth. I gritted my teeth against the pain, a muffled grunt escaping as I tried to retract my hand, only for Jordan to press down harder, his face expressionless but his eyes cold and calculating.
With a disdainful snort, he finally lifted his foot, stooping to pick up my knife with a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll hang onto this for now,” he said nonchalantly, the edge in his voice cutting deeper than the blade he now possessed. Turning on his heel, he continued down the path, leaving me to gather my wits and the remnants of my dignity.
Shakily, I pulled myself to a standing position, cradling my throbbing hand against my chest. The pain was a sharp reminder of just how precarious my situation had become. With my primary weapon now in Jordan’s hands, I felt a surge of vulnerability wash over me. An armed Jordan was indeed a more formidable and dangerous adversary, and I couldn't help but curse myself for not being more cautious.
A pang of regret shot through me as I remembered the hunting knife I had cleverly hidden in my hoodie—the same hoodie that had been ripped off by one of those wooden wolves earlier. The realization that I was now truly unarmed made my stomach churn. I had always prided myself on being prepared, a lesson drilled into me by Jaden, my mentor. But here I was, exposed and weaponless, with only my wits to rely on.
Grimly, I steadied myself, my mind racing through potential strategies to regain control. "Shit," I whispered into the silence, the word hanging heavy in the air. Every nerve was on edge, aware that the path ahead was fraught with dangers I was now even less equipped to face.
After what felt like an endless trek, our surroundings began to subtly change. The dense, threatening forest gradually opened up to a more serene landscape, marked by the soothing sounds of the river flowing more vigorously as we approached a quaint cobblestone bridge. This bridge, with its weathered stones and mossy edges, arched gracefully over the sparkling waters, leading directly to a picturesque cottage on the other side. The bridge itself was a testament to skilled craftsmanship, each stone meticulously placed, suggesting it had stood the test of time. As we crossed, the sound of the water rushing beneath seemed to wash away the oppressive silence that had accompanied our journey.
The cottage itself seemed to have sprung from the pages of a storybook, with its thatched roof and walls covered in climbing ivy and blooming wildflowers. It was nestled snugly against the backdrop of a lush, flowering meadow, vibrant with the buzz of bees and the flutter of butterflies. Birdsong filled the air, creating a melody that contrasted sharply with the tense silence between Jordan and me.
Tall trees, their leaves whispering secrets to the breeze, framed the cottage, casting dappled shadows on the ground. Nearby, a small vegetable garden was meticulously tended, rows of greens and other colourful plants thriving under the care of an unseen hand. It was a scene of idyllic peace, a stark contrast to the dark foreboding of the woods we had just traversed. On the other side, the open door of the cottage beckoned invitingly, though a part of me remained on guard, wary of what—or who—might be waiting within or around this seemingly tranquil refuge.
As we neared the open doorway of the cottage, a figure emerged that stopped us both dead in our tracks. It was an anthropomorphic creature, a perfect blend of human and equine features, adorned in a light summer dress that swayed gently in the breeze. The dress was a soft yellow, complementing her pale yellow coat beautifully. Atop her head sat a panama hat, shading her kind, expressive eyes from the sun.
With a graceful flutter of her wings, she floated towards the bird boxes mounted near the eaves of the cottage roof. Her movements were serene, almost balletic, as she delicately scooped seeds from a pouch slung across her shoulder, distributing them to the chirping birds that eagerly awaited their meal. Her presence was soothing, an embodiment of tranquility and warmth.
As she tended to the birds, my mind raced, piecing together her appearance with the fragmented knowledge I had about this world. She had the delicate muzzle and wings of what I could only identify as a pegasus, a creature straight out of the tales Discord had spilled in those frenzied moments. I remembered him mentioning Equestria, a realm ruled by such beings, but never had I imagined they would be so... human-like in their posture and activities. The realization that we were indeed not on Earth anymore sunk deeper, mingling with awe and an inescapable trepidation about what this meant for us.
As I observed, the scene unfolding before me was like something out of a serene storybook. The pegasus, with her gentle movements and soft-spoken demeanor, seemed to communicate with the wildlife around her on an almost magical level. Rabbits hopped confidently near her feet, birds swooped and fluttered eagerly about her head as if they were playing a game only they knew the rules to, and even the squirrels paused in their scurrying to watch her with bright, curious eyes.
Her interactions with the animals were tender and nurturing, each gesture filled with a patience and care that seemed to transcend the usual bounds of nature. It was a kindness so profound and pure, it reminded me of the unblemished innocence you’d expect in children’s tales, not the harsh reality I had grown accustomed to. Watching her, a pang of something like longing stirred in me—a wish for the simplicity and peace that her presence commanded. It was a stark contrast to the world I knew, where trust was a currency few could afford and innocence was often the first casualty.
In an unexpected flash, the bunny wriggled free from my cautious grip and bounded energetically away. Its tiny legs carried it swiftly over the cobblestone bridge towards the pegasus, who was serenely tending to the birds. The bunny's exuberant hops seemed to be a desperate attempt to catch the attention of the gentle creature. I observed, puzzled and a bit amused, her thoughts swirling with curiosity about the possible prior acquaintance between the bunny and the pegasus.
The pegasus paused her bird feeding. She bent down gracefully, her wings subtly adjusting to maintain balance as she attentively turned towards the animated bunny. It was almost as if she was listening intently to an urgent message the little creature was trying to convey.
Suddenly, the bunny turned around and, with a dramatic gesture that seemed almost human, pointed a tiny paw directly towards my hiding spot behind a bush. My heart thumped loudly in her chest as her only visible eye widened in surprise. Caught off guard, she peered through the leaves, my gaze meeting the pegasus's. There was a moment of silent communication, a mix of astonishment and curiosity in the pegasus's eyes, as they locked onto my concealed figure. The serene environment around them seemed to pause, waiting for my next move.
I hastily yanked my snood over my face, trying to mask my identity and the visible signs of my recent ordeals. My mind raced with the potential danger of this encounter—I was a stranger here, an outsider, and my appearance alone could provoke fear or hostility, especially covered in blood and accompanied by the unpredictable Jordan.
Despite the risks, I recognised the practicality of engaging with the pegasus. My wounds were severe, and the idea of trekking back to the block without treatment was daunting. There was no guarantee I wouldn't encounter more of those wooden wolves or something worse. I couldn’t afford another confrontation in my current state.
Besides, this pegasus seemed connected to the wildlife and possibly the land itself. She might have valuable knowledge about nearby settlements, resources, or even medicinal herbs that could prove crucial. If I could gain her trust, perhaps she could secure some assistance for herself and my friends back at the block. This was a calculated risk, but one I felt compelled to take given my dwindling options.
Jordan was mumbling under his breath, clearly pissed off as he stared at the winged creature on the other side of the bridge. “What the fuck is that?” he spat out, barely keeping his voice down. His annoyance morphed into a twisted smirk as a thought struck him. “Doesn’t bloody matter, does it?” he sneered, more to himself than to me, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “Looks like easy prey.”
He emerged from his bushy hideout and strolled toward the bridge, his casual demeanour masking the threat he posed. As he crossed onto the cobblestone path, the pegasus recoiled, her eyes widening in alarm. She tried to hide behind her hat and flowing pink mane, but that only seemed to spur Jordan on.
Approaching her with that creepy grin plastered across his face, Jordan brazenly knocked off her hat and brushed aside her mane with the sharp edge of the knife, revealing her trembling form. Fear was etched deeply in her eyes, tears starting to form as she backed away.
“This is a pretty sweet setup you’ve got here,” Jordan jeered, his voice thick with menace as he leaned in uncomfortably close, the blade catching the light menacingly. “Looks like you could whip up something tasty. I’m fucking starved, so how about you get started on that, yeah?”
Before the pegasus could respond, anger boiled over in me. I couldn’t just watch Jordan terrorise someone so clearly defenceless. Grabbing Jordan’s wrist harshly, I forced the knife away from the pegasus’s face, our eyes locking in a fierce confrontation. “Cut the shit, Jordan!” I snapped, venom lacing my voice. “Back the fuck off now, or I swear, I’ll make sure you regret it.” My grip tightened on his wrist, my threat punctuated with a deadly seriousness.
Jordan’s sneer widened as he leaned closer, his words sharp and biting. "Oh, look at our brave little Mia, all bloody and pretending to be tough," he jeered. His tone was mocking, designed to provoke, as he towered over me, using his height to try and intimidate.
I stood my ground, my eyes locked on his, not flinching despite the pain that every movement sent shooting through my body. My grip on his wrist was iron-tight, a silent promise of retaliation, yet I held back, calculating.
"You really think you're something special, huh?" Jordan's voice grew louder, his breath foul as he spat the words out. "Playing the saviour for this freak," he jerked his head towards the pegasus, who was cowering, her eyes wide with fear.
The urge to throw a punch was almost irresistible, but I knew better than to lose control. "You’re nothing but a pathetic bully, Jordan," I hissed back, my voice low and menacing. "And bullies are cowards at heart. You’ll slip up soon enough, and I’ll be there."
He chuckled darkly, his gaze flicking over my injuries with a mock concern that made my skin crawl. "Sure, Mia, keep dreaming. You’re in way over your head, and you know it."
With a sudden jerk, he wrenched his wrist free from my grasp. Before I could react, he turned swiftly and barged into the pegasus with his shoulder, sending her stumbling back with a small, startled yelp. She fell clumsily to the grass, her wide eyes filled with tears as she looked up in confusion and fright.
Jordan smirked at her distress, then turned back to me with a look of disdain. "Stay out of my way, or you’ll regret it," he sneered, then strode past me, his boots crunching on the gravel path as he made his way into the cottage. The door banged shut behind him with a resounding slam that seemed to echo the turmoil inside me.
Left in the quiet aftermath, I stood there, breathing heavily, my heart racing with a mix of fury and helplessness. I glanced down at the pegasus, her soft whimpers pulling at my conscience. "I’m sorry," I murmured, not sure if I was apologising to her or to myself for not being able to stop him sooner. The anger still simmered within me, but now, mixed with a cold resolve. Jordan would pay, somehow.
I turned to the pegasus, trying to mask my exhaustion with a friendly smile. I extended my hand toward her, attempting to appear as non-threatening as possible.
But the pegasus was still terrified, her wide eyes fixed on my blood-stained clothes and the wounds that crisscrossed my body. She began to crawl away, her wings fluttering in panic, her entire frame trembling like a leaf in the wind.
I took a cautious step forward, but suddenly, pain shot through my injured calf, making me collapse onto one knee. My vision blurred, the edges darkening as the world started to spin. I tried to stay conscious, to reassure the pegasus that everything was fine, but my body was betraying me.
"Please," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "I just need... help."
The pegasus's eyes flickered with a mix of fear and concern. She hesitated, her hands inching forward slightly as she glanced between me and the brown bunny that had returned to her side. The bunny was frantically pointing at me, its little paws moving in desperate gestures as if it understood the urgency of the situation.
My strength was fading fast. I could feel the warmth of my blood seeping through my clothes, the pain in my arm and leg becoming unbearable. I swayed on my knee, fighting to keep my eyes open, but it was a losing battle.
"Help..." I managed to whisper one last time before my vision completely blacked out. The last thing I saw was the pegasus taking a hesitant step toward me, her eyes filled with a newfound determination and the brown bunny hopping frantically beside her. The world tilted, and I fell forward, sinking into unconsciousness, my body hitting the ground with a thud. Darkness enveloped me, and all I could hope was that I’d wake up somewhere safe.
|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|~|
As consciousness slowly crept back, I felt the haze lifting, though my body protested with a dull, throbbing ache. The pain was less sharp than before, more of a persistent gnawing that pervaded my senses. I tried to piece together the memories of how I ended up here, but my thoughts were foggy and fragmented.
I blinked slowly, trying to adjust to the dim lighting of the room. The soft crackling of a fire somewhere nearby provided a faint, flickering glow that cast eerie shadows across the walls. The light was coming from the next room, likely a living room, and it gave just enough illumination to see that I was lying on a wooden table. Turning my head slightly, I winced as a sharp pain shot through my neck and saw dark stains splattered across the wood—my blood.
I attempted to assess the rest of my condition and immediately noticed the heavy bandages wrapped around my left eye. A chill ran down my spine as I realized I couldn't see anything through it, the bandage tightly concealing whatever damage had been done beneath. My left shoulder, arm, calf, and torso also bore heavy bandages, stark against my skin. I was down to just my knickers and bra, my clothes presumably removed to tend to my wounds.
Lifting my head just a bit more, I surveyed the kitchen. It was in complete disarray. The refrigerator door hung open, its contents spilled out onto the floor like the aftermath of a desperate scavenger hunt. Various ingredients were strewn about, creating a chaotic mix of colors and shapes on the tiled floor. Cupboard doors were flung wide, and the mess on the floor suggested a frantic search for something—no doubt Jordan’s handiwork. I could not suppress the surge of anger at the thought of him rummaging through this place, driven by selfish hunger or greed.
I glanced towards a window and saw that it was dark outside. The inky blackness pressed against the glass, interrupted only by the occasional glimmer of moonlight filtering through the trees. The realization that it was night added another layer of urgency to my situation. Where was Jordan now? And the pegasus—the last fuzzy image before blacking out was of her approaching figure. Had she managed to drag me here? The thought of that gentle creature seeing me so broken, so utterly human, was both comforting and unnerving.
The flickering light from the fireplace in the living room seemed to be my next destination. Steadying myself, I swung my legs off the table, pausing as dizziness threatened to overwhelm me. Taking deep, measured breaths, I focused on the warmth emanating from the other room, letting it anchor me to the present moment. Once the room stopped spinning, I would start searching for my belongings—and answers.
As I attempted to navigate the cluttered kitchen, every movement was a challenge. My limbs felt like lead, and the sharp, jagged edges of pain that shot through me with every step were a harsh reminder of my injuries. I clung to the table and countertop, using them as a lifeline to steady my shaky legs. My foot caught on something—a can or maybe a utensil—and the resulting clatter echoed through the kitchen like a gunshot in the stillness of the night.
Suddenly, the doorway filled with the soft, glowing presence of the pegasus I had seen earlier. She was clad in silk pink pyjamas that fluttered gently with her movements, her expression etched with concern. As I swayed precariously, nearly losing my balance altogether, she was at my side in an instant. Her wings barely rustled as she caught me, her hands surprisingly strong and steady.
“You shouldn’t be moving around,” she chided gently, her voice a soothing melody that contrasted sharply with the chaos of my thoughts. For a moment, I was taken aback—not just by her timely intervention, but by her flawless English, articulated with an accent that sounded both foreign and familiar. I had no words, only a nod of begrudging acceptance as the reality of my situation settled in.
With a careful, nurturing touch, she guided me out of the kitchen and into the adjoining living room. The warmth from the fireplace enveloped us, and the sight that greeted me was something out of a fairytale. Animals of all kinds—cats, dogs, a couple of rabbits, and even a bird perched near the mantle—were gathered around the hearth. As we approached, the animals shuffled and repositioned themselves, making room for me on the couch. Each step was a jolt of pain, and despite my best efforts to mask it, a hiss escaped my lips as I sat down, the animals looking up with curious and concerned eyes.
The pegasus, with a grace that seemed inherent to her being, settled beside me on the couch, her wings folding neatly at her sides. She looked at me with those large, kind eyes, full of empathy and an unspoken understanding.
"Thank you," I managed to whisper, the weight of gratitude heavy in my voice. I was still processing the surrealness of being aided by a creature from a children’s story, yet here she was, as real as the pain that throbbed through my body.
"Rest now," she said softly, her voice a comforting balm. "You're safe here."
As I leaned back against the cushions, the animals nearby adjusted to my presence, a cat curling up beside me, offering its warmth. The gentle crackling of the fire and the soft breathing of the creatures around me lulled my senses, providing a strange, comforting sense of security amidst the turmoil. For the first time since the nightmare began, I felt a glimmer of hope, a fragile sense of safety, fostered by the most unlikely of guardians.
As I stroked the cat, a sudden need to know surged within me, breaking the comforting silence. "Where's Jordan?" I asked, unable to keep the edge out of my voice.
The pegasus hesitated, her eyes darting away before settling back on mine, now clouded with distress. "So that's the human’s name." she murmured, more to herself than to me.
She knows what a human is…
After a pause heavy with reluctance, she continued, "After he raided my food and took what supplies he could carry, he demanded to know about any nearby towns or cities. He threatened more harm if I didn't comply."
She looked down, her voice a whisper. "I told him about Ponyville. It's just a few minutes away by flight... a bit longer on foot." Her voice faltered slightly, a mix of fear and resignation in her eyes as she added, "He left after that, everything stuffed into his bag."
I sighed deeply, a wave of apology washing over me. "I'm sorry for his actions," I said, the words thick in my throat. It pained me to hear how Jordan had imposed his will so destructively. "He doesn't represent all of us."
The pegasus nodded slowly, but her eyes remained wary. "I don't know anything about you, or why you're here," she said cautiously. "But I can see you're not like him."
As the room settled back into a comfortable silence, my thoughts churned. If I had been in Jordan's shoes, I would've approached the situation entirely differently. Stealth and subtlety were always my methods; taking only what was needed without leaving a trace. Jordan's blatant carelessness and disregard for the consequences of his actions were what I despised most about him. His brute force approach was not only reckless but unnecessary.
I thought about how I would've moved silently, like a shadow in the night, careful to avoid any unnecessary attention. That was always my strength, not just taking what I could, but ensuring I left as little disturbance as possible. It was about survival, not dominance. And right now, sitting in the warmth of this pegasus's home, I knew that my approach had to be about more than just survival. It had to be about making things right, somehow.
Then, the small brown bunny I had saved made a sudden, spirited entrance. It scampered up onto the couch, dodging a languid cat with a flick of its tail, before bounding into my lap. Its little body was a bundle of energy, hopping excitedly as if celebrating my consciousness. Despite the dull ache that persisted in my bones, a smile cracked across my face. Carefully, using my less injured hand, I lifted the enthusiastic creature to my eye level, meeting its bright, eager gaze.
"He's very happy to see you awake," the pegasus commented softly, her voice carrying a melodic tone that soothed the sharper edges of my pain.
"I can tell," I responded, amused by the bunny’s exuberance. It was a small, warm moment—surprisingly comforting.
She continued, her eyes reflecting a sincere gratitude. "He told me everything that happened. He’s very grateful you saved him from the Timberwolves."
The term 'Timberwolves' piqued my curiosity, fitting so aptly the monstrous wooden beasts I had encountered. "Timberwolves, huh?" I mused aloud, turning the name over in my mind. It was fitting, almost too fitting. My attention snapped back to her, realization dawning. "Wait, he told you?"
Her nod was accompanied by a quaint shrug. "Yes, talking with animals is one of my quirky talents," she explained, as if discussing something as mundane as gardening skills.
The absurdity of the conversation wasn't lost on me. Here I was, bandaged and bruised in a stranger's home, discussing animal communication as if it were normal. "That's quite the talent," I managed to say, my tone a mix of bewilderment and intrigue.
She smiled again, her expression warm. "And thank you for saving him," she added, her gratitude palpable.
I was quick to dismiss the praise, uncomfortable with the weight of her thanks. "Don’t mention it," I muttered, shifting slightly to ease the discomfort that gnawed at my wounds. It was the least I could do in this mad world—save a life, no matter how small.
Sitting there, with the pegasus’s compassionate presence beside me and the rescued bunny in my lap, I couldn’t help but reflect on the surreal turn my life had taken. From the gritty, urban struggles of my past to magical creatures and enchanted forests, it felt like I had stumbled into a dream. Yet, here, in the warmth of the firelight and the company of this magical being and her animal friends, a part of me dared to hope for better days. Perhaps, in this strange new world, there might be a chance for peace, a chance to heal—not just my body, but the worn-out fragments of my soul.
As the bunny nestled comfortably against me, its small heart beating a rapid, lively rhythm that contrasted sharply with the calm aura of the room, I found myself grappling with the reality of my situation. This world, with all its enchantments and dangers, was now my reality. And while the path ahead was uncertain, fraught with potential dangers and new allies, I knew one thing for certain: I wasn't going to face it alone.
The pegasus, sitting quietly beside me, seemed at ease among her animal companions, but her presence stirred a whirlwind of thoughts in my mind.
I caught on to the fact that she knew what humans were, it left me pondering. The fact that she knew about humans and could speak fluent English was a revelation that carried a heavy weight. If humans existed in this world, it opened up a Pandora's box of possibilities and concerns. Were these humans anything like those from Earth? The thought was unsettling. If they were, then this world might be fraught with the same complexities and dangers I had hoped to leave behind.
I glanced at the pegasus, her serene expression as she gently petted a dog at her feet. She seemed so different from the humans I knew—gentle, caring, and in tune with nature in a way that felt almost otherworldly. But what about the other humans here? Were they kind and allied with the ponies, or were they a threat? My mind raced with the possibilities.
If the humans here were kind, allies even, it could mean a chance for a new beginning for Nathan, Gaby, and me. We could find a place to belong, to heal from our past traumas, and to rebuild our lives in a way that wasn't constantly overshadowed by fear and conflict. But if they were anything like the worst of humanity from Earth—selfish, ruthless, and destructive—then survival would be even harder than it already was. The thought of facing not just the mystical dangers of this new world but also the potential threat from humans was daunting.
The pegasus’s calm and the innocent trust of the bunny in my lap gave me a glimmer of hope. Maybe this world was different. Maybe, despite the presence of humans, there was a chance for harmony and peace. I had to believe that. I had to hold onto that hope for Nathan and Gaby's sake.
As I stroked the bunny's soft fur, I resolved to find out more about this world and its inhabitants. We needed allies, friends who could help us navigate this strange new land. The pegasus beside me, with her gentle nature and connection to the animals, felt like a good place to start. For now, I would rest and recover, but soon, I would start seeking answers. Our survival depended on it.
The pegasus shifted nervously beside me, her gaze flickering from the firelight to my face with an unmistakable air of curiosity. Breaking the silence, she asked hesitantly, "What is your name?"
"Mia," I responded, feeling a strange sense of formality in this otherworldly sitting room. My eyes studied her gentle demeanor as I posed my own question, "And what's yours?"
"Fluttershy," she replied, her voice as soft as the light from the fireplace.
"Fluttershy," I echoed thoughtfully, the name rolling off my tongue with a whisper of amusement. It was unusual, sure, but it seemed to suit her perfectly—gentle and a bit timid, yet with an undeniable warmth. "That's a fitting name, love," I added, trying to offer a smile despite the confusion swirling within me.
Fluttershy nodded, her eyes wide and still carrying a hint of anxiety as she mirrored my term of endearment. "Thank you, Mia... love." Her voice trembled slightly with the word, as if she was not used to this kind of exchange but eager to maintain the connection.
I could sense the hesitance in Fluttershy's voice, her words brief and cautious. Their conversations fluttered like the timid wings of a bird, delicate and fleeting. It wasn't just the strangeness of me being human—there seemed to be something deeper, a reservedness that spoke of infrequent interactions with others, or perhaps a gentle soul naturally reticent to open up quickly. I watched Fluttershy's movements, the way she nervously shuffled her bare feet on the soft rug, avoiding prolonged eye contact. It was as if each word was weighed and measured, released into the world with careful consideration. This pegasus was not used to this, not used to strangers, or maybe not used to conflict.
As Me and Fluttershy settled into the comforting warmth of the fireside, the flickering light casting soft shadows around the room, a question from Fluttershy pierced the comfortable silence. She looked at me with a gentle yet curious gaze, her voice tinged with a note of wonder and an underlying hint of concern. "Where did you come from?" she inquired softly, her head tilted slightly, feathers rustling quietly with the movement.
I felt a ripple of caution run through me. The question seemed innocuous, but the implications behind it felt weighty. I furrowed my brow slightly, buying time as I processed the best way to respond. "What do you mean by that?" I asked, my tone careful, masking the sudden spike in my alertness.
Fluttershy's response came with a hint of hesitance, as if she was revealing a secret or stepping into a long-abandoned territory. "Well, it's just that... humans were thought to have gone extinct centuries ago. There have been no signs of your kind since the revolution." Her voice was a mix of nostalgia and melancholy, her eyes reflecting a deep-seated sadness at the memories evoked.
My heart thudded louder in my chest. Extinct? A revolution? The pieces of this world's history that Fluttershy alluded to added layers of complexity to an already puzzling scenario. I was suddenly aware of the enormity of my situation—stranded in a world that had moved on from humans, possibly viewing my kind as relics of a turbulent past.
Choosing my words with care, I decided against revealing my true origin. Mentioning another planet could complicate things further, especially without understanding the full context of human history here. "I'm an explorer," I said finally, my voice even and composed. I deliberately left out any mention of Gaby or Nathan. It wasn’t just about protecting my story; it was about safeguarding them from any potential backlash in a world that might view humans with fear or hostility.
Inside, my thoughts churned. The idea that humans were once part of this world and then vanished suggested a deep and possibly painful history. Were humans the villains in this story? Or perhaps victims of a greater conflict? The uncertainty gnawed at me, adding a layer of caution to my interactions with Fluttershy and this seemingly peaceful world.
Fluttershy's mention of a revolution hinted at a drastic change that reshaped the societal landscape, possibly eradicating humans in the process. This backdrop made my presence not just an anomaly but a potential spark in a bed of old embers. If humans were not remembered fondly, my existence could be a threat or a beacon, depending on how the winds of this world were blowing.
As I pondered these revelations, my resolve hardened. Understanding this world's history and its inhabitants would be crucial. For now, I would tread carefully, an explorer on unknown terrain, my every step a potential discovery or a misstep into peril. The weight of my situation settled around me, a silent but constant reminder of the tightrope I now walked.
Fluttershy hummed softly, clearly puzzled by my evasive response. The room seemed to swell with a subtle tension, the silence stretching uncomfortably. I shifted my focus to the bunny nestled on my lap, stroking its soft fur more attentively as it snuggled into the warmth of my touch. It was a welcome distraction from the weight of the conversation.
Trust, a commodity I valued above almost all else, wasn't granted easily by me, especially not in an unfamiliar world with rules and histories I had yet to understand. Fluttershy, with her gentle demeanor and evident kindness, seemed inherently good—a rarity I could appreciate. She had shown nothing but warmth and concern, qualities that spoke of her character. Yet, caution whispered in the back of my mind, a reminder not to lower my guard too quickly, despite the comfort offered by her presence.
It was still too soon to fully trust, to open up about where I truly came from or the friends who depended on me. But as I watched Fluttershy's sincere efforts to make me feel at ease, a part of me acknowledged that if trust was to begin somewhere in this strange land, Fluttershy's gentle care made a promising foundation. She was, after all, an enigma wrapped in the soft guise of a pegasus pony—a creature from Discord’s story turned flesh and blood right before my eyes.
Navigating this new relationship with care, I resolved to keep my eyes and ears open, to learn and adapt. If Fluttershy proved to be the ally she appeared to be, perhaps, in time, I could let down my guard a little. For now, though, she represented a good start, a flicker of hope in a world shrouded in mystery.
Fluttershy's words hit me like a bolt of lightning, jolting me out of the numbing comfort of ignorance. "You're lucky to be alive, you know." Her voice carried a blunt truth, cloaked in her characteristic shyness. I half-nodded, my fingertips absentmindedly tracing the rough texture of the bandage covering my left eye. Lucky. That seemed like a grotesque understatement. I'd been skating on the thinnest ice, surviving a brutal encounter by the skin of my teeth. Deep down, I dreaded that my borrowed time was running out, especially if my streak of luck back on Earth was anything to go by.
But then, her next words sliced through my spiraling thoughts, freezing me in a grip of sudden, sharp dread. "Timberwolf bites are very potent, a single bite is life-threatening as it can infect the body with many bacterial infections," Fluttershy explained, her voice unnaturally steady, laden with a gravity that belied her usual softness.
Panic
Panic clawed its way up my throat as I blurted out, driven by a spike of fear. "What if it was just a bite, a single bite on the arm!" My voice cracked, the volume rising in desperation, my pulse hammering loudly in my ears. Images of Gaby, her stoic face trying to mask the pain, flashed across my mind—the bite on her arm that I had dismissed too casually, wrapped hastily with mere bandages.
Fluttershy flinched at my outburst but responded with a nervous precision, "W-well, if the bite is not treated properly, the worst-case scenario is that the pony that was bitten could have a life-threatening infection called sepsis, a bacterial infection that is common in the canines of Timberwolves. It causes high fevers, confusion, organ failure, rapid heartbeats—" Her voice became a distant murmur as a singular, horrifying term echoed in my head: sepsis .
I stopped listening. Everything around me blurred into insignificance. Gaby—my Gaby, my closest friend, my pillar in this chaotic world—was in mortal danger because of my oversight. Why hadn't I seen the signs? Why had I underestimated the severity of her wound? I was consumed by a suffocating tide of guilt and dread.
Each beat of my heart felt like a drum of war, pounding out an alarm that I might lose her. Why hadn't I been more cautious, more thorough? Gaby's life was at risk because of my ignorance, my complacency. Anguish twisted inside me, a sharp contrast to the gentle crackle of the fireplace nearby.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no…
“Mia?”
I felt a sharp sting behind my eyes as they welled up with frustration and fear. My breathing became erratic, each inhale sharper than the last, as the weight of my potential failure bore down on me. I needed to act, to make this right. I had to get back to her, somehow, to fight this, to save her as she had always been there to save me. My thoughts raced chaotically, seeking a plan, any plan, that could reverse this nightmare.
Fuck, this can’t be happening, not at a crucial time like this…
“You okay, Mia?”
I pushed myself up, the effort causing my body to tremble with the strain. Every muscle screamed in protest, urging me to reconsider, but I steeled myself against the pain. I had to get moving, to endure this agony just long enough to reach Gaby, to tackle this crisis head-on. I was good at solving problems under pressure, and this was just another problem, albeit a life-threatening one. I had to believe I could handle it; I had to.
I have to go, now!
“Mia! No, sit down, please. You're going to hurt yourself.”
Each step towards the front door was an ordeal, every movement a painful reminder of the injuries I had ignored until now. I stumbled, collapsing momentarily before forcing myself back to my feet, a grimace etched on my face as a warm trickle of blood seeped down my calf. The burning sensation was sharp, but it was just another sting in a sea of agony that I pushed to the back of my mind. My focus was singular—Gaby.
Pain could wait; fear for her could not. I had to move, even if every step felt like the last I might ever take. I could lose a limb, and I would still crawl if it meant saving her. She deserved a chance at happiness, not a slow descent into pain and darkness.
I had to get to her…
“Mia! You're bleeding! You’ve reopened wounds!”
…before it was too late.
What? Did Fluttershy not grasp the gravity of the situation? My friend—my best friend—was in serious danger, possibly dying because I hadn’t done enough. Because I hadn't realized the severity of a simple bite. This wasn't just about me being reckless; it was about me failing someone who depended on me. Gaby needed me now, and nothing else mattered. Not my pain, not the blood, not the panic rising like bile in my throat. She's dying, for God's sake. She's really, seriously dying, and it’s on me to fix it. I had to move, had to get to her. Every second wasted was a second closer to losing her forever.
“Where are you going? Why are you panicking, Mia?” Fluttershy called out with palpable worry, her voice trailing behind me as I struggled with the door handle, only to find it locked. No, no, no, this couldn’t be happening—I needed to get out now.
“Mia!” Fluttershy’s voice rose sharply, piercing through my frantic thoughts for a moment. I turned, my eyes stinging with the threat of tears, and met her gaze. Her eyes were wide, filled with confusion and fear. It hit me then—she didn’t know. She had no idea that Gaby had been bitten; she was completely in the dark. I hadn’t told her, had I? Could I trust her enough to tell her now? I didn’t have a choice. The bandages she had applied, her knowledge of infections—Fluttershy clearly knew her way around medical treatment. Was she a nurse, a doctor, or even a surgeon? It didn’t matter; she understood things about this world that I didn’t, and right now, that knowledge was Gaby’s best chance at survival.
So, in that moment, swallowed by desperation and the stark reality of my friend’s peril, I did what I had never thought I’d do. I dropped to my knees on the cold floor, my voice cracking as I swallowed my pride and my heart pounded against my ribs, each beat a deafening reminder of what was at stake. Tears streamed unchecked down my cheeks, my usual resolve dissolving into raw, unguarded vulnerability.
“Please… Fluttershy, I need your help.”
~Chapter end~
Chapter 1 - When it Rains, it Pours.
“I never lie because I don’t fear anyone. You only lie when you’re afraid.”
Well damn, I thought, my day couldn’t get any better than this, sadly enough. I trudged along the grimy streets of Wood Road, bags of groceries weighing down each hand while Nathan perched on my shoulders, his small hands tangled in my hair for balance. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the dilapidated buildings and wretched, abandoned cars that lined the street. The scent of damp and decay lingered in the air, mingling with the occasional whiff of fried food from the corner chippy.
Nathan and I hadn’t had a decent meal in what felt like ages; it seemed like all we’ve managed to eat lately were bars of chocolate and the greasy fare from the chip shop when we could afford it. Tonight, though, we’d have a proper dinner, and that small victory felt like a luxury.
I glanced down at Nathan’s feet, his worn-out shoes barely holding together. I wished I could afford to buy him a new pair. His shoes never lasted long, thanks to his playful nature. By the end of each week, they were always unwearable. Whether it was from kicking a ball around the crumbling playground, snagging them on a protruding nail through the weak fabric, or simply splashing through the mud with unrestrained glee whenever he saw a puddle, his shoes were always in tatters. Each step he took seemed to carry the weight of our struggles, and each laugh and playful shout was a reminder of the innocence I fought so hard to protect.
I couldn’t stress enough to Nathan the importance of looking after himself and the few pieces of clothing we had left in our wardrobe. Everything I said seemed to go in one ear and out the other, but then again, I was asking a five-year-old to shoulder responsibilities that should never be his. His wide, innocent eyes would look up at me, full of curiosity and mischief, not comprehending the weight of my words.
As we walked, I sighed, thinking about how often I had to remind him to be careful with his clothes. Every tear and stain was a small catastrophe in our world, where every item had to last as long as possible. Yet, he continued to be a child, blissfully unaware of the harsh realities I shielded him from. His laughter echoed down the deserted street, a stark contrast to the decay around us.
Sometimes, I forgot how quickly I had been forced to grow up. My childhood had been stolen by the harsh hand of fate, leaving me to navigate a world that was unforgiving and cold. Having a single father did wonders to my maturity and mental health—or rather, it shattered any semblance of a normal upbringing. His neglect and the need to fend for myself had forged a steely resolve in me, one that now drove me to protect Nathan at all costs.
I can’t take away the freedom he has. Being happy as a kid and having someone to watch his back constantly is what he needs before he can even think about responsibilities. He can leave that to me. But, it’s hard—exhausting, really—to look after a toddler who has so much energy and life within him. It’s a mystery how he has so much of it. I love Nathan to bits, but he can be a pain in the ass, a real fucker when he doesn’t go to bed. Well, I say bed, but in actuality, it’s just a mattress with strands of springs sticking out. I don’t blame him. Honestly, I think I’d rather sleep on the decaying floorboards.
The point I’m trying to make is, I’m conflicted in so many ways that my head is going through its own version of D-Day. I want Nathan to grow up—smile with tons of friends he can play with on his own when he’s old enough—and eventually make his own way in life. Maybe find himself a good-looking bird, go wild at festivals, have sex that same night, get together, and maybe even break up. I don’t care, even if his heart was broken and lost in a sea of doubt and pain. Just as long as he lives a better life than me, that’s all I worry about day and night; I couldn’t care about myself these days. My days of catching my dreams were numbered when I ran away from home. Bet my father is in his flat, smoking bud and fucking slags from the corner like the fucking pleb he is.
“Mia… Mia?” Nathan whined, tapping the top of my head to get my attention.
I glanced up to meet his big brown eyes and chubby cheeks. “What’s up, lad?” I smiled, putting a spring in my step to get him to smile too. Instead, he just pointed up to the fluffy sky.
“The clouds are grey again; it's going to rain,” he muttered, looking up at the gloomy fog above as if to see if his prediction would come true. I sighed inwardly, looking up with him. The sky did look threatening, dark clouds swirling as if they were ready to unleash a downpour.
“Aye, it does look like it’s going to piss down. Just what we bloody need.” Rain was the last thing we needed. Nathan only wore dirty, brandless memory foam lace-up trainers, a pair of modest black shorts, and a plain lime zip-up jacket. Underneath the jacket was the latest Liverpool t-shirt with Salah’s name emblazoned on the back. Funny story about that shirt—some dumbass left his bag of shopping next to his seat while he and his kid went to order their meal at Maccies. Without thinking, I swooped in and grabbed the bag, scoring some free clothing. Call it cruel to take something expensive from a dad and his son, but I couldn't care less. We needed those clothes more than they did. Besides, Nathan always wanted a Liverpool kit. You should have seen the smile on his face when I gave it to him.
As for me, I wore a simple, lightweight, light grey hoodie with a sports bra underneath. My pants were torn light blue jeans that had seen better days, and on my feet were grey trainers that barely kept the dampness out. Not quite the outfit to wear on rainy days. Thinking about it now, with winter near, I’m going to have to find some winter supplies despite our severe money shortage. The chill in the November air was already biting, and there was no doubt December would be worse. The thought of facing freezing nights with barely enough to keep us warm sent a shiver down my spine. We needed heavier coats, proper shoes, maybe even some gloves—things I had to figure out how to get, somehow, before the real cold settled in.
With the block of flats finally within view, the rain — to our displeasure — decided to fuck us over, lashing down without warning. Nathan quickly lifted his hood, and I yanked mine up, the fabric already clinging to my hair. I broke into a swift jog, the weight of the groceries feeling heavier with each step, as the downpour soaked through my clothes.
Reaching the lobby, I leaned down to let Nathan slide off my back, his small feet hitting the ground with a splash. My shoulders felt lighter but my body was drenched. Together, we ascended the stairs, our shoes squelching and leaving a wet trail behind us. The smell of damp and decay in the stairwell mixed with the musty air, a stark reminder of our living conditions. We moved quickly, eager to reach the relative safety and dryness of our flat.
Climbing the stairs, the pungent aroma of ciggies mixed with weed assaulted my senses, masking the scent of the mossy, crumbling white render. A shiver ran through me as the wind picked up, whistling through the multiple balconies alongside the corridors. Graffiti of gang brands and names littered the walls, floors, and doors, even the cracked windows blocked off by newspapers. The whole building was a hoodlum’s canvas, a testament to the neglect and decay of Halewood.
Underneath every flickering light, swarms of flies buzzed in chaotic traffic, flying each way as we passed through. In the shady parts, gangs always loitered, smoking and drinking with their black hoods up and masks on, leaving only their eyes visible. Those eyes always seemed to follow my every move, their beady stares lingering on my arse. Just to confirm my discomfort, one of them whistled suggestively, making the others snicker. Nathan turned his head, curiosity piqued.
I quickly freed my hand, already burdened with grocery bags, and placed it on his furthest shoulder, urging him to keep walking. “Come on, lad,” I murmured, my voice steady despite the tension. My mind raced with thoughts of how vulnerable we were, how exposed. I had to protect Nathan from this dark world, even if it meant enduring the lecherous gazes of these pricks.
I thought about the countless times I’d walked these halls, each time feeling a little more like a battlefield. I remembered the lessons I’d learned the hard way — never show fear, never look back, and always be ready to defend yourself. My fingers itched for the comfort of the knife hidden in my waistband, a habit I’d picked up from years of living on the edge.
These hallways were a far cry from the childhood I wanted for Nathan. He deserved to play in safe, sunny parks, not navigate these treacherous corridors filled with broken glass and hostile stares. Each step we took echoed my determination to give him a better life, no matter the cost.
As we neared our door, the weight of the groceries and the oppressive atmosphere made my muscles ache. The only solace was knowing that once we were inside, we could shut out the world for a little while.
This place is a nightmare. Muggings, theft, assault, and even murder are routine. Bloodstains on the walls tell tales of the unfortunate souls who never made it out. Their remains are forever etched into this decaying structure. The likely culprits? The Stoners. The name might sound harmless, but these guys live by a brutal code. Look at them the wrong way, and you’re emptying your pockets. Get caught talking shit, and you’d better be ready to fight.
Living here is a last resort, but it’s the cheapest option, and right now, that’s all Nathan and I can afford. Three months we’ve managed to survive in this hellhole. Somehow, we’ve stayed under the radar, avoiding major trouble. But there’s always a dark cloud looming, and that cloud’s name is Jordan. He’s a nasty piece of work who doesn’t give a damn about anyone.
Jordan’s been to jail twice, and his reputation is well-earned. The first time, at 15, he was part of a mob that robbed and torched a corner shop, trapping the employees inside. He got caught trying to flee. They say it was revenge for one of their own getting caught stealing and being held until the feds came. The second time was worse. He was in a knife fight, killed three, injured five, and got nabbed again.
Now he’s out and lurking around the block, smoking, drinking, and eyeing me like a predator. He’s relentless, always trying to corner me with lewd comments and sleazy looks. Every encounter with him makes my skin crawl. Last time, Nathan was with me. His little hands clung to my jeans, sensing my fear. I’d stood my ground, my hand on the hidden knife in my waistband. “Not today, you bastard,” I thought, glaring at him with more confidence than I felt. He’d smirked, that infuriating smirk that made me want to punch his teeth in, but he’d backed off — for now.
I can’t let my guard down. Not for a second. This place is a battlefield, and I’m fighting a war on all fronts. For Nathan, for myself, for a future that doesn’t seem as bleak as the present. Each day is a struggle, but giving up isn’t an option. Nathan depends on me. I can’t afford to show fear or weakness. I have to stay strong, no matter how much it tears me up inside.
Reaching the floor of our dorm, we shed our hoods, and I paused Nathan before he could dash off to our room.
“Here, take the keys. They’re in my hoodie, left pocket,” I instructed, leaning toward him slightly. He retrieved the keys with a childish giggle and scurried away. As I gripped the strained handles of the plastic bags a bit tighter, thoughts of a soothing bath momentarily lightened my mood.
Just as Nathan was about to turn the corner, three lads emerged simultaneously. My heart lurched as Nathan collided with the one in the middle, drenching the man’s thick, raven coat and shirt with the contents of his bottle. Nathan stumbled backward onto his rear, his face a mix of anxiety and regret as he surveyed the mess.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
“Fucking watch where you’re going, kid!” the man bellowed, his eyes igniting with anger as he towered over Nathan. Frozen, Nathan sat there, his eyes wide and mouth agape, struggling to formulate a response. “Fucking hell, you twat.”
“OI!” I yelled, letting my bags fall to the floor. “There’s no fucking need for that; he’s just a kid!” I marched forward, positioning myself between Nathan and the looming figure. The man’s hood shadowed his face, but as he looked up, the unmistakable green eyes of Jordan met mine, morphing his anger into a cocky grin.
“Oh, didn’t see you there, Mia,” Jordan said, ignoring Nathan for the moment as he approached me with that smug look plastered on his face. “I’m having a gaff later on; maybe I could pick you up around 8, ay?”
“Don’t bother,” I shot back, my voice dripping with disdain. “I don’t have time to get drugged up and drunk off my ass just so you can get me into your filthy bed. Besides, I bet you already have slags going to your flat just so they can get paid by getting fucked. I don’t want anything to do with that, you rag-ass cunt.” I emphasized every word, making it clear exactly how I felt. I knew Jordan and his type all too well. He looked at me like a predator sizing up his prey. To him, I was nothing more than a slab of meat.
“You’re cute when you’re angry, y’know. Come round whenever, there’ll always be a spot on the bed for you.” Jordan sniggered, clearly not catching the venom in my voice. He never did take me seriously, nor did he take any other girl seriously. It didn’t matter what we said; like all the lads these days, our words went in one ear and out the other. Mention money, video games, or sex, though, and you had their undivided attention. It’s fucking unreal. I could only hope Nathan wouldn’t grow up to be like that.
As Jordan walked by, staring me down the entire time, he couldn’t resist slapping my ass and giving it a squeeze, making his intentions blatantly clear. I grimaced at the contact, my skin crawling with disgust. It took everything in me not to reach for my side, where a kitchen knife was tucked in, ready to be used. But I didn’t move or turn my head, even when I heard my bag of groceries being kicked. I just sighed in relief that he only kicked the bag. He could have robbed me, and I wouldn’t have been able to do anything about it.
I waited until I heard the fading footsteps heading downstairs before turning around. My shoulders dropped as I saw the carton of eggs smashed to bits, the yolk spreading like blood across the floor. I could only hope a few eggs survived. I haven’t had eggs in ages. I leaned down, grabbing the plastic bag in one hand and the scattered groceries in the other. Nathan joined me, his small hands carefully picking up the undamaged items.
“You okay, Mia?” Nathan finally broke the silence. I turned to meet his concerned features and mustered what I hoped was a reassuring smile.
“Don’t worry, kiddo, I’m fine. But you need to be more careful where you’re running, especially around here. Not many nice people in this place, you hear me?”
He nodded silently, a frown creasing his little face. “Sorry,” he said apologetically. I exhaled, rubbing my tired eyes. God, it felt like I hadn’t slept in days.
“Look, I just don’t want to see you hurt. Stay close to me when we’re around here, okay?” I wrapped my arm around his neck and pulled him into a warm hug despite the cold. “I love you, okay? I’m not telling you off because I’m disappointed. I just want you to learn from your mistakes. Trust me, you’ll make a lot more in life, but remember, I’ll always be there for you no matter what.” I smiled as he smiled back at me.
“Okay,” he replied, freeing himself from my grasp. “Come on, I’m hungry.”
“Alright, just stay by me,” I said, picking up the bags once more.
-/:/-
Unlocking the front door of my apartment, I groaned at the sight that greeted me when I flicked the lights on. The single, flickering bulb cast a harsh light over the room, revealing the extent of the decay. The wallpaper hung in ripped and torn shreds, stained yellow from years of neglect. A persistent leak dripped steadily into a half-filled bucket in the corner, the sound echoing in the otherwise silent room.
The floorboards creaked ominously underfoot, some of them warped and others splintered, threatening to give way at any moment. The entire room reeked of mold and decay, like a rat’s corpse had been left to rot somewhere hidden. Piles of old newspapers and discarded items cluttered the corners, adding to the sense of squalor.
In other words, a complete shit hole. Yet, despite its many flaws, it was still a refuge from the dangers outside. I’d rather be here, in this decrepit apartment, than in Jordan’s place. Fucking prick.
I set the groceries down on the rickety kitchen table, its surface scarred from years of use. The table wobbled slightly under the weight, but it held. Nathan looked up at me, his eyes wide with concern, and I mustered a reassuring smile.
“Home sweet home,” I muttered sarcastically, trying to lighten the mood. But the truth was, this place was all we had, and I had to make it work for Nathan’s sake.
Dropping my keys into the pocket of my hoodie, I hung it on the back of the door, revealing my black tank top and the handle of the knife tucked into the side of my jeans. I hated carrying it, hated what I might have to use it for, but there was one thing I hated more: this town.
I despised the way I felt afraid in my own home, loathed the times I had to walk past chavs with their hoods up, not knowing if they intended to rob me or worse, violate me. That’s why I stayed equipped and ready. I didn’t want to stab anyone, let alone kill, but for Nathan’s sake, I had to be prepared for anything.
The weight of the knife was a constant reminder of the life we were trapped in. Every time I felt its cold handle against my skin, a shiver ran down my spine. It wasn’t just a tool for protection; it was a symbol of the harsh reality we lived in—a reality where danger lurked around every corner and trust was a luxury we couldn’t afford.
I turned to Nathan, who was watching me with those big, innocent eyes. He deserved a better life than this, a life free from fear and violence. But until I could give him that, I had to be strong. I had to be ready to do whatever it took to keep him safe.
“Come on, Mia. I’m hungry!” Nathan complained, running over to the couch and reaching for the remote. I rolled my eyes and chuckled a bit. Should have known he would head straight to the TV. Liverpool were playing today against Manchester United at Old Trafford. I was actually excited about it too. Man U hadn’t done well this season under Ole, so Nathan and I reckoned we’d win five or six nil. Doesn’t matter if they do have Ronaldo—big Virgil will sort him out. It’s going to be a good game.
“Alright, alright, I’ll get dinner sorted,” Walking over to the kitchen side of the room, I placed the bags on the countertop and began putting everything away in the cupboards and the old, rickety fridge. Only three eggs had survived Jordan’s kick—better than two, I guess.
“So, what are we having for tea then? Fancy egg on toast? Or I’ve got a packet of chicken noodles here? Up to you,” I asked, glancing over my shoulder to see Nathan flick off his shoes.
“Ooo, can I have egg on toast! Haven’t had that in ages,” he cheered, his smile lighting up the room. That smile always managed to brighten my day, no matter how tough things got.
“Alright then, egg on toast it is,” I said, more to myself than to Nathan. Suddenly, the sound of commentary filled the room, and the familiar, somewhat annoying voices of Gary Neville and Jamie Carragher blared from the TV.
“Hurry up, Mia. It’s about to start,” Nathan moaned, getting comfy with a pillow over his lap.
“Alright, calm your ass down, kiddo. It’ll only take a few minutes, you big dope,” I smirked. He always loved his food and didn’t like to wait for it. Typical lad behavior, that. But I couldn’t blame him—I was bloody starving too.
I quickly cracked the surviving eggs into a pan, the sizzle filling the kitchen with a warm, comforting sound. The smell of frying eggs wafted through the room, mixing with the excitement of the impending match. Nathan’s laughter and the pre-match commentary created a cozy, almost normal atmosphere, a rare respite from our usual struggles.
As the eggs cooked, I prepared the toast, my movements quick and practiced. These small moments of routine, of caring for Nathan, grounded me. No matter how chaotic our lives were, these little rituals brought a sense of stability.
“Here you go, Nate,” I said, placing the plate of egg on toast in front of him. His eyes lit up, and he dug in with enthusiasm.
I joined him on the couch, our eyes glued to the screen as the players took to the field. For now, at least, we could forget about the world outside and enjoy the game together.
-/:/-
“Aww, what a ball from Hendo!” I cheered in awe, a glass of coke in one hand as I stood up.
“Go on, Salah! Go on, Salah!” Nathan bounced on the couch, crumbs of toast and bits of egg plastered to the side of his mouth.
“YESSSS!” we both shouted as Salah scored his third goal against Manchester United five minutes into the second half. To say we were buzzing was an understatement. With everything that happened an hour ago, we felt like we were on top of the world. It was five-nil to Liverpool with forty minutes to go. This could easily be seven or eight nil.
“Man United are fucking shit!” Nathan laughed. I laughed with him. Some may judge me for letting Nathan swear, but honestly, I don’t see what all the fuss is about. When you’re a Scouser, swear words are just part of your vocabulary. It’s like saying a nun isn’t allowed to pray to the Lord. Shit slips out in the heat of the moment. We do it unconsciously; it’s not our fault.
“Alright, lad, let’s see if they can make it six,” I said, settling back down beside him. We both leaned forward, eyes glued to the screen as the match continued, the tension and excitement palpable.
Nathan’s laughter filled the room, mixing with the triumphant roars of the commentators and the crowd at Old Trafford. For now, we were in our own little world, united by our love for Liverpool and the shared exhilaration of the game.
“FUCK SAKE!!!” a man’s voice shouted from behind the wall, followed by the sound of a bottle smashing. Nathan snickered.
“Was that Tony?” he whispered, as if he thought the next-door neighbor could hear him.
“Yeah, he’s a dirty Manc,” I whispered back, wrapping my arm around him. Tony is a lifelong Manchester United fan, one of the OGs who’s seen his team win almost everything. But now, he’s a bad alcoholic, and recently, I’ve noticed some odd smells coming from his place. Drugs, if I had to guess. I would say I feel sorry for the old bastard, but let’s be real. I have better things to do than worry about anyone else other than Nathan.
“He stinks, y’know,” Nathan giggled.
“Yeah, that’s why you don’t go near him. He’s got gobshite-arthritis.” Nathan laughed harder. His laughter echoed around our dingy apartment, a bright spot in our otherwise grim surroundings.
The game continued in the background, but for a moment, all I could focus on was Nathan’s smile and the warmth of his small body against mine. His happiness, even in these tough times, brought a rare sense of comfort. Suddenly, I heard my phone buzz. Reaching for my pocket and pulling it out, my smile faded a little as the name ‘Gaby’ appeared on the screen. Gaby? What does she want? And at this time?
“I’m going to take this call, I’ll be a sec,” I said to Nathan, making my way to the front door and picking up my hoodie on the way out.
“Alright, don’t take long,” he replied, his eyes fixed on the game.
Leaning on the railing of the balcony, I stared at the phone in wonder. Why now? Why me? With a deep breath, I answered the call, waiting for her to speak first. That’s the rule these days. Paranoid as fuck, I don’t truly know who the person is behind any call. That’s why I never speak first. I’ve got too many rival gangs, feds, or hell, even my dad could be looking for me. If it’s not Gaby on the other end, I’m smashing this phone and we’re leaving. I’m taking no risks, not now, not ever again.
“Hey, Mia. It’s me, Gaby.” The soft voice of Gaby came through the phone. I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Gaby is an old friend; we met at a park when we were young and became close. The only downside is that she’s a bitter blue, so we’re constantly at each other’s throats when our teams play each other.
“Hey, Gaby. It’s been a while, huh?” I murmured, gazing into the darkness of the night.
“Yeah, it has. I miss the times we spent together. It hasn’t been the same. It’s all business and no joy. JC has us working around the clock after you left, y’know,” she said, yawning right after. Bloody hell, with a deep yawn like that, she mustn’t be kidding.
“JC? Why is he making you lot work for him? He’s a nobody. Kenny better not be pulling another favor for him,” I growled, knowing Kenny all too well.
“Aye, we’re meant to be a gang, a family, not employees who get paid with free dinner and tea. It pisses me off!” she shouted over the phone. “I just—I just want out. I want to start over with someone I know. Kenny and even JC have got us linked with a lot of shady firms that I don’t like the sound of. They’re picking Kenny and JC apart and they can’t even see it. All they can think about is making the dough. I think they’re gonna leave us to rot and take all we have.”
Gaby started to sob over the phone, and I felt my depression build within. The thing I hate most of all is seeing my friends cry helplessly and not being able to do anything about it. I waited for five painful minutes for her to finish as she babbled on about her situation. I pulled out a pack of ciggies and lit one, inhaling the unhealthy bullshit that’s supposed to make me feel better.
“I’m sorry, at this point I’m just offloading everything onto you,” she said, her voice shaky.
“Don’t worry about it, I’m your mate. What are mates for, ay?” I chuckled lightly. “Besides, I’m the gal you usually come to talk to.”
“Yeah, you always did listen to what I had to say, what everyone had to say. You’re a good listener without meaning to be,” she sniffled, her sobs stopping for the time being.
“In my eyes, if you don’t listen to the people you care about, you might as well hang up the phone,” I murmured, taking a quick drag. “No point picking up the phone at all if that’s how you want to treat them.”
“And that’s why you’re my best mate, Mia,” she sniffled before asking the question I had been waiting for. “Hey, I don’t mean to be a pain, but could I stay with you for a while? You know what my arl fella is like, and well… I don’t really have any more family or friends. You’re the only person I can turn to… so, could I?”
I didn’t answer at first. It was tempting to bring back a familiar face into my small circle, someone trustworthy and honest. But providing for another mouth with the financial problems I’m facing, that’s shit I can’t be dealing with, especially with a 5-year-old kid to care for. I knew for a fact she had no dough; otherwise, she wouldn’t be calling to freeload off me. The reasonable thing to do was to tell her to fuck off and unload on someone else. I’d told myself countless times I had better things to do than feel sorry or care about anyone else other than Nathan. But… I couldn’t. Not to Gaby, not after everything she’s done for me.
“Hey, Mia? Still there?” Gaby’s voice came through nervously, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“Oh, yeah, sorry. Just blanked out for a second there, these ciggies just hit different.” I took the last drag of the cigarette before flicking it away. “Yeah, you can stay with me and Nathan. We could do with some company. Must warn you, though, we’ve got a scruffy, fat mess of a Manc as a neighbor, and the block is packed full of Stoners. It’s not going to be your dream room either.”
“That won’t matter too much, gal. With you and me, we’ll be flying.”
“You’re too optimistic. We hit the peak when we were robbing corner stores left, right, and center. Now look where we are. Kenny and JC are taking the piss and left you lot with the scraps. I left because I saw that a mile away and I wasn’t going to let Nathan be in the middle of that shit-wreck.” I fumed, gripping the railing tightly.
“Aye, you said that before you left. I guess I loved them too much to see what Kenny was doing to us. Sorry I didn’t believe you.” She sighed. “Now I’m more miserable than ever. I guess that’s what I get for not listening to you or paying attention to what was happening right in front of me.”
“Hey, there’s no need to beat yourself up over it now. I know you meant well at the end of the day. Come over to mine, we can talk more. I kind of want to get back to the match. I’ll text you the details of my place. Ring me when you’re near.” I said, leaning back from my spot.
“Oh, are the Red Shite playing? Bet you’re getting twatted everywhere.” She laughed.
“Nah, only winning five nil at Old Trafford. Standard shit. How about you Blue Shite, where are you on the table?” I replied snarkily.
“You lot, always worrying about us. You lot would never have existed if it wasn’t for—”
“Since 1995! Since 1995! You haven’t won a trophy, you haven’t won a trophy, you haven’t won a trophy! Since 1995!” I sang, blocking out whatever her snide comeback was until the familiar sound of her hanging up came through. I chuckled. That always pisses her off.
The little bit of happiness I’d felt was fading away into the night. I try so hard to keep a smile on my face so I don’t turn into a sobbing mess, so I don’t look weak in front of Nathan. I hate the way I have to risk my ass going into strangers’ homes, wondering if I’m going to die or not. I hate the way I get looked at like some bitch who will fuck any lad from the block. I hate the way I have to look after a fucking five-year-old child as if I have the money to do that, as if I had a home to do that, as if I had the fucking time to do that.
Slowly, I turned my back against the railing and slid down to the cold, hard floor. My hand reached out to my jacket pocket, pulling out another ciggie. Holding the orange bit with my lips, I covered the lighter with my hand as I tried to light the end. After five minutes of futile attempts, I realized I had no more gas in the lighter. I felt like giving up right there, letting my arms fall to the floor and the ciggie drop from my lips. What was the fucking point anymore? I can’t even enjoy something that is slowly killing my lungs.
I don’t believe in God, but fuck you, I thought bitterly, staring up at the dark, indifferent sky. The stars offered no solace, their distant light only mocking my misery. I felt the tears prick at the corners of my eyes, but I blinked them away, refusing to let them fall.
I sat there for a few more moments, letting the night air chill my skin. The noise from the apartment—Nathan’s laughter and the commentary from the game—felt distant, almost surreal. I was stuck in this liminal space between despair and duty, knowing I couldn’t afford to break down, not now.
“Fuck me, you look like shit,” an unwanted and unwelcome voice said out of nowhere, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“Fuck off, Jordan. I’m not in the mood,” I said, not bothering to look up into his eyes. I could already imagine the smug look on his face.
“No seriously, you look like shit. Look what you’re doing to yourself. Why are you taking responsibility for a kid that’s not even yours? It’s fucked. You’re nineteen years old, for fuck’s sake.” His voice carried a note of genuine confusion, as if the concept of caring for someone else was utterly foreign to him.
I didn’t answer. He would never understand, even if I tried to explain. Jordan had always been about himself, never having to take care of anyone but his own sorry ass.
“Nothing. You’re going to say nothing. Wow, fucking unbelievable. Fucking unreal. Well, you fucking bitch, let me try and get something through your thick head,” he babbled on, his words slurring together. I could practically hear the alcohol speaking for him. Why did I have to deal with him now?
I glanced up, meeting his bleary eyes, bloodshot and unfocused. His breath reeked of booze, and he swayed slightly as he tried to make his point. “Jordan, just leave me alone. Go sleep it off,” I muttered, my patience wearing thin.
He took a step closer, invading my space, his presence oppressive. “No, I’m not done. You need to wake up and see what a mess you’re making of your life. That kid isn’t your problem. You could be out there, having fun, living your life, but instead, you’re stuck here in this shithole,” he spat, the words laced with disdain.
I clenched my fists, trying to keep my temper in check. “You don’t know anything about my life, Jordan. So back off,” I said through gritted teeth.
Jordan’s expression shifted from confusion to anger, his eyes narrowing. “You think you’re better than me? Huh? Just because you’re playing house with that brat? You’re nothing, Mia. Nothing.”
His words stung, but I refused to let him see it. “Get out of my face, Jordan. Now,” I warned, my voice low and dangerous.
Suddenly, a force grabbed me by the collar, yanking my body up to be level with Jordan’s eyes. I saw the unstable fury burning in those eyes. I was about to retort, but a pain like a sledgehammer to the stomach left me breathless. My body crumpled to the ground, and I curled up immediately, wrapping my arms around my belly as spit dribbled from my open mouth. My body struggled to comprehend the pain. Fuck me, he has a mean gut punch.
But he didn’t stop there. While I was in a ball on the ground, he took a few steps back and, like taking a goal kick, volleyed me right in the nose.
“I’ve. Fucking. Had. Enough. Of. You.” He roared, kicking me wildly while hanging onto the railing above me. “Who. The. Fuck. Do. You. Think. You. Are. Telling. Me. To. Fuck. Off. You. Fucking. Skank!” he finished, landing his last kick to my ribs.
All I could feel was pain searing across my upper body. I couldn’t think straight; I could barely see as my vision started tunneling and doubling. The taste of iron filled my mouth as warm blood ran from my nose down my face. My mind was rocked, and I felt sick from all the dizziness.
I knew he was still ranting about me, but it was only background noise compared to the ringing in my ears. I tried to keep my breathing under control, but with the shock and lack of air, it was impossible to get my shit together. Each breath was a struggle, each gasp sending jolts of agony through my body.
I blinked, trying to clear my vision, but the darkness was closing in. The world spun, and I felt like I was teetering on the edge of consciousness. I had to fight it. I had to stay awake. For Nathan. For myself.
Then I heard a faint creaking sound, and my vision brightened a bit. The next thing I heard was a young voice calling my name. My blood went cold as the realization struck home.
Shakily, I looked up to see a blurry Nathan in the doorway, his face twisted in horror. I tried to speak, to tell him to close the door and lock it, but my words were stuck in my throat.
“M-Mia?” he said, his voice trembling with terror. The poor kid must think I’m dead with the way I look. Considering the state I’m in, he’s not far from the truth.
“Ah, and there’s the other little shit. I still have to pay you back for spilling my drink all over me and for cock blocking me, you little prick,” Jordan said with a low, menacing chuckle. No, no he wouldn’t. Not to a kid, surely. Even if he was hammered, no one could just hit a kid, could they? But as Jordan slowly walked towards the frozen Nathan, my body worked overtime to pick myself up. Even if my body screamed in protest, I had to get up, I just had to.
My arms shook from the weight of my own body, which felt ten times heavier than normal, but I had to keep pushing.
Making my way to one knee, I took a breather as all my senses started to come back, along with a bit of my balance. Looking back up, I started to panic as Jordan closed the door behind him. The sound of the door being locked only deepened my fears. With the stories of what this maniac had done in the past, I could only imagine what was happening inside. I eventually got onto my feet, my heart pounding in my chest.
“AHHHHH, THAT HURTS, STOP!”
All the pain, all the fear I felt from Jordan instantly vanished, and something deep within me, something I hadn’t felt in years, began to stir. My blood boiled, ready to erupt with corrupted rage. No one, and I mean no one, touches Nathan and thinks they can get away with it. I don’t care whose block I’m staying in. Jordan is done.
Gritting my teeth, I charged the door, leaning my shoulder into it without a thought of slowing down. I didn’t feel the impact; all I knew was that the door wasn’t open. So I did it again, and again, and again, until the rusted old door broke off its hinges, all while shouting death threats at the top of my lungs like an animal to its prey. I was beyond furious. I couldn’t care less if it was me getting beaten, but Nathan is a different story. No one touches my little boy.
I swear to God, if I see him being beaten, I don’t know what I will do, especially with a knife by my side. I’ve stabbed someone before—someone I didn’t know. Who knows how many times I’ll shank this prick.
With a feral roar, I charged the door with everything I had. Finally, the door was slammed off its hinges, and I fell to the ground with it. The sound of pleas for help and cries of agony grew louder, mingled with the sickening noise of flesh hitting flesh.
I scrambled up from the door and instantly saw Jordan kneeling over Nathan, beating him relentlessly. My whole body trembled with fury, and I felt a sharp pain in my mouth—I’d chipped my tooth from clenching my jaw so hard. That was it. That was all I needed to see to know what I was about to do to him.
Blood pounded in my ears as I reached for the knife at my side, my vision narrowing to a tunnel focused solely on Jordan. The rage I felt was pure, unfiltered, and unstoppable. No more words, no more hesitation. Jordan was going to pay for this.
With a few quick steps, I positioned myself behind Jordan. Grabbing the back of his hood, I yanked him backward, causing him to lose balance and fall on his ass. The unstable Jordan was momentarily confused, giving me just enough time to pull back my leg and deliver a powerful kick to his jaw. His features went slack, and his eyes became foggy.
Dazed, Jordan fell back, and I knew this was my moment to put an end to him. Pulling out an eight-inch kitchen knife from my jeans, I straddled him. Without a second’s hesitation, I plunged the knife deep into his chest, right through his coat.
His eyes shot open, and his mouth formed a silent scream. It was satisfying to see such a rare expression of shock on his face. Jordan, who always wore a cocky smile or a snarl, now showed fear. Seeing that fear brought a twisted smile to my face.
But I wasn’t done. I plunged the knife into him again, and again, and again, each thrust fueled by the pain and torment he had inflicted on us. As many times as he kicked me, for as many days as he tormented me, for every time he hit Nathan — which I didn’t know the exact number of, so I continued until I was satisfied.
Each stab was a release of all the pent-up rage and helplessness I had felt. Blood splattered with every thrust, covering my hands and clothes, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop. Not until Jordan was reduced to a motionless, bloody heap beneath me.
“How do you like it, Jor-dan?” I chuckled mockingly. “I know you’ve killed people before. I was told you pissed on one of their graves right after because he didn’t pay the money he owed. What are you? A kid? You’re so childish.” I shouted, twisting the knife within his body. I felt the flesh give way, and the blood gushed more fluidly. It was like music to my ears when he screamed like a bitch.
His screams were raw and filled with terror, a stark contrast to the cocky and menacing persona he usually wore. I twisted the knife again, savouring the sound of his agony. This was payback for all the pain he had caused, for every bruise and scar he had left on us.
“You thought you were untouchable, didn’t you?” I hissed, leaning closer to his face. “Well, look at you now. You’re nothing.”
His eyes rolled back, and his body convulsed beneath me. The sight of his bloodied, defeated form brought a grim satisfaction. I had finally taken back some control, reclaimed some power from the man who had terrorized us for so long.
As his screams subsided into weak gasps, I pulled the knife out one last time, watching as his life drained away. His eyes glazed over, and the fight left his body.
“M-Mia?” a frail sob came from behind me. I froze on the spot, the knife still held above my head, ready to strike down. Slowly, I turned around to meet the eyes of the boy I swore to protect and raise with all the love I had to give. The kid I vowed to give a better life than my own.
Nathan’s eye was almost completely swollen like a balloon, tears pouring down his face. His nose was leaking blood, and there was a cut on his forehead, nearly hidden by his hair. I immediately dropped the knife onto Jordan’s unflinching body and moved to comfort Nathan with a deep hug. As soon as I got close, Nathan clawed back and flinched when I tried to wrap my arms around him, his eyes closed as he shook violently. I stopped, inches in front of him.
Only then did I realize what I had just done right in front of Nathan. The fear in his eyes broke my heart. My hands trembled, and I felt myself go cold as fresh tears of my own spilled. What did this mean for me? Would he ever forgive me? Would he ever want to stay with me? After all this time, is this how it ends? Me murdering someone to protect Nathan? Why did I do that? Why didn’t I do something else? Why didn’t I just knock him out or stab him at least once in the arm or leg? Why was my first thought to kill that son of a bitch?
Now, the only person I truly cared for feared me. What is wrong with me?
I let my arms go limp and my body sag, feeling my energy and will expire. Getting up, I nearly fell back down as the pain came back into focus. Steadily, I walked to the wide-open door and closed it behind me. I debated on leaving then and there but instead leaned back to my previous spot and pulled out another smoke, knowing full well that one wasn’t going to be enough.
0-0-0-0-0
Five cigarettes later, I found myself half-debating asking the lads across from me for some weed and half-debating jumping off the two-story block right then and there. Smoking these fags hadn’t helped me whatsoever. I didn’t know why I was still smoking them. It was like applying for college and only turning up for one day—pointless and a waste of time.
The nicotine did nothing to numb the storm of emotions inside me. My mind raced with guilt, fear, and regret. I glanced over at the group of lads huddled together, their laughter and casual banter a stark contrast to the chaos in my head. The idea of losing myself in a haze of weed was tempting, but I knew it wouldn’t solve anything.
The thought of jumping crossed my mind again, the dark allure of escape whispering seductively. It would be so easy to just end it all, to let go of the pain and the fear. But then Nathan’s face flashed in my mind, and I knew I couldn’t leave him alone in this world, especially not after what he had just witnessed.
Yet again, I’ve been smoking for the longest time, finding a bit of comfort in the familiar ritual. It brings me back to when I was younger, when life was simple and meaningless. When I was with my friends and family, we didn’t fuss over the big or small things in life—we just enjoyed the time we had together. Back when Kenny, Linda, Ben, Mason, Mark, Gaby, and I were kids, playing footy or hanging out at school. That was the life.
But now, I don’t even know what to do with my life. I don’t know where to go after what I did. Should I just walk away and let Nathan be someone else’s problem? That kid—the gorgeous, bright, young lad—deserves better than me. He doesn’t deserve a murderous bitch like me. It was tempting, so tempting, to run free without the responsibility of someone on my back.
But I couldn’t. I could never leave such a precious boy in a place like this. Never. Not only that, I promised Nathan’s mother, my big sister, that I would never leave him. I promised I would cook, feed, and bathe him; hug, kiss, and show him all my love. And at the end of the day, I promised I would fight, protect, and yes… I promised to kill for him.
Flicking away my fifth and final ciggy, I was about to turn back to the door to confront Nathan when my phone started to buzz in my jeans. Pulling it out, a notification popped up on the screen. It was a message from Gaby saying she was ten minutes away. Good. The faster she’s here, the quicker we can go. Jordan’s fuck boys are probably wondering where he is, or they’re too stoned to care. I’m hoping for the latter.
“Sooo, let me guess. The red stain on your face and clothing is just tomato sauce and not the blood of a man you just killed,” a charming old voice said from my side. It was a pleasurable tone to listen to if you didn’t know who you were speaking to, but now wasn’t the time. Huffing, I turned to see a cute German Shepherd puppy, sitting in the middle of the catwalk, staring back with those sentient eyes.
“What’s up, Discord?”
~End Of Chapter~
