Heartdark

Chapter One

Maybe they won't believe her. They don't have any reason to believe it's true. Yet she can't turn back. As Nama pounds her fist against the council door, she knows it all comes down to this. In her ripped jeans and bloodied shirt, she doesn't present a super credible image, but there's no time to change.

The door doesn't open.

Nama crashes her fist through it instead. They'd hear her out this time whether they want it or not. This looms bigger than the town's ego.

If they won't believe her, this town will only be the first to die.

Two days ago, she didn't know.

Two days ago, she woke up at home and everything was fine.

.

Everything was fine.

Nama curled on her side away from the quiet chime of her alarm, not wanting to get up and cross the room to turn off her phone. It was Saturday and she didn't have to get up early today. As the volume crept upward, she hid in her curls of red hair, shoving handfuls against her ears with a heartfelt groan.

Polite tapping at her door interrupted the beat as her mother Aenica asked, "Nama, can you please turn off your alarm?"

Though a smile shaped the words, it sharpened an edge of irritation that sliced through the air with no room for protest.

Nama knew better than to say anything.

"It's quiet and it's by the door," she said anyway, pulling the pillow fully over her head.

"Turn it off," her mother instantly demanded, moving away from the door with a soft step.

Music box notes still floated upward from her phone, bouncing softly through the pillow. Nama emerged reluctantly. She wiped the sleep from her face with long, knobbly fingers and stood on heavy legs still longing for bed.

She reached the phone and flicked off the alarm, immediately pivoting to cocoon herself in blankets again. Sunlight fell on the room with a vengeance, yes, but it was Saturday. This was her one day off. Nama sighed out the wakefulness her little interlude had given her and shut her eyes.

The music started again.

It was a lullaby from some classical musician a century ago, familiar but not loved, simplified into a single melody of tinkling metal. She knew it, probably from a class or something. High school, maybe. Ancient history, in any case. The problem was not the song, but rather that it was playing.

"Off!" her mother called again from her room next door.

"On it!" Jumping more spryly from bed on this second waking, Nama frowned down at the phone in her hand and very precisely poked the off button on the screen. There. She must have hit snooze before on accident.

Minutes later, the alarm went off a third time.

"Nama!" Aenica's indignant exclamation pushed her to her feet in seconds this time.

"I'm sorry!" she cried back, grabbing the phone with both hands and preparing to turn the whole thing off when abruptly the song changed.

She was certain it had never had lyrics before. Or had it? She thought she'd remember something like this, though.

The man's voice was soft and low as he crooned along with the music box.

"Hush, my child. Don't close your eyes.

The world is bright but it tells lies

to you.

It tells lies to you."