ɢʀօաȶɦ, աɛ ɢʀօա ȶօɢɛȶɦɛʀ | Enoch O'Connor

Not On 'Earth'

Adrenna stayed hidden within Hugh's shadow, making herself as small and quiet as possible, barely daring to breathe. She listened intently as Hugh's footsteps fell into a rhythm, the crunch of gravel beneath his shoes mingling with the low hum of his voice.

"Millard, I'm serious," Hugh grumbled, glancing sideways as if addressing the air itself. "She saw you. How can she see you?"

"Well, it's not my fault if she has good eyesight," a voice responded dryly—Millard's, Adrenna realized, the invisible boy whose shadow she had noticed earlier. "Maybe you should've run faster."

Hugh huffed in annoyance, his hands tightening into fists. "Run faster? I almost tripped three times! If she saw you, it means something's off."

Adrenna could hear the buzz of bees, a soft murmur beneath Hugh's words, like a constant background noise that she hadn't fully noticed before. She pieced together the details from their conversation, realizing that Hugh wasn't just talking about bees as if they were around him—they were inside him. Trapped within his very being, just like how darkness clung to her every movement.

As they continued their squabble, Adrenna found herself smiling, her lips curling up despite herself. Being so close to them, hearing the way they bickered and talked about their peculiarities as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world... It was comforting. The way they argued felt so natural, like friends who had known each other forever. It made her feel a warmth she hadn't experienced in years, a sense of normalcy she had almost forgotten existed.

Hugh kept walking, his shoulders tense and his brows furrowed as he muttered back at Millard. "How did you even persuade me into going to a freaking circus, anyway? We're supposed to be back at the house. If Miss Peregrine finds out, she'll—"

"She'll do exactly what she always does: frown disapprovingly and remind us about the importance of sticking to our routine," Millard replied, his voice tinged with humor. "You worry too much."

Hugh grunted in response, and for a moment, the two fell into silence, the night wrapping around them like a blanket. Adrenna couldn't help but let her smile widen. It felt like she was eavesdropping on a family—one that teased each other complained about rules, and somehow managed to make it all sound... normal. In that moment, she felt like she wasn't just an outsider lurking in someone else's shadow; she was part of something, if only for a brief while.

As they walked, the shadows around her thickened with the deepening night, and she let herself linger there, safe in the dark. Each time Hugh's pace faltered or Millard's voice dipped into a murmur, she listened, soaking in their words like she was drinking in sunlight after years in the dark. It was the first time in ages she had heard anyone talk about their peculiarities without disdain or fear.

As they stepped through the invisible barrier, a jarring shift rippled through the air, like passing from one world to another. Adrenna felt the change immediately—she had been wrapped in the comfort of night, the shadows clinging to her like a familiar friend. But now, the darkness vanished in an instant, replaced by an unnaturally bright, cloudless sky.

She flinched at the sudden intrusion of light, even though she remained safely nestled within Hugh's shadow. It felt too warm, too glaring, almost as if the sun had reached into her hiding place to burn her.

Hugh froze mid-step, a shudder running through him as if he had felt the same shock she did. The motion caused the bees inside him to stir anxiously, their buzzing growing louder. Millard, who was walking a few paces ahead, turned his invisible head toward Hugh and asked, "What is it? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I... I don't know," Hugh replied, his brows furrowing. He glanced over his shoulder as if trying to catch a glimpse of whatever had unsettled him, but he shook his head and kept walking. "It was... nothing, I think."

Adrenna stayed perfectly still, barely breathing as she listened. She hadn't meant to reveal herself, not even in the smallest of ways, but the light had caught her off guard. It was brighter here, even though she remained in Hugh's shadow—it was as if the sun itself was more intense in this strange place. It didn't feel like the earth she knew. It felt... different. Too perfect, too still. The air was tinged with a strange scent, almost like the day had been paused at its peak, never to fade into dusk.

As they continued walking, Millard let out a sigh of exasperation, clearly unconvinced by Hugh's explanation. "You're probably just jumpy from that circus. I told you, you have fears of clowns. Now come on, Miss Peregrine will be expecting us."

The mention of a name made Adrenna's heart skip a beat. Miss Peregrine. This was the second time, Millard said the name, he held it high like she was their guardian or parent. It sounded important, like a name she should know or one that carried weight in this peculiar world she had stepped into.

She kept to the shadows, letting Hugh's movements carry her closer to the large mansion that loomed ahead, its dark shape contrasting sharply against the bright sky. Her curiosity burned brighter with each step. She had never seen a place like this before—a grand house hidden in a world apart from her own, a sanctuary, perhaps, for people like her.

The mansion was an elegant blend of old-world charm and peculiar whimsy. Its dark stone walls were covered in creeping ivy that twisted and climbed with the determination of something alive. The façade was punctuated by tall, arched windows, framed in deep mahogany, that gleamed like polished gemstones in the bright daylight. Each window seemed to peer out with a life of its own, giving the sense that the house was watching, as aware and vigilant as its caretaker.

A steep, gabled roof crowned the structure, with chimneys poking out at odd angles, exhaling thin wisps of smoke that drifted lazily into the sky. Decorative spires jutted upwards, casting long, sharp shadows that danced over the mansion's stonework as the sunlight moved. The roof slates were a dark slate gray, almost black, adding to the stark contrast against the bright blue sky. The house itself had an aura of timelessness, as if it belonged both to the past and the present, caught in a moment outside of normal time.

The front entrance featured a set of wide oak doors, engraved with intricate carvings of birds in flight, their wings spread as if frozen mid-air. A wrought iron fence circled the property, but it was more decorative than defensive, its curving patterns flowing like the lines of a delicate script.

Beyond the fence, the grounds were lush with vibrant flowers and carefully trimmed hedges that formed mazes and spirals, giving the entire place a sense of organized chaos. There were statues scattered throughout the gardens—some of them on animals, their poses playful or solemn as if they were simply paused in their games.