Chapter 3: The Black Veil
The morning fog hung low over the lawn, muting colors into a watercolor wash. Chyna stood in the backyard barefoot, the grass damp beneath her heels, arms crossed over a hoodie two sizes too big—her dad's.
The house still stood, mostly. The front was untouched, and her bedroom—miraculously—had been spared. But from here, where the kitchen wall had buckled outward, the damage looked worse. The siding peeled like sunburnt skin, and the air still smelled like scorched copper and plastic.
She took a step closer.
The air shimmered—not with heat, but with something else. Like oil on water. It rippled, barely visible, threading through the ruins of the garage and kitchen corner like veins of light in the ash.
Chyna blinked hard. The strands didn't vanish.
She knelt, brushing her fingers over a spot where the grass had been fused into black glass. A whisper, faint and electric, seemed to pulse under her skin.
You were always meant to see.
She jerked her hand back.
The wind stirred. Somewhere overhead, a crow cried once, sharp as a blade.
She stood, suddenly aware of her pulse—fast, erratic.
She didn't believe in signs. Dreams, maybe. Symbols if you wanted to get literary. But this? This was... visible. Felt.
She glanced toward the corner of the house where the fire had first sparked. A melted Christmas decoration still hung by a half-charred ribbon—an angel, now headless.
The silence felt different here.
Not empty.
Watching.
The clinic smelled like lemon disinfectant and quiet dread.
Chyna trailed behind Joey as they stepped into Room 3. The walls were too white. The silence pressed in, just thick enough to make breathing feel like a choice.
Maria lay propped up in bed, one hand curled protectively over Carly, who slept like a bundled-up kitten at her side. Katherine stood near the foot of the bed, arms folded, her face unreadable.
Joey hesitated at the door before stepping in. "She's asleep?"
"Only just," Katherine said. "Her fever's gone down."
Chyna moved to the window, peeking between the blinds. "She said anything?"
Katherine didn't answer right away. "Some names. Mostly yours. Some things I didn't recognize."
"She was calling for Dad," Joey said. "Before she passed out."
Katherine looked at him, expression softening for half a second. "He'd be proud of you."
Joey shifted, uncomfortable with the weight of that.
Chyna turned, arms still crossed. "You're taking this calmly."
Katherine's mouth tightened. "You grow up fast when you know things can change overnight."
Chyna stepped closer. "How fast?"
Katherine gave a short laugh with no humor in it. "Fast enough to prepare, not fast enough to stop anything."
Joey frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means," Katherine said, voice low, "there are things you're better off not knowing yet."
"Yet?" Chyna asked.
YOU ARE READING
The Five Realms
FanfictionJoey Jackson, a quiet teen with a stubborn sense of hope, is haunted by the mysterious disappearance of his father during a supernatural fire at their family estate. When a shadowy figure emerges from the smoke-and a long-lost teacher delivers a cry...
