dimensions | original

House of Earth

"Marge!" En called as she opened the creaky door to her house. For such a small woman she certainly has a loud voice, thought Luma, rubbing an ear.

"Yes Ma?" A voice belonging to someone Luma assumed was Marge responded with annoyance.

"We have a guest!"

A tall woman appeared in the hall, looking hopeful. Upon seeing Luma, her face fell and she sighed. "Really mother, another stray?"

Luma was barely listening, thinking instead. En's daughter was a tall black woman, nearly the opposite of her short, pale mother. It seemed somewhat unlikely that the two were blood mother and daughter.

"Ummm..." Luma struggled to find the right words. "Are you, um, related?"

Marge laughed. "Nope, I'm just as much a stray as you are."

"I found Marge in the streets one evening when she was just a baby. Took her in and raised as my own. She had nowhere to go." En said fondly.

"Oh." Luma figured she should make an attempt at being polite to her rescuers. "I'm sorry if I was rude."

"Oh no, sweetie, you're just fine." En reassured her. "It's a question I get all the time."

"Yep." Marge piped in. "Mom, should I show our guest upstairs?" Luma didn't like the way Marge acknowledged her, and frowned a little. I'm here you know, Luma grumped mentally.

"Sure sweetie, that'd be great."

"Okay, I'll show you around." Marge said to Luma kindly. "Oh, and what's your name?"

"Luma." said Luma.

"Loo-muh." said Marge dramatically, stressing the 'Lu.' Marge certainly seemed kind enough.

Luma half smiled. She wasn't sure whether she liked Marge or not. The older smiled and led Luma up the thin stairwell.

"Are there any other people living here besides you and En?" Luma asked with a small yawn.

"Nope. We help strays like you out from time to time, but no one stays longer than a month." answered Marge with a slight smile.

Marge showed the younger girl the well taken care of bathroom and guest room, and even the broom closet. The upstairs was cramped and crumbling, but Luma realized that it was because of age and not lack of cleaning. The rooms were all impossibly tidy. 

"You have a few minutes before dinner." Marge told Luma as she began to head towards the creaky stairs. "We'll both be downstairs if you need us."

Luma nodded in response, and Marge smiled at her and left the small guestroom. Immediately after she departed, Luma collapsed onto the creaky bed. She was tired and without Mark, but even so, her thoughts were of what to do next. Determination to get home still dominated her motives. 

The thought of home made her cry. Luma liked to think of herself as tough, and she certainly had perseverance, but inside she was just a child.

In a different dimension she waited in a strangers house, underneath the earth she once walked upon, in a different dimension. Unprepared for what is to happen next.

***

Mark woke up only to see a plain room. The smooth walls, ceiling, and floor were all a pale gray, with a darker gray door on the opposite side of the box shaped room.

Where in Dimensions am I? Mark shook his head in confusion, not understanding how he got to the box-like room. Standing up, he shakily stumbled towards the door. Although he had felt fine when he was sitting against the wall, now his legs felt like jelly, and they shook as he walked.

Upon reaching the door, he ran his fingers over the cold iron surface. The smooth, glassy texture of the door was marred by a strange symbol. But that engravement was no stranger to Mark.

Oddly, he felt not the panic that he believed he would face, but a slow, creeping feeling of dread.

At last, after years, decades even, they had caught him.

Mark sat, right there in front of the door, and thought. If this is one of their prison cells... They've got someone watching me. A camera, maybe.

Indeed, as Mark looked around, he noticed the small, grey camera in the ceiling corner to the right of the door. Of course.

The boy took a deep breath. Staring straight up at the camera, he narrowed his scarlet eyes and scowled in an almost threatening way.

"Come in."

It took roughly five seconds for a response. 

The iron door that Mark was sitting in front of swung open. Caught by surprise, Mark is knocked aside and slides into the left corner. As the door is pushed open, it blocks the left corner from the camera's view, and temporarily conceals Mark from whomever might have opened the door.

Steadying his breath, Mark thinks quickly of his old enemies. It's got to be Kinglyn and Marsha.

He was right. And yet, he was wrong. 

"Matchitehew." A familiar voice demands. Kinglyn.

The door is slammed shut, revealing Mark, who was hiding behind the door, trying to think of a suitable plan. Mark finds himself staring straight at Kinglyn, a familiar enemy, and a young, teenage girl dressed solely in silver, black, and purple.

"Hiding behind a door?" The girl asked him, smirking. "How cowardly." Mark ignores her words, too busy wondering what happened to Marsha, and examining the new Hunter instead.

She had messy black hair, cut short in a loose bob, complete with bangs. Her eyes were a dark brown, so deep it was almost black. Her skin was a brown color, smooth and freckle-free. The mystery girl smirked, raising her eyebrows at his searching gaze. A pale blush covered Mark's cheek, and he averted his gaze, but not before noticing that there was even a silver piercing in her left eyebrow.

"Ahem." Mark jerked his eyes towards Kinglyn, who had cleared his throat.

"How did you escape? For that was to be impossible."

"I did not." Mark answered honestly, knowing that they wouldn't believe a word he said.

"Perhaps you thought you didn't." The girl spoke again, taking his words into consideration, much to Mark's surprise. "But the magic ties holding you in place have disappeared."

"Mark, before I found we again, you were truly free." she said, her level voice breaking a little bit. "But it cannot last."

Mark felt no anger, only shock and sorrow.

"Society cannot allow werewolves be free."