dimensions | original

Steel Cell

No, that wasn't a typo. Mark is a werewolf of some sorts. (After all, he is immortal and has strange powers. What did you expect?)

As narrator of this tale, I figured I'd clear that up. Ahem.

Back to the story.

"Society is messed up." Mark shot back at the girl.

Kinglyn released a short barking laugh. "That's why we're trying not to damage it further by letting dangerous uncivilized werewolves run havoc."

The girl frowned, not listening. "Kinglyn, a word?"

What about? Mark used his telepathic powers, trying to freak them out.

They, however, were not impressed. Obviously they knew about his telepathic strength.

"Really, Matchitehew? You cannot fool us with your mind alone." Kinglyn told him sternly, almost as if he was a parent scolding a naughty child.

If I could, I'd be gone.

"Kinglyn." the girl said again, tugging on his sleeve. Kinglyn turned, a tad impatiently, and raised an eyebrow.

She gave him a meaningfully vicious look, and jerked her head towards the door, mouth pressed into a straight line. Kinglyn tipped his head in the slightest way, and he slides his hand to the fingerprint sensor on the door. The door slips open, and the two begin to exit.

"Wait!" The word burst from Mark's lips. They both turned, curious looks on their faces.

"What's your name?" He said, looking the girl in the eyes.

Surprised she blinked then whispered, "Asha. Asha Arora."

Mark's eyes widened. Asha. The girl from Luma's dream. It made sense now. Asha had to hunt him, and track him down as to not let 'uncivilized werewolves run havoc.'

But how would Luma know? It was too accurate and strange to be a coincidence.

What was Luma hiding?

***

The door slide open, but this time only Kinglyn appeared.

"Matchitehew."

"Please don't."

"Mark." Kinglyn tried again.

"Yes."

"There was a girl with you."

Mark said nothing, hoping that this wasn't leading towards Luma's capture.

"The hunter that caught you, Miss Arora, did some research. There is an... Interesting lead she found."

"No. She is an insignificant human that just chanced upon the island of my slavery. She means nothing." Although Mark suspected that she was more than he originally thought, she was still innocent of his problems, and he didn't want her to be dragged into this mess.

"I really am sorry, Mark." A feeling of intense dread overcame Mark. What was Kinglyn going to do?

So many questions, and yet no answers to be found.

Without another word, Kinglyn exited once more.

Immediately after his departure a device came out of the camera in the corner.

And from that sprung a small dart with a sharp point soaked in a rare customized potion, designed to make the receiver's recent memories' accessible by the sender.

You see, Mark's captors always have their way.

***

Awkwardly Luma sat around the rickety wooden table in the small kitchen of En's home. While the food was good and both En and Marge were kind and hospitable, Luma had a nervous, flighty feeling about her- she felt as if danger was coming.

"En?" Luma said hesitantly.

"Yes, sweetie?"

"Do you know of an easy, pain-free way for me to get back to the human dimension?"

En chuckled. "Oh, sweetie, it's not always that simple. How did you exit your dimension?"

Luma froze. "I... I don't know." The girl paused, recalling the ethereal storm that had whisked her away. "It was a storm of some sort. I've never seen anything quite like it."

Again, the girl considered the situation. Something deep in the back of her mind clicked. "A shard storm." Luma blurted out. She didn't know what it was, but it seemed familiar, and she knew it was correct.

Marge, who had been staying quiet with her head down now raised her eyes to meet Luma's.

"You're from the human dimension, and you know what a shard storm is?"

"No. I don't." Luma answered honestly. "It just came to me."

En frowned. "Luma, sweetie... Shard storms are uncommon in the human world. They happen rarely and when they do, it's in very remote locations. There are only a few books on the subject, and it's considered by science a rare phenomenon. The only advice on what to do in a shard storm is to hold still." En paused, and sighed. "Scientists don't know why you have to hold still as to not be cut, but magic has revealed that the glass 'shards' contain souls of those long gone and thirsty for life. Does any of this sound familiar?"

Luma frowned. "No."

"Then I don't know why you would have said shard storm."

"But there were glass pieces."

"Were you cut?" asked Marge curiously.

"No." Luma answered. I would think that I'd notice if I was cut by a piece of glass supposedly carrying souls of those 'thirsty for life,' thought Luma sarcastically.

"I wouldn't worry about it then." Marge concluded.

Luma wanted to believe her, but she couldn't help but notice how silent En had become.

"En?"

"Yes, sweetie?"

"I... Nevermind." Luma felt tired, and couldn't quite remember what she was about to ask. It felt almost as if some part of her brain had taken an eraser to the rising suspicions that she had felt not long ago.

Being the teller of this tale, I know things that our heroine doesn't. And like I have said previously, she was cut by a glass piece in the shard storm. And like I have said previously, the glass contained the soul of a dangerous and powerful prophet. Phoenix is not a man to be messed with, even in spirit.

And indeed, his power is growing, ever so surely. Enough to manipulate Luma's mind.

Not fully, of course, but she is in danger.

If only she would ever realize it.