World of Make-Believe: Chelsea's Story

A Mild Truce

It wasn't the nauseating smell of cold grease coming from her all meat pizza that woke her, or the creak of the bedroom door closing. It wasn't the tap of feet up the stairs, the whispered goodbye, or the flutter of wings and clicking of clawed finger tips. Not even the thwack of horns on the doorframe. Chelsea was so exhausted that the sensation of unfamiliar eyes peeking from around unfamiliar corners and crevices to watch her slumber didn't penetrate the shroud of her sleep.

What made her jolt upright with a gasp was a jittering rumble; a glittering vibration of magic that shot past the gaps in the door. A blinding white the slithered past the foliage and down the hall, twisting and snaking through the darkness to wind under the closed door and flash blood red against blackened lids. With a shout Chelsea leapt awake, blankets tangled around legs, pizza box falling to the floor, heart trembling in her throat.

Something was wrong. She knew that immediately; the room was too dark.

The room was too dark.

Panicked eyes sought the doorway and terror rose higher at the light and shadows dancing under the gap. Open. She had to force her body to slide off the bed, bare feet touching the wooden floors, shrinking at the cold shooting up her skin followed by a wake of chicken flesh. Open, open, open, open.

One step and a wide leap. Her hand fisted around the knob, yanking the door open only to be assaulted by a wave of magic that spilled over; splashing across the walls leaving a taste of something more. Something missing.

"Devon?" She poked her head out of the room before rushing to pull her jeans back on, slinging her back pack over her shoulder, not bothering with her shoes before heading to the door down the hall. "Devon, you wouldn't."

Part of her raged at the idea of being left behind, looking at the magic spilling forth, like water flowing over the edge of a sink. He'd left her. Chelsea didn't stop her teeth from worrying at her cheek, the tender skin flaying and tearing as she stepped forward into the room. The plants themselves seemed to be aware of her presence, breathing as she approached the door, wrapping up and around.

"Oh no you don't." Chelsea shoved her foot against the frame, propping her back against the door to stop it from closing as she looked down into the portal unable to comprehend exactly what she was seeing.

Creatures flitting between shadow and humanoid, bird and smoke, descending upon the fae in the fairy ring and retreating as magic met them. Frantically Chelsea's eyes roved the battle field to find Devon standing at the edge of the ring, various other fae by his side, his hands dancing as his magic moved in flurries to join the others in a protective barrier. He looked pale, too pale beneath the green and gold of his skin, at his back lay a heap of motionless and terrified fae. The door pressed harder against her, vines tickled against her skin, pushing gently - shoving her. Her toes slipped, crunching against the wooden frame, tingling as they passed into the portal. Chelsea swallowed hard as the magic pooled and swirled around her ankles.

The bird shifters fell and swooped back up. Over and over, relentless and so many. The sky was darkened with them. They pelted the barriers, fell against any who weren't protected. One unlucky faun was grabbed by the shoulders, the shadow demon luring something grey and misty from the fae's body as it grew pale and limp.

"Fuckface!" was the war cry that preceded the magic that zapped the creature, forcing it to flee with a shriek of pain. Devon slid beside the faun, cradling it in his arms as he ran back to safety.

But not fast enough.

Four. Four of them descended upon Devon, already weakened and tired. Four pulled at the grey mist within his body, faun fallen yards away - forgotten. Chelsea leapt, the portal tilted to meet her, the ground sliding up beneath her feet causing instant vertigo. Still she couldn't let that stop her.