Chapter 1: The Lightning Dream

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The boy's head sat in the leaves like some sort of terrible nightmare. Yes, I am now dead, his wide, blank eyes seemed to say. Somehow, he was still just as handsome as before.

Carson was staring down at his hands, which were covered in a translucent goo that held an iridescent sheen. "Should've brought some towels," he muttered, clicking his tongue.

"What is that?" I asked, pointing to the fluid staining the leaf-covered grass, still shining like ghost eyes. Sniffing, Carson knelt down to wipe his sword and hands on the ground. Afterwards, he stood up, dusting the knees of his wet jeans.

"This is ectoplasm. It's a nasty side effect of dealing with shadow demons," Carson explained, not unkindly. He sheathed his sword and a few seconds later, it shrunk into a small ruby ring. Carefully, Carson slid the ruby onto his left ring finger, like he was married to it.

I looked at him for a while. His tall, lithe frame covered in the essence of shadow demons, then back to the smoking, soiled grass again. The grass that he murdered Nathaniel on.

This couldn't be happening. How could a person be decapitated in broad daylight? It just didn't make any sense. Someone driving along the road would see, someone walking their dog, a tourist from out of town- I mean, literally anyone.

But the parking lot was empty, as was the sidewalk that barred the school from the open street. The white-trimmed Colonial Revival houses on the other side were devoid of life, their curtains drawn shut, front yards barren. It felt as if every human being had suddenly disappeared off the face of the earth, and there was just me, stuck in a nightmare like always.

I heard a dull, sizzling noise and looked down at Nathaniel's head, which was disintegrating at a rapid pace. I stared into his lifeless eyes as his head melted into a foul-smelling, silvery mist. It mixed with the natural autumn fog in angry swirls, like it was still a living, growling thing protesting its demise.

"Are you okay there?" I was too transfixed by the horror of what I just saw, and what I would never unsee. So when Carson touched my shoulder, I recoiled as if burned.

"Don't touch me."

His face screwed up as if my reaction physically pained him. "Is that the thanks I get for saving your life? Talk about ungrateful."

"What did you expect? You just killed someone," I reminded him, waving my hand at the burning grass.

He cast an uncaring look at the burnt patches of grass that were once Nathaniel. "He's not a person, he's a demon."

I waved my hand towards the headless corpse, burning a few feet away from us with wide eyes. It was like the smell of burnt meat, only fouler. I tried not to gag. "He looks pretty human to me."

"Well, he isn't," Carson insisted. "He just appears that way. Underneath that human skin, he's nothing but darkness."

Like the head, the corpse melted into vapor as well, mixing with the low-hanging clouds. The smell was fading, and the crime scene was cleaning itself up, leaving no evidence at all.

"What's wrong?" Carson asked, as if this whole ordeal was nothing to him. I didn't know how to express my alarm other than to stare at him incredulously, hoping he would understand. But he wasn't a mind reader.

I took a step back from him, contemplating my chances of running for my life. Considering his long legs and graceful agility, they weren't great.

I just couldn't understand why this was happening. All I knew was that it was a long-time coming, like some long foretold prophecy that was finally being set in motion. I had the distinct feeling that I was meant to stumble upon this unseen part of the world, that I was meant to meet this boy in such a horrifying way, and that suddenly my life was not entirely my own. That it belonged to fate instead.

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