Terror. A dimension mirroring the living one--but morphed to reflect the imagination of its Overseer. And the current Overseer... has refused to relinquish her power for centuries, tormenting her souls--"terrors"--into becoming... zombies.
Arielle f...
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The Being. Bright, powerful, knowledgeable. Arielle wasn't sure what she'd been expecting to see; an elderly man with a Santa Claus-like beard and a soft smile as he twisted his moustache? A being with wings and a heavenly halo? He wasn't God; there was no God. This creature was Penelope's counterpart, the balance to her heat, the opposite of her terror. And he'd come to stop her.
This Being was tall, limber, with a youthful appearance. Though it was hard to tell for sure, as his skin was so white it seemed transparent, he might have been around Arielle's age. His pure white clothes created a spotlight around him, and he sparkled, an iridescent snowflake in an obscure forest.
The only sign of age—though probably caused by exhaustion—were the pronounced lines creasing around his ice-blue eyes.
"So... forgive me for appearing a bit dispersed; I'm communicating with Penelope in the house, you see. A bit of whispering in her head; a favorite power of hers that I also possess. A means to keep tabs on her and know what she's doing as we formulate a plan, out here."
Arielle's jaw dropped—that was some serious multitasking. "You're talking to her? Right now?"
With a nod, he peered at each of the terrors lined up before him, having waited as they introduced themselves. "Arielle, Benny, Jade, and Oscar. Nice to have names. And pleased to meet you." His voice was pleasant, but not chipper. One could tell he'd been talking a lot, as if his vocal cords were strained, overworked. "It's good to get the pleasantries out of the way, so we can get down to business."
"Business," said Jade, having introduced herself as the de-facto leader. Arielle didn't disagree—she'd been in Terror the longest, and Penelope had been traumatizing her for years. If anyone deserved to make the decisions and confront Penelope, it was Jade.
But Arielle knew her too well. She saw the cracks in her strong facade, she caught the subtle trembling of her chin when she spoke, and the hesitation in her words. She wouldn't show it, proud, stubborn as she was. But Jade was afraid, and she'd led them this far to find that no one knew what would happen. The end—if there was one—was up in the air.
"So how do we do this?" Oscar squinted at the Being, his nostrils flaring. He was wary, still; the Being had spent much time scrutinizing him, and Arielle imagined he hadn't been too fond of that. "She's too strong. I've never seen her this agitated."
Jade snorted. "You wouldn't know, Oscar." She side-glared at him. "You never come here and didn't want to come here to begin with, remember?"
If caring about the obvious discord between Jade and Oscar—a silent, lingering resentment of one another, a fight between who knew the most and who better deserved to lead them, Arielle assumed—the Being turned halfway towards the wall of flames. "She is strong and agitated, yes. But there are ways to weaken her, and your arrival may have given me a few ideas. Her goal is a dense population, so if she loses inhabitants... it'll agitate her further."
