At the Crossroads. Book 1

Chapter 10

You fall through. It gobbles you up, the whatever this is. Darkness. Emptiness. Nothingness. You pat your chest and press your palm to the middle. Maze didn't grab your card, did he? You tap your fingers, and yet won't risk checking. You can't even see your own hands. Your ears get clogged.

Photo via Ivana Franke

Still falling.

You move your arms and legs about, but that does nothing. You gasp for breath and clutch your temples. No panicking. Calm down. Think.

"Maze made his weird gesture," you say out loud. "So this must be his special power. Which card was he again?"

The Judgement. Yes, the Judgement it was.

"Ouch!" It comes out of nowhere. You hit the ground and roll several times. Pain pierces your leg, and you pull your knees to your chest. Blood. You see nothing, but it feels wet and warm on your fingers.

And the darkness fades. Just like that, you're lying on the floor, and walls take shape around you. It's a kitchen with cupboards and a table in the middle. Memories stir at the back of your head. You sit up and find yourself in the doorway.

Footsteps sound behind – you dive to the side... Huh? This person goes right through you, they don't notice a thing. You feel sick and gulp to keep it in.

Breathe.

They leave the room for a moment and enter the second time through you too. This person fetches some bowls and puts them on the counter, then bustles around the fridge. They're but a dark, blurry figure. You can't make out their face. They go about their morning routine as if you weren't there. You aren't there really, right?

You... recognise them. Your family. Can't remember anything else, you feel that you know them and this is it. And they clearly can't see you. And the kitchen has one chair less.

Nobody's noticed that you've disappeared.

The room ripples, and fades into mist. It thins out the next second, you blink and squint into the dark room. It's evening, and the lights are off. A classroom. The teacher sighs and lays down her glasses. Otherwise, the room's empty. She slams the class register shut and puts it into the drawer.

Why is she here? You scramble to your feet and shuffle closer. She disintegrated, disappeared right in front of your very eyes! Or did she? That was real... right? You didn't dream it... The stranger, cards, portals, Lars and the Wands...

Who... is Lars again?

"This is not real..." you mutter and close your eyes. "Not real. Maze did this to me. Maze did this..."

Who... is Maze again?

The classroom fades, and you whirl your head around. Your home. This time you're standing in the living room, and a hazy figure lies on the sofa. They've draped their legs over the armrest. Like usual. They used to do it every evening, when you would return from school–

The door opens.

"Hi!" says someone as they take their shoes and jacket off and leave those in the hall.

"Welcome back," says the person and waves from the sofa. The familiar flick of the wrist cuts into your memory. It hurts.

No. This isn't real. You clutch your temples and shake your head to get it out.

That other person steps in. You don't breathe.

Your face. Your body. They smile and wave to the person on the sofa and pass through you. They fucking look exactly like you! Every tiny mole is in place as your eyes trace along their body. This isn't happening. It doesn't! You suffocate and crumble to your knees.

They don't notice. You scream. They talk. You thrash about. No!

Replaceable.

Disposable.

You hear those words boom in your head. Nothing else, the room grows brighter and brighter as the voice becomes louder.

Disposable. You're nothing special, so it's easy to replace you. Nobody's noticed. They're treating your stand-in just the same. Or were you... the stand-in?

You scream. They laugh together. You cry and choke, and thrash about on the floor. Disposable. Not special. Can't breathe anymore.

"... and then I had..." They have the same voice as you. Not a single intonation is different. You can almost guess what they'll say next because you would have said the exact same thing.

Please... No! You choke and clutch your throat.

"Hey, easy. Easy," soothes a male voice.

You freeze but don't stir. There's no way he's talking to you. Your eyes are shut, you can't watch the other you anymore.

A tap on your shoulder.

"A-ah!" you yell and roll back.

Blue eyes glow so close to your face. "This is not real," he tells you and grabs your shoulders. The black half of a mask has a metallic glower about it. "Not real. A bad dream, a nightmare." You struggle to break free, and he shakes you and holds firmly in place. "Not. Real." He pulls you up to your feet. You notice the other you settle on the sofa. "Now we wake up."

This man crushes you to his chest. His black cape is secured with an engraved pin. Large shoulder plates. He places his palm on the back of your head, so you press your cheek against his suit. It has so many metal buttons. Your tears dry and leave behind ghost traces.

"Hold on," he whispers. His chin rests on top of your head.

You wrap your arms around his waist and close your eyes. And the room shatters.