Something Strange

Willow

There’s something strange all around. I can feel it hanging heavy in the air like a corpse from a tree branch. I stand beneath a canopy of evergreens. Soft firelight, partially obscured by the cover of trees illuminates my little clearing. A flutter of wings beats against my ears in a soft drumbeat. I snap my head down to the sound of landing little feet. A barn owl stands on the ground three feet from me. Slowly I bend down and extend my forearm. It hops up onto my arm, talons sinking deep enough to draw little rubies of blood. I bring it close to my face. Our eyes meet. It twists its head around. I reach out and place my hand over it's face, feeling the cool surface of its sharp beak. Gently but firmly I pull its head back around. “You have nothing to fear,” I breathe like the whisper of a winter breeze. “I won’t harm you.” It cocks its head, round eyes staring into my blue ones. It knows something. It’s trying to tell me something. “Willow we need you,” Rylan calls from the campfire, her voice joking. Laughter erupts from her and Freya, the only other people in these woods just now. “Come back to the fire!” I don't answer her, instead I keep on watching the owl, desperate to collect whatever knowledge it's holding captive. “What do you know?" It straightens its head back up, steps one, two, three, foot to foot, along my arm. Perhaps it’s trying to tell me about the world. I think it’s crumbling, about to cave in on itself. There’s something lurking on the horizon, and it will end lives. It will take so many souls from so many bodies, bursting them open like chests full of treasure. My heart soars at the thought, and it’s one of the strangest things I’ve ever felt. Perhaps it’s trying to tell me about me. About the strangeness I feel expanding from deep within myself like a ghostly ocean. I might just drown in it soon. Or maybe I'll breathe it down like a breath of fresh air. Unable to unlock the doors behind the owl’s eyes, I throw it up into the air, and watch as it flies away into the night sky.

Rylan

Orange light flickers against each of our faces as we sit around a small fire in a little clearing of the woods. Willow’s parents own fourteen acres of this forest, so we know we’re alone. We sit in a roaring silence, so strong I can feel it reaching deep inside my heart. The atmosphere dropped when Willow re-emerged from beyond the trees. I’m not sure what went wrong, but her mood is like winter, cool and subdued. Freya and I had been enjoying ourselves, our laughter spilling into the air and twinkling like starlight. That’s exactly how I expected it to continue when Willow returned. But instead we felt her darkened mood like a frigid breeze and let it settle deep beneath our skin. “Do you think there’s any point in finishing high school,” I blurt out, and instantly regret it. Freya finally pries her eyes away from Willow, who she’s been staring at ever since Willow came back to the fire, and looks at me, face full of worry. “No,” Willow answers, voice monotone as she stares into the fire. “Why,” Freya asks, voice straining against the height of her emotions. “We don’t know anything for sure yet... I’m sure it will be worth it to graduate.” “But-,” I start and then stop, unsure if I should finish the sentence. “What,” Freya asks. I take a deep breath, let it out, and wait another moment, my stomach tensing up in a ball of nerves. There's been news of something horrible coming. A third world war, spurred on by hatred and greed as wars always are. People are afraid this one will finally end our reality. “Do you really think the world’s gonna end,” I let the question out, and it lingers for a moment, weighed down by my worried voice. “Yes,” Willow says in the same tone as before. Freya snaps her attention back to Willow, brow pulled together with something that almost looks like anger. But then her face softens and she says nothing. My heart tenses. I've always relied on her to be the one to bring us back down to Earth. The voice of reason. The fact that she's not arguing against Willow is greatly unsettling to me. They stare into each other’s eyes for several long breaths in a way that almost makes me wonder if they know something I don't. Willow finally turns her eyes back to the fire. Freya keeps on staring, as if trying to open Willow up and discover all her secrets. There’s something off, but I just can’t quite grasp hold of what it is.

Death

As sisters we watch over the world. Death and Life. Gently we stroke hands over Earth, hers seen as wonderful and lovely, mine seen as rotting and evil. I take pride in my hands, though, as does my sister. Why should I care about the opinions of human creatures? I, by my sister’s side, will always rule them through the many loops and turns of Time. We stand side by side, the earth all encompassing, surrounding us in its great depth and beautiful intricacies. And yet, it is also a small ball that sits in the palms of our hands. A toy, held in a grasp firm enough to break it, yet always with enough caution to leash that strength. We see everyone and everything. So many souls. I pluck them up and away as Life brings them back into new bodies, or brings in newly created souls whenever it seems fit. Lives stream past, blurring into vibrant, fine strands of color. Two people asleep in bed, one must come to me. I scoop her up. A skunk, its nose held close to the dirt. Its time is soon. The world weaves all around me, quick and slow as it often is, until I snag on a moment that would otherwise be insignificant to me if not for the girl with long pale hair and blue eyes. For her, the sun is asleep and golden firelight flickers across her blank face. She sits with two other girls, one who can see and one who cannot, her soul blocked from truths. “Sister,” I say, voice soft like moonlight, "look.” She turns her head, opposite my direction, looking through her own lens at the girl. “Reaper,” she breathes. “Yes.” There hasn’t been a human blessed by our mother in a long while. I glide my hand down, sweep it gently over the girl's head, knowing I'm meant to gift her a bit of myself. She notices my presence immediately, eyes widening and head tilting toward her dark sky. A sneaking shadow of a smile creeps to her lips. I look to my sister, she’s already watching me, briefly paused in her own work. We meet each other’s eyes for a moment before she turns away again, looking at the other girl. It’s not just the reaper or the one who sees that interests us. I watch from the corner of my eye as my sister gently dips her hand down the way I just did for the reaper. I let the world swirl around me again, taking in all the moments that are about to end at my hand. I turn without stopping the river of souls and catch Life's eye. For another moment we pause, feeling the bridge between our two beings, strong as it’s always been. We turn back to our work, knowing just who those three girls are and what they'll mean. They play so heavily into Mother’s great cycle that for a moment it felt as if they were all that existed within Earth’s grasp. With them, the new phase begins. Together we watch as our mother sets into motion the beginning of the of the end of the world. And our hands creep closer.

Rylan

Willow's house stands to our rights. A golden field expands into the distance at our fronts. A strip of forest stretches to our lefts, obscuring the top of a large hill, and what lies just a mile beyond it. The early morning air is filled with smoke. The earth rumbles beneath our feet with the falling of another bomb. It hurts, almost physically, as if I can feel the lives it’s stealing away. Hundreds. Hundreds of people are dying just beyond that hill. “This is real,” I whisper, my breath drowning in a river of panic. It's been three weeks since we sat around a fire and our worries have now come to fruition. The war has just begun. Willow steps behind us, the gentle rustle of her footsteps through the tall grass nothing but an oddity among the rumbles and distant screams. I turn to Freya, my face contorted with fear. “This is really happening right?” She twists her head, the tendons in her neck flexing as looks beyond her shoulder. “Yes,” she says, voice flat, defeated. Freya’s staring at Willow, who’s turned toward the hill, a strange look on her face. It’s subtle, but there’s peace there, along with something else. She almost looks excited, and it seems so out of place, so wrong considering the current events, that I feel it sending me all the way to the edge of terror. “Something's happening,” Freya whispers. She’s several steps closer to me, her face barely a foot from mine. Another bomb drops. Sets a ringing in my ears and a jagged vibration rattling up through the souls of my feet. An ember glow flashes through the left side of forest, its rage nothing but static in my damaged ears. Bullets explode from guns beyond the hill. They pummel the air and strangle my heart. “Yeah," is all I can think to say. “You should brace yourself,” she says softly, breath tickling my ear. I tense, thoughts slamming to a stop, expecting a bomb to fall on us any second, but nothing happens. She can see something that I cannot, I realize. She knows something. Something terrifying. “Willow,” Freya breathes. She turns her head, eyes sliding to her right. I turn my head as well, and all I see is Willow. Willow standing in her family’s field, golden grass caressing her bare legs, tall enough to stroke little fingers across her arms. Strong winds dance around her. They fling her long hair across her face and snap it back up off her shoulders to reveal her features. My chest tightens. A broadening smile creeps along her lips. An owl soars through the sky, its long, white wings cutting through the smoke. Another bomb drops. Orange light flashes in my peripheral vision, a blazing fire coming toward us. I open up my mouth, eyes widening, a scream racing up my throat, but the world falls out from under me before I can get it out. And then I’m consumed by darkness.

A muted purple glow swallows the entire landscape. A fire still burns through the forest, silent despite its great size, it’s orangish glow a dull, sickly tone. There are other people here. My breath snags deep within my chest. Two men near the forest’s edge. One crouches over the other. I watch, with a barely contained scream pressing against my lungs, as fat red droplets fly into the air, vibrant and sparkling against the muted backdrop. The one who's crouching repeatedly stabs a knife into the other's chest. I can feel his life slipping from the victim's prone form. It’s draining like sand through a barely cupped hand. A frown twists my lips. It seems so very strange that I can feel someone else’s life as it blows away on an all consuming wind. And yet there’s a perfectness to it that I can’t quite describe. Something right about it. Something telling me I could grab onto his soul and bottle it back up into its former cage of bones. And yet…an explosion rattles the world, blurring the scenery and finally letting my trapped scream rip through my throat in a violent escape. Flames, like shooting stars streak across the sky. Five crash to the field in front of me, and set fire to the grass. I watch as Freya stumbles from the forest, smacking a hungry flame eating away at the hem of her shorts. I turn slowly and catch sight of Willow. Her arms are raised overhead, long hair billowing out behind her, glowing like moonlight on snow. A grin splits her face. Her blue eyes sparkle like gems. She spins slowly around and around. My stomach twists. It looks like she’s dancing. I turn again, so that my back is to the forest. There’s about ten people a little ways ahead, all near Willow's house. I hadn’t noticed any screams before, but now they beat against my ears. They’re doing terrible things to each other. Some to themselves. A man leaps from high up on Willow’s roof. I suck in a sharp breath. I can almost hear as his bones are snapped and his organs crushed. A woman snags a handgun from somewhere among the grass, and takes aim. The bullet slams through a man’s skull as he runs toward Willow’s house. Someone tackles the woman with the gun to the ground. I can’t see her through the tall grass, but when the woman who tackled her raises a rock high in the air and slams it down I know she's gone. I can feel it tearing at my heart. I catch something falling in the corner of my eye. I don’t have time to comprehend what it is before Willow’s house explodes, sending three people flying backwards through the air. A shriek bursts from my lungs. All but two charred walls of her house remain and they groan as they too begin to fall. At least five people turn toward me and stare, as if reeled in by the sound of my scream. Golden fissures open up all across the purple tinged sky. An all encompassing panic wraps itself around my mind, narrowing my thoughts down to nothing but the oncoming danger. The world’s gone quiet like a snow-covered forest at night. Slowly I turn back around, even as my heart pounds and something tells me I shouldn’t turn my back on the people. Footsteps pound into the earth and they seem like bullets shooting from guns in an otherwise still world. Freya crashes into me, words spilling from her mouth in a panicked stream as she grips my upper arms so tight I can feel her fingernails cutting into my flesh. I can’t tell what she’s saying, it just sounds like a voice and nothing more. And so I stare, heartbeat crashing in my ears like ocean waves in a hurricane. One, two, three, four seconds pass by. A minute. And then finally I hear just a few words as she screams them into the small space between us. “Get us out!” And then I breathe down a breath that seems to keep on coming, my lungs expanding until I’m as light as the air. I reach up and grab her upper arms. My face collapses into an ugly display of rage. “I can’t,” I scream into her face. “Why would you say that,” I keep screaming. “I can’t do anything! This is really happening.” Right? The thought whispers across my mind that maybe it isn't. “What could I possibly do,” I ask, my voice quiet and heavy with anger. Footsteps rip through the grass behind me, thunder against the earth and fill up my ears. Freya opens up her mouth and yells. But I can’t hear what she says, because all I can hear are the sounds of five people’s pounding feet as they swarm us like angry bees. It looks like she might be saying yes, though. Yes, you can get us out. Something creeps, like little spider's feet, all the way into my brain. My eyes widen. Hands grab me from behind. Maybe this isn’t real. It almost feels as if my mind is trapped inside someone else's. And then the terror commences. They swallow me with flurries of grasping hands and random attacks of fists and feet. I turn opposite Freya and without hesitating I slam my fist into the nose of a man about a foot taller than I am. Blood flies. Pain spasms down my knuckles and into my wrist like a shockwave. He stumbles back. And he’s falling, but I don’t have time to watch him hit the ground before someone grabs me and slams their fist into my face. I stumble back. Watch as stars spark before my eyes and feel as violent blows are taken to my back and stomach. I can hardly breathe when they keep knocking the air from my lungs. I yank away and punch a woman in her throat. She crumples and it's then that I catch a bright gleam in corner of my eye. I turn to see a long knife clutched tight in Freya’s hand as she stands somehow still amidst the chaos. I grab her wrist. I snag the knife from her and send her stumbling back a few steps. The man I struck in the nose still lies among the grass, but the rest smother me in violence. The only sound is our ragged breathing. It roars into my ears. My heart pounds against my ribs, so hard it feels as if they might break. I stop thinking, my mind consumed by nothing but reactions as I slam the knife straight down into a woman’s chest and pull it out only to swipe it across a man’s throat a second later. Someone kicks me hard in the back, sends me sprawling next to the woman’s body. I hardly even notice her blood soaking through my shirt as I spring back up. I duck, dodging a woman’s fist before opening up a gash along her neck. The man in front of me slams into me and I stumble before twisting from his grip. He turns, but isn’t fast enough to get ahead of my knife as it slams through his ribcage. Someone grabs my shoulder from behind, and there’s barely a thought in my head when I turn so fast my hair whips into my face and send my knife straight into her stomach. I stop, frozen in place. I open up my mouth and struggle to breathe as I stare into Freya’s face. Her eyes are open so very wide, the brown of them gleaming like amber. Her lips are pulled down as a terrible pain contorts her face. And then I scream, my mouth opening so wide my jaw hurts as the sound flies from my lungs like a thousand angry ravens. She starts to fall so I grab her with my free hand and pull the knife back out and drop it to the ground before realizing I probably shouldn’t have touched it. I kneel, holding her just slightly off the ground. “Freya, Freya,” I say frantically. She stares at me, her hand against my upper arm, her grip getting lighter and lighter as the life slowly drains from her body. “I’m so sorry, I’m so…” I trail off as her eyes roll to the sky. Thunder booms, the sound so loud it rattles my bones. “Get us out,” she says. “I can-I don’t know how,” I scream as panic once more overruns my mind. More thunder rumbles up above and nerves jump from my skin like electricity to match that in the sky. “It’s in our heads,” I say. “Get it out,” she yells in a sudden burst of strength. A golden lightning bolt strikes the ground just six feet from us. “God,” I yell, stomach twisting with fear. “Let us out!” “Let us out,” Freya screams, her weakened voice joining my own for just a moment. “Let us out! Let us out!” Six lightning bolts slam into the earth all around us, flashing like a golden cage, so bright it stings my eyes. They sound like a bomb exploding. I scream and it’s as if my voice rips apart the air itself, “get outttt!” Golden light seems to tear apart in a blinding display of fracturing white light before it all blinks out. For several heart stopping moments we're wrapped in a dark embrace.

The world comes back into focus. The grass is no longer on fire. There’s no more lightning. No more purple haze. The sky is normal all but for the smoke turning it a bluish gray. And there’s Freya in my arms, the hungry ground swallowing up her blood as it spills in a steady stream from her body. It's the only thing not back to normal. I suck in a sharp breath. This part, at least, was real. “Freya,” I yell to her, my heart seizing when her eyelids soften and her head lolls back. “Freya!” I pull her closer to me, lift her head up. “Wait,” I say stupidly, tears contorting the sound of my voice. She’s staring up at the sky. There's a flutter of wings, but I don't look away from her. Her eyes go dim, and I feel it when she leaves. It’s like something dragging the air from my body and sweeping it away, leaving me with nothing left. “No, Freya,” I say through a sob. And then I scream, unwilling to accept such an utterly horrible fate. “Don’t leave! Freya!” My voice gets louder and louder. “Come back! Come back,” I scream my voice out, so loud it could shake the world. I send it barreling after her, desperately searching for any bit of her that I can grab hold of. Any bit that I can drag back into this world.

Death

We watch as our human counterparts help to set in motion the beginning of the end. For once, we are still. Waiting for just a few moments as they test their new gifts. Simply watching as one of the girls, the one my sister gave her gifts to, sends her soul flying out far and uses it to snag that of another, that of the one who can see. I wait as so many souls fleeing their cages of flesh and bone fly into my open arms. Fires rage, shimmering so beautifully as they storm through buildings, forests, people. Animals run, wild chaotic floods in their need to get away from the terror. Many people do the same. But there is no getting away. I stare down at the three girls cradled in the gentle arms of a golden field, protected from the violence by a burning strip of forest. My sister and I, Life and Death, take each other’s hands. Together, as we've always been, we watch the beginning of the end of the world.

Rylan

I search, streaking past the moon and stars. I stretch out, far beyond our human perception of reality and into something utterly new, beautiful and terrifying. I stretch and stretch and stretch. Until finally I touch her hand and I grab on with every ounce of strength I have. I grab her hand and then I send us hurtling back to Earth.

I gasp in a breath that burns deep in my chest. Something so strange just happened. And yet it may have been the greatest thing I’ve ever done. I brought someone I love back into this world. Her eyes are closed, but her chest rises and falls with a steady rhythm. I’m still kneeling in the grass, holding her in my arms. When she finally opens her I laugh and feel tears sting my eyes and clog the back of my throat. “Freya,” I say softly. She smiles. Smiles even after what I’ve done to her. She rises into a sitting position and I keep my hand on her back, just in case she falls. “I’m so sorry, Freya,” I whisper. “I never meant…” my voice dies in my throat and I try again, “I didn’t know it was you. I’m so sorry, I don’t know what I was doing. And I know that’s the worst excuse ever…” She takes my hand in hers. “Rylan, it’s okay.” I shake my head. “No, no it’s not. What I did–to all those people, to you. I don’t know what was wrong with me, I just I-” “It’s okay,” she says again, her soft voice cutting through mine. “It was wrong. I just completely stopped thinking. All I could do at that moment was fight back, and it overtook my mind.” I take a breath. “And when you touched my shoulder…I didn’t realize it was you, all I thought was that someone was attacking me and I had to react.” She stares at me for a long moment. “I’m sorry,” I whisper again. She reaches out and wraps me in her arms. I hug her back, holding her tight to my chest as tears spill from my eyes and my body shakes with the still lasting horror from just minutes ago. Soft footsteps rustle through the grass. I pull gently away from Freya and look up at Willow. Somehow I know without a doubt that it was her mind we were trapped inside. I stand and face her. “What was that?” I yell. “Just some practice,” she replies, voice calm. “What?” “I was testing out my new talents.” “How much of that was even real?” She nods to something behind me. I look over my shoulder and feel cold hands wrap around my heart and squeeze. Four people lie dead just ten feet from us, dark blood soaking their clothes and draining into the ground. I stare, hot tears spilling from my eyes. The man I struck in the nose has somehow disappeared. Rage burns beneath my skin. I whip my head back to Willow. “You made me kill four people,” I scream. “No, you did,” she says simply. I stare, letting her words fill up the air and rake claws down my heart. “If not for you they would still be alive. Their dead Willow!” “Then bring them back. This test wasn’t just for me, you know? Life holds your hand and Death holds mine.” “She’s right,” Freya says softly and stands. “You’re Life’s counterpart.” I look back at her, and I’m shocked to find her smiling. She’s smiling because she knows I can right my wrongs. I don't question her. I push past her and walk to the bodies, lying in the embrace of Earth’s soft touch. I walk to what feels like the center of their scattered forms and kneel. I reach out and search, hoping that they’re still near enough for me to reach.

I bend over, bracing my hands on the ground as I pull in great gasps of air. There’s sweat on my brow and I feel myself shaking, but I just did something remarkable. I expanded myself, reached out and grabbed four people’s souls. I brought them back to Earth. I grin and look up at Freya and Willow. They're smiling back at me. I brought them all back and now I can feel their hearts beating and feel their spirits housed safely within their body’s once again. I look up at the sound of wings. A barn owl soars up above. Freya looks too and a grin blossoms across her face. Willow takes my hand and pulls me up. “Come on,” she says, “let’s go look.” “At what?” “The end.” My heart sinks but I follow her anyway. I can hear Freya padding softly behind us. We plunge through the forest. Thick smoke clings to our lungs and the nearby fire sears our skin, but soon we come back out into the open. Willow walks ahead to the top of the hill. I pause, hanging back for a moment. Willow looks back, and, smiling, she reaches out her hand. I take it and she guides me to the top of the hill. I stop breathing for a moment. At least half of the buildings and the houses that once stood just a mile away from this hill are now completely decimated, the charred remains sending spirals of smoke into the air. Several buildings are still burning, greedy flames reaching high for the sky. Bombs are no longer dropping, bullets are no longer flying. People are no longer screaming, but I can still see them running, struggling to leave the city and clogging up the road with their cars. I can still feel so many of them dying. It scares me, but maybe it’s okay. Maybe this was always meant to happen. “This is just the beginning Rylan,” Willow says and I turn to face her. “There’s a lot more coming.” I pause, several heartbeats eating up the seconds. “I know,” I say softly. I look back and see Freya standing ten feet behind us. She smiles. The barn owl is perched on her shoulder like it was always meant to be there. Willow looks back for a second, her gaze landing on the owl and I catch a corner of her mouth tilt up before she turns back. I turn back too, holding Willow’s hand tight in mine. I take in a long breath, smoke scraping at my lungs. “I know,” I say again. Ash floats lightly down to meet us. It lands in our hair and turns the ground a soft gray. “It’s only the beginning of the end of the world.” And everything’s exactly as it should be.