Chapter Text
July 4th, 2022
In the distance a low whistle emitted, loud, siren-like. It managed to hush the entire area, silencing everybody, pulling their gaze away from whatever they were doing, making everything else seem insignificant, their full attention on the noise.
Coinciding with the whistle was a stream of light shooting up; a bright white tail across the vast blackness behind it. It jagged as it soared, a trail of sparks followed the light as it climbed high into the sky.
The light stopped in the sky, for just a moment it stood there, movement suspended, and the whistle stopped as well, bringing silence.
Then the light cracked apart, splitting into dozens of different directions lighting up the whole sky with an ivory whiteness as the sound of the crack thundered across the land.
In quick succession, repeats of this happened, in varying sizes and colors. Not only the customary colors of red, white, and blue, but all colors of the rainbow spread across the sky.
I’m Cooper Bradford, and I was sitting with the Otto family on that Fourth of July in 2022 in our hometown of Westport, Connecticut. It was a noticeable day for several reasons, amongst them, it was the first time I was in a thing people call: a lawn chair.
The fireworks were nice, but I will admit, I’ve seen bigger ones, louder ones, ones with more color before, so I grew bored of them faster than others would. Besides, it wasn’t the fireworks that was what made me feel so giddy that night.
Like I said, I’m a Bradford, the only son of the Doyle and Christie Bradford, and we were the richest family in Westport; globally, we were in the top fifty; nationally, top fifteen. My parents are still rich, insanely so, but I no longer live the wealthy lifestyle. They disowned me when I decided to stay with the Ottos and live poor, only giving me a measly disinheritance, one that still apparently keeps me in the one percent.
I looked around the beach, a public area filled with all kinds of people; old ones, young ones, families, couples, some strange people just standing alone that filled me with pity, and a bit of wariness. Umbrellas positioned up even though the sun was already beneath the horizon, towels or chairs underneath them being sit on or sit in; nets set up for volleyball, abandoned to watch the fireworks, cheap toys scattered along the sand, as well as trash.
I switched my gaze from the strangers to the people around me, to the ones I had grown to think of as my closest friends, my family, although most didn’t really respond well to that, usually an eyeroll or an awkward nod.
Anna-Kat was once the youngest sister of the Otto family, for thirteen years in fact she held that title. She was smart, obsessive and compulsive, and had a weird fascination with the morbid things in life; she was also openly her mother’s favorite. She was dating, and semi-seriously engaged to Franklin (last name unknown), an unemotional, crazy talented kid.
They sat in front of me, books and magazines beside them, having spent most of the day cutting from them to plan their wedding, with Franklin trying to put his cult leader in the plans.
To my left was Taylor Otto, or actually, now, Taylor Windsor; she was the oldest amongst her siblings, although she didn’t really act like it, kind of flighty and inconsistent; right now, trying to be a teacher. She was lying with her husband, Trip, the two of them having just married last month, a perfect June wedding.
They were laying close, arms around each other, Taylor’s head resting on his chest, Trip staring with a wide-mouthed smile at the fireworks.
I looked behind me, the patriarch of the family, Greg Otto was dressed as a founding father, standing, staring proudly up at the skies, the sense of patriotism, reasonable patriotism, emitting off of him. He was a tenured college professor, published author, and member of the city’s council, but he had the habit of bumbling daily tasks. The foam from a fire extinguisher covered his portable grill, where he had attempted to make barbeque for us. Despite those flaws, he was still a great man, one I would have loved as a father.
To his left was YouTube sensation Lonnie Spears, who seemed to be Mr. Otto’s best friend after Mr. Otto ghost wrote his book; Lonnie was also Franklin’s adopted or foster or stepdad, I wasn’t really sure, but Franklin was living with him while his mom and her cult were awaiting trial.
To Mr. Otto’s right was Katie Otto, who was not giving the fireworks any attention, instead in a hushed conversation with her friends. Mrs. Otto was a force of nature, hot as fire, stubborn as earth, too tough to be comparable to water or air. Her opinions were known to all in town, and most people she comes into contact with. There’s never been a person that Mrs. Otto didn’t emerge victorious over, and she has a whole league of enemies. She’s had a number of careers too, marketing, party-planning, lasagna making, mommy-vlogging.
Right now, she was juggling part-time, freelance marketing, and raising the two newest members of the Otto clan: Celeste and Vinnie. I admired her so much, for all she has done, and is, especially when it comes to her parenting. I feel so honored every day to see her, and to experience her as a mother.
And, in my opinion, the epitome of her parenting, the proof of her and Mr. Otto’s good parenting, and the most important Otto, was right to my right.
Oliver’s face shined different colors, reflecting what fireworks were going off in the moment. He had all of his mom’s determination, his dad’s intelligence, plus his own sense of ambition that belonged uniquely to him. He was always on top of everything, always doing everything with precision, with purpose; it was nice seeing him grinning at the fireworks.
I met him in fifth grade, and it took too long for me to view him as my best friend, but now I wake up every day thankful that he was, and thankful that I had him for company, for advice, for everything. I can’t believe I went so long without having him in my life.
He must have felt my eyes on him, because he turned to me, an eyebrow cocked up, wearing a quizzical look.
“What?” He asked.
“I didn’t think you’d like fireworks.” I shrugged.
He shrugged. “Well…they’re fine. I have nothing against them.”
I opened my mouth to respond; I was going to say something like “Nothing Against them? You’re drooling almost.”, but under the cracks and the roars, and the conversations on the beach, I heard my phone ring.
I dug into my pocket, seeing a number I didn’t recognize. I pressed the power to silence it and shoved it back into my pocket; I was sure if it was important, they could text me.
“Who was that?” Oliver asked.
I shrugged. “Just a bunch of numeros, I don’t know.”
Oliver nodded and turned his gaze back to the sky, but it seemed like the spell was broken, and his interest was lost.
He reached down for his drink, which until then, I had thought was my drink.
“Dude, have you heard of germs?” Oliver chuckled.
“Lo siento, I’ll get us some drinks.” I laughed, standing up.
“I’ll come too, kind of tired or watching Taylor and Trip conceive my niece or nephew over there.”
I shot a glance at them; Oliver’s assessment was close on the mark.
We both stood up from the chairs, earning a boo from two of the angrier members of Mrs. Otto’s friend group, Doris and Walker; the latter wasn’t really a member, but a waiter that kind of leeched onto the group, and was a reminder of what I could end up as, a talentless heir dependent on his parents, which was not a great future. He also had a weird thing with Doris going on.
I wasn’t really sure if they cared about the spectacle of the fireworks, I just think they’re kind of mean.
Oliver rolled his eyes, and started strolling down the beach. We moved towards the back, to get out of people’s way, though nobody else seemed to mind, much less hiss or boo at us. This made me momentarily question the kind of people Mrs. Otto hung out with.
Oliver and I both were dressed for the beach; flip flops, damp swimsuits, and tank tops coordinated so his ensemble was cooler than my warm one. Our hair was still wet from swimming, salt and whatever other ocean grime sprinkled in there.
With the water and darkness, my hair looked brown, and I felt a pang of sadness; it used to be such a bright blonde sometimes, and a fiery redness other times, a weird kind of thing that felt unique and nice to just me. Unfortunately, I felt that I was becoming more and more brunette by the day. I wondered if I was going to have to resort to dyeing my hair like my parents did.
I shrugged this thought and pulled out my phone, about to begin browsing through Instagram.
“I can’t believe you just let your notifications go unread like that.” Oliver said but lightheartedly, with a chuckle.
“I’m sorry I don’t open every email within the first five seconds.” I laughed. “I like my phone to have flavor.”
“Wallpapers are flavor; forty-three unread voicemails are not.”
I looked down at my phone, and saw that there was the number forty-three in a little red circle on corner of the phone app.
“Wow, I guess I am a bit of a mess.” I laughed. “Oh, well, like I said, they could text.”
Oliver rolled his eyes, and we kept arguing about whether or not I should check my phone, all the way until we reached the beach’s Snack Shack.
“I’m not going to listen to all of them, that’s like an epic movie.” I complained.
“Even if all of them are two minutes, three, even, that’s only two hours, that’s hardly an epic.”
I was about to argue when Oliver snatched the phone from me and begin scrolling through it.
“Hey!” I shouted, but felt my lips turn upwards and reached to grab it back.
“No, I’m fixing this.” Oliver said, holding the phone over his head. He smirked and added. “Unless you think you can grab it, shorty.”
I rolled my eyes and snorted. He seemed to finish growing in height, a grand total of two inches taller than me and wouldn’t let me forget it, which was pretty cruel, because I towered like a foot over him for three years and never said a word. I occasionally wondered if my mom making the surrogate keep me in for longer than a year had an effect on my growth.
I ignored him going through my voicemail and turned to the cashier at the concession stand.
“Hello, what can I get you?” A chipper voice of a blonde girl said, probably Anna-Kat’s age.
“Um, can I get one Pepsi, por favor.” I requested, then turned to look at Oliver, looking intently at my phone. “What do you want?”
“Uh, a Coke, not a Pepsi.” Oliver said without looking up, something he knows I hate.
“Another Pepsi, senorita.” I said to the girl, whose smile fell as she turned back. I waited for Oliver to groan and moan and complain about the hyper-sweetness of Pepsi, but he didn’t say anything. I turned back to him and saw his eyebrows arched in worry and a heavy frown on his face.
“Esta bien?” I asked, pulling out a hundred from my wallet.
“Yeah.” Oliver said, in a voice that didn’t convince or calm me at all. I don’t know what came over him; I hoped it wasn’t something too serious, summer had just begun, he had been admitted to Harvard, and relaxed Oliver was in business.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out some dollar bill with Abraham Lincoln on it and handed it to the girl. “Thanks Penny.”
“Gracias.” I added.
“You’re welcome.” Penny cheered, handing us our drinks.
“What is it?” I asked as we began walking away from the snack shack to Oliver’s family.
“It says here, on the voicemail transcript, that your uncle died.” Oliver said. “But aren’t both your parents only children?”
I nodded. “Yeah, you know unless there was a secret sibling across an ocean, like your uncle. Wouldn’t be that surprising, most of my grandparents seemed like kind of bad people.”
“Let’s go somewhere so we can listen to the voicemail.” Oliver suggested.
“Why? It’s probably just a scam.”
“I would say so too, but there’s about five voicemails about your supposed uncle’s death.”
I shrugged. “Fine, let’s go to your car?”
Oliver nodded and we detoured towards the parking lot. During our junior year, Oliver and one of our classmates, Trevor, began an app called Gyftee, which was designated to help someone with picking out gifts for friends and family. The app blew up towards the end of the school year, and Oliver found himself with hundreds of thousands of dollars; they ended up getting sued by a rival app that had a similar idea. Trevor was recruited for the rival app and is living pretty easy, but Oliver was left with having to pay settlements. One of the things he got to keep was a fairly luxurious car, not quite as extravagant as I’m used to, but pretty good for a first-time temporary millionaire.
He was planning on selling it sometime before summer ended to help may with school, but for now we had it to cruise around.
The fireworks kept going, their explosive sound muffled with the distance we made, but the sights were still bright and colorful within the sky. I’ve been all over the world, on every continent, pretty close to most countries, but there was still something about America, about Westport that felt homey, and cozy. I don’t really think much about politics, or news, but there’s got to be a reason they all make movies and shows here, and whatever that reason was, it made me feel special and proud of my citizenship status.
Oliver’s car was completely clean, free of any streaks or crumbs or any kind of mess. He made me put a towel around my waist before he let me sit in it.
We sat in the front, something I was still getting used to, Oliver on the left, me on the right. Oliver pulled out my phone, and pressed play on the most recent voice mail.
“Hello, we are trying to reach Cooper Luca Bradford.” A clipped female voice spoke. “We have been unable to reach you to inform you about your great uncle’s illness and subsequent death. Your great uncle, General Arthur Cushing has died on July 2nd earlier this year, two days ago at the time of this call.”
I felt a punch in my gut as memories came flooding back, of one night. It may have been any time of the year, and it could have been a number of years, those details were lost within my mind, but I remember the exact time was 7:13 when the doorbell rang, the sound of the maid’s heels clacking against the marble floor.
I was coincidentally at the top of the staircase, overlooking the foyer. A tablet was in my hands, open to an app that was controlling a drone. Said drone was zipping throughout the casa, flying from room to room, one of the earlier models.
“I am sorry…” The maid began. “Mr. and Mrs. Bradford are not taking visitors.”
“Of course.” A deep, gruff voice roared out. “Daft and lazy, can’t even open a door for herself. Tell her I’m expecting her and her schlub husband here in five minutes.”
This maid had dealt with my mother’s ice-cold fury and volcanic rage without batting an eyelash but flinched from his tone. The younger me, too, had sensed something wrong; this wasn’t a person here to remind us Bradfords about our place on top of the social ladder, in fact, it was someone doing the opposite.
The maid offered up another excuse but was quickly shut down.
“I don’t care what feeble, mind-numbing activity Christie and her husband have embroiled themselves into this week, but you tell them to come down here or there will be consequences.”
The maid opened her mouth, but clamped it shut, sucking her lips in. She gave the smallest of nods and turned. Her pace was quicker than I had seen from her before, and my mom used her like a workhorse.
The man escorted himself into the building, slamming the door behind him. An unfavorable smirk covered his face as his eyes scanned the place, unimpressed. The disappointment softened a bit when his eyes landed on me.
“So, you’re the son.” The man said. “Wish I could say I’ve heard a lot of amazing things about you, but your mother’s vapid talk doesn’t leave much room for motherly intuition.”
I slowly nodded, wondering what was happening; nobody ever talked about my mother like that. I couldn’t understand how he could say things like that so casually.
“Just don’t stand there like a slack-jawed moron, come introduce yourself like a man.” He barked. “And put that damn tablet down.”
I nodded faster and placed the tablet on a nearby table. It would be a few weeks before I grabbed the tablet again, in fear that he would come around the corner, dishing an insult and an order at me.
I stepped down the stairs, and I felt a growing sense of anxiousness within me, and indescribable sense of horror as I stepped closer to the man. The only other people who knew that fear was those that walked towards their execution and could feel their life shortening with each step.
I reached him, and could smell an oldness whiffing off of him, as well as the smell of cigar smoke. He held out his hand, and grasped mine when I offered it, his strength evident on his grip, causing me to wince.
“Definitely need to work on that if you’re ever going to be something in this world.”
His voice echoed through my mind, like he was right there beside me, critiquing; not yelling, but definitely harsh and spiteful. I know it was wrong, but I felt a relief in me, free from ever hearing his criticism.
Then, a sick feeling in my stomach, guilt and sadness replaced the relief. This was somebody I wasn’t ever going to get to know or talk to, and somebody that I forgot all about until this moment, and he remembered me enough to be trying to get in contact with me.
I paused the voicemail and looked at Oliver and told him about my memory.
“Sorry Cooper.” Oliver said, giving me a sympathetic look. “That sucks.”
I smiled; grateful I had his sympathy and his friendship. It was undermined a little by him slipping the straw in his mouth. It was further undermined by him making a disgusted face and nearly spitting out the drink.
“Oh, God, Cooper, why would you tell her that.”
“Did she get you Pepsi?”
“It’s half Pepsi, half Coke.” Oliver complained. “Still too damn strong, I don’t like it being that sweet.”
“Well, I’m sorry, I’ve got a dead tío on my hands.”
Oliver gave me a conflicted look, one that wanted to call me out for pulling the dead uncle card, but didn’t have enough conviction to actually do so.
I smirked at him and pressed continue on the voicemail.
“This is Andrea Mendez, General Cushing’s lawyer. I need to discuss with you the terms of your great uncle’s will and testament. I will be in Hartford tomorrow, staying in his Connecticut apartment. I am imploring you to listen to this and show up. If not, I will be going to your place of residence the day after tomorrow, the sixth of July.”
She said the address and apartment number, then stressed the importance of meeting with her. After she stopped talking, Oliver gabbed the phone back and began messing with it.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“I’m getting rid of your notifications.” Oliver said and I repressed a chuckle; I couldn’t believe how meticulous he was about something like that.
I sighed. “I guess I should tell mom to get our house cleaned up for her.”
“One, still not your mom, and two, dude, she’s just an hour away, why wouldn’t we go?”
“We?” I asked.
“Yeah, why not, I’m not doing anything, and we never took a road trip together. Well, not one without my dad stopping to point out where each president coughed two-hundred years ago.”
I smiled. “Really?”
“Of course, dude, why wouldn’t I?”
I grinned, so grateful for Oliver. Someone to help me with almost all the facets of my life, he was such an amazing friend. I really wish I had gotten him Coke like he had asked.
“Gracias.” I said, smiling. He didn’t say anything in return, you don’t really need to when you’re as good friends as we are.
“No problem, Coop.” Oliver said. “You ready to go?”
I thought of it, going back to the beach. First, it was no place to tell of my great-uncle’s death, I could imagine the less than sympathetic replies from Doris and Walker; even Mrs. Otto if she was distracted. Second, I was done with it, mingling there so I could just wade within the water, and we were probably going to pack up within the hour, so there really was no point in going back.
I shook my head. “I’m tired of the beach.”
“You want to head home?”
I shook again. I didn’t really, being in the Otto house was such a happy place for me, and it felt wrong to go there when I should be mourning. I love the Ottos, but they could be a little self-involved, and I felt that my uncle deserved someone to wallow in his grief for a bit.
“Nah, I want to go swimming.” I said instead, which was true, I wanted to actually go swimming. The pool is where I did some nice and serious contemplating throughout my life.
“Gee, if only the world had this big thing full of water surrounding it.” Oliver said sarcastically.
“You can’t swim in a beach.” I said, “Not well, it’s not level, or flat.”
“Well, I don’t know what to tell you, dude.” Oliver laughed, then stopped, going back to thought. After a few moments he turned to me, wearing a conspiratorial smile. “You know, I think I’ve got an idea.”
I raised an eyebrow, wondering what he was thinking.
Notes:
Arcs and characters and things that occur in my hypothetical sixth season:
• Katie realizes she is not pregnant, but experienced a burst of fulfillment she hasn’t felt in years, and wonders what this means for her. Walker accidentally gives her hallucinogenic drugs, and she hallucinates talking to previous versions of herself; high school, college, married, pregnant with Taylor, etc. She realizes, she wants to be a mother again, but she misses being a career woman, and decides with technological advancements, she can free-lance from home until the baby goes to school, then part time, then eventually full time. She ends up having twin daughters, which she makes her less enthusiastic, but still pretty content.
• Greg continues being Greg. The seat on the city council is less than fulfilling, and he gives his seat to Principal Albin, to help his and Maria’s wedding and focuses on his professor career and writing more books, getting a genuine best seller towards the end, in something less niche than his John Stuart Mill book.
• Taylor is happy about her engagement, and throws herself into it, becoming a borderline bridezilla, and neglects her schoolwork. She realizes something similar to Katie, in that she keeps replacing her passions. Athletics with arts, arts with academics, then that with her engagement to Trip. She devotes herself to discovering a passion and finds that she is interested in teaching. Cultivating her academic interests and leaving her with time to coach little league teams in the summer and do community theater then too, and hopefully to inspire kids to become more interested in academics than she and Trip were. She denies she was following in her dad’s footsteps.
• Oliver is being forced to attend school by his parents, wanting to drop out, intending to focus on Gyftee’s success. He takes the ACT and SAT again, not seriously, because he trusts in Gyftee. The app doesn’t work out because of something to be determined, but he’s back to square one. He gets the results of his tests back, and they are great, and he devotes himself to Harvard, getting accepted in and getting a scholarship set up by Spencer before his death.
• Anna-Kat is a child, so not much is going on. She feels resentment because she’s now the middle child, and because she didn’t grow up with a sibling close in age, but she gets over it.
• Trip discovers he has an actual learning disability, and resents Taylor for going into teaching, but gets over it eventually.
• Cooper turns out to have been lying about his dad accepting, and was in effect a runaway. His mom shows up, gives him a few million and brutally cuts him off, sending the Katie and Oliver on a rampage. He is depressed, but keeps cooking and getting happier.
• Franklin’s mom gets arrested, the cult had slave labor going on. Anna-Kat is sad that he’s going to have to move out of state with his grandfather, but then Lonnie, the youtuber Greg ghostwrote for, comes in and adopts Franklin, and rents an apartment in town.
• Doris and Angela come back, and they have arguments with JD and Tami for being bad people. Katie mediates, and they along with Walker form a big second breakfast club.
• Viv and Greg II have gotten married and she is pregnant with a son, when the pig trainer comes back. He reveals he was trapped by boars in the forest, and they had mentally overpowered him, tricking him into thinking he was a boar. Viv is thrown of what to do, and both men want to back out to respect Viv. She decides to give polyamory a try.The idea of a fantasy series about Oliver and Cooper started off of a couple of factors, mainly wanting to do a fic based on the 2001 movie Thirteen Ghosts. It expanded into this.
Warning, this is quite long, lol, and it works as a pilot, so it's tone and style is a bit different than what I'm planning on doing with future fantasy stories. Thanks for reading, I appreciate comments. Let me know if I need to clear any parts up. You can always shoot me a message or ask on tumblr. Thanks!
Chapter Text
Less than an hour later we were on a dirt road, trees on either side of us. The lights were dimmed, not completely gone; I don’t know anywhere in America where you are completely devoid of some lights, but the ones there were kept isolated in a corner of the sky.
It was almost beginning to resemble a horror movie, a large hillbilly with a stained shirt just begging to jump out and scare us. I thought places like this were reserved for the south, not Connecticut.
I brought up my fears to Oliver who laughed.
“Dude, it’s just a little forest, calm down. Haven’t you ever been?”
“Only to watch them get torn down.” I admitted.
Oliver looked up to the sky in an annoyed manner, but I could tell from the smirk on his face he was amused.
“Just trust me.” Oliver smirked.
“Of course, you know I do.” And I did. With my life, with my soul, I would entrust Oliver with everything I owned.
While Oliver drove me somewhere, I let my memories go back to my one day with my great-uncle. It’s great having a best friend you trust so much you can flashback and monologue as much as you want.
“Yes sir.” I had answered my great-uncle after his criticism, holding in a cough from his strong cigar smell. We separated our hands, and I took a step back, the foot giving me some slight comfort.
It was a few awkward seconds, entirely from my end; it was a feeling I never had before, I was so used to being in control, in comfort, this felt so alien and unnatural to be experiencing this lack of confidence.
From his end, he showed no awkwardness, simply boredom and disappointment. He opened his mouth as if he was about to ask something, before he shut it and frowned, his eyes leaving me and gaze drifting behind me.
I turned to see my mom, moving faster than I had ever seen her move before, the soles of her shoes slapping against the marbled floor. Her hair was damp, her face lacked any makeup making me unsure if she was my mother for a second, and she had evidently dressed in haste, wearing a simple dress that would impress no one.
“Uncle Arthur, I am so happy to see you.” Despite my mother’s evident nervousness, her voice didn’t betray her lie. “How I wish you would have told me you were coming; I could have prepared something for you.”
“Like an empty house?” Uncle Arthur spat out, causing my mom to stop in her tracks, keeping a simple, unpleasant smile on her face. “I’ve been on the receiving end of that before. I’m not giving you another chance to try and squirm your way out of a meeting. Your mother was far too permissive with you.”
“Yes sir.” My eyes nearly fell out of my head when I heard what she had said.
“Good, now what are you waiting for? Go ahead, give your uncle a hug.”
My mom’s smile widened uncomfortably, and she stepped closer to him, offering a hug. While her arms wrapped around him, however awkwardly, all he gave in return was a hard slap on her back that gave her a yelp.
After a second it was done, and my uncle once again began complaining, insulting, downright mocking my mom. By the time my dad walked in my stomach felt twisted, and my mom’s eyes were glossy.
“Doyle.” Uncle Arthur’s voice held disgust and contempt, but he still held out a hand. “The unmistakable scent of new money.”
“Well, if you think the Mayflower, is new money, then yeah.” My dad attempted a chuckle.
“I do.” Uncle Arthur sighed once more. “Well, I hope you have enough room for another person at the table.”
The sudden jerk of the car shifting to park knocked me back to the present.
“So, this is it, huh? When you sacrifice me, when you all come out with knives and offer me up to your god?” I asked.
“Cooper, please, give me a break, to what god would you be worthy to sacrifice to?”
I gasped as Oliver opened the door and went to the trunk, I followed suit, the idea of actually being sacrificed more humorous to me than anything.
We grabbed our stuff, some sodas, towels, matching water bottles, my speaker, some weed; it’s legal in Connecticut, not for eighteen-year-olds, sure, but it’s just weed, and we didn’t do it regularly.
In just a few moments Oliver led me to a pond, empty and isolated from others. A broken and abandoned dock was at the base, and there were trees and bushes at the edge. It was already dark, but I could tell it was murky.
“Well?” Oliver asked. “Surprised?”
“I mean, there really could only be so many reasons that we could be here.” I answered. “The towels were kind of a giveaway.”
“Yeah, well, spur of the moment I think it was pretty successful.”
“I am surprised by Oliver Otto bringing me to a pond, in the forest. Nothing I have learned about him in the last eight years has given me any hints about him being into wilderness.” I realized what I had said. “Oh my gosh, can you believe we’ve known each other for eight years?”
“Yes.” Oliver answered. “I have felt every second of it, just dragging on and on.”
“And you’re welcome for that.” Oliver rolled his eyes but his smile didn’t leave his face. “Tell me, how do you know this place?”
“Dad used to take me and Taylor here during the summer before Anna-Kat was born.” Oliver answered. “Dad was out for the summer, and Mom needed a break from all of us. I got to see my dad burn all of our meals for a weekend straight.”
I smiled picturing the scene. Oliver moved to Westport at the beginning of fifth grade, but he had lived in Connecticut for his whole life, not that far away from me at all. It was hard for me to picture his time before we met, especially because he still kept pictures hidden from that time, for some reason. It felt funny, that he was so close and so far at the same time; it was odd that he wasn’t my friend until then, that we both existed.
“You must have hated that.” I walked closer to the pond, sticking a toe in. “And is this water safe?”
“Please, of course it’s safe, you know how many meals you’ve ate of my mom’s when she didn’t wash her hands? And I was pretty neutral about it.”
“About camping? Weren’t you bored, disgusted, scared?”
“I found ways to keep myself entertained, and it beat hearing my mom continuously yell about how we ruined her body and she was getting no benefits from it.”
I shrugged, not understanding my he wouldn’t have wanted to hear his mom yell. We both took off our flip flops and tank tops and started walking into the pond. The water was warm, and we quickly adjusted to it, thank God for global warming.
It was odd being in this agua, to not feel sand or tile, but instead grass and wood and this fuzzy thing Oliver said was moss. I felt a bit more in touch with nature, and a little like Swamp Thing. It was a dirty feeling, but I know why people take so much risk now. I was debating retreating back to the shore, but decided to keep going, and enjoy the water.
I loved being in the water. Pools were a lot better, or private beaches, but even this little pond had its perks. Feeling myself become enveloped within the water, wading through felt so peaceful and calm. Oliver once told me about water representing the calm, peaceful state. Oliver told me this while we were watching Avatar, the one with the elements, not blue people, and he was kind of bugging me, so I tuned him out then. I wish I had asked him to tell me about it again, in the water, him talking was such a calm, relaxing feeling. I loved hearing his voice, a better sound than any music I’ve ever heard.
As I waded through the water, feeling it in every fold and crevice of my body, enfolding every muscle, Oliver’s words during our Avatar watch were resonating even more The whole world slowing down, pausing. I reached enough so my toes were no longer touching the ground, and I flipped to my back, letting my ears slip beneath the water, muffling all the sound, increasing my solitude.
I looked up at the sky, the blackness spread far and wide, the moon only a little sliver. I had the sudden memory of the stars I had ever seen; in that little patch of woods in Connecticut, you could hardly see them, the city lights too close by, too bright for the stars except a handful of them; that wasn’t just America, tons of places all over are crowded by light, almost all of our mansions can’t even see one.
Atop our tower in Antarctica, the highest point of that building, when the snow and the wind was slow enough, you could see so many stars, hundreds of them, thousands really. I had to find a way to take Oliver there one day and show it to him.
I closed my eyes, enjoying the moment away from all of the hustle and bustle. I wish I had been in an empty pool instead, but I was enjoying the pond a lot more than I thought I would.
The enjoyment was taken away from me, when I felt two hands press against my face, pushing me into the water, submerging me into the element I had been complimenting so much.
I thrashed against the hands, flailing, feeling an intake of water go up my nose taking away my oxygen. I wrestled until I was standing back upright, the hands only giving a little pressure. As I stood, I took in a deep inhale, looking at Oliver laughing, deep, genuine laughing.
“What the hell?” I asked, though I felt a smile on my face. Oliver tried to answer, but he found himself laughing too hard to answer me. Any anger within me fled as I felt myself joining in on his laughter.
After he was through with his chuckles, Oliver managed to say, “Sorry, dude it was too easy, you were such an easy target.”
“And me laying like that means you should attempt to drown me?” I asked, though I was still smiling.
“Come on, if Taylor was here, she would have kept you under for much longer.” Oliver said.
“So, this is what the Ottos did before Westport, attempted drownings.”
“Only Taylor and I.” Oliver answered. “Anna-Kat was too young, that would really have messed her up. Actually, I’m not sure if Taylor didn’t do that to her.”
I felt a bit of sadness within me. Sure, I got to see Antarctica, and have met hundreds of celebrities, had millions of dollars at my disposal, dozens of servants, thousands of material objects, but I didn’t have siblings, not like Oliver. I don’t have that built in playmate, closer than best friend like they do, someone who you pretty much got to play with and have fun with, even if it was only because of convenience. I had friends, but we were always so focused on impressing each other, them more than me, that they were never genuine, at least from their end.
Oliver’s smile fell from his face, and he looked past me in confusion.
“Do you hear that?”
I turned around looking within the tree line, squinting in the darkness to try and find something, only to feel Oliver’s hands on me again, forcing me under water.
This time though I wrestled back against him, managing to drag him down with me. Once he was under, he let go of me, and I used that to climb above the surface.
We played around like that for a while. Immature? Yeah, but we didn’t do things like that when we were younger, he was too busy trying to impress me to let himself have fun; really, he’s usually too focused to ever let himself have fun, never like this.
We finally finished when we were both out of breath and smiling. Our heaves were the only noise beyond those of the woods, and I suddenly felt embarrassed for being so loud.
“You should put on some music.” I told Oliver who nodded his head and swam back to the edge.
I swam behind him, and reached the edge as well, grabbing onto a towel and drying my hands. Once dry, I grabbed the lighter and two joints I brought, holding onto them as I waited for Oliver to be done. I was very surprised when country music began playing.
“Wow, country music, natural bodies of water.” I chuckled, “You’re just turning into a regular cowboy, aren’t you?”
“I accidentally hit a Fourth of July playlist.” Oliver explained, laughing, messing with his phone some more.
“Leave it.” I said, “It fits, kind of reminds me of that big country boom that was happening when we were kids.”
As the guy sung about making love on a lake, Oliver shrugged, and walked back to me, grabbing his joint. We slunk back into the water, and I lit them up, throwing the lighter back to the grass.
For some reason, seeing Oliver inhaling on his joint, looking so relaxed and calm, made me want to be a bit of a dick. I slapped the hand holding the joint, causing him to drop it, and flinch back.
“Dude, what the hell?” Oliver shouted, a grin forming on his face when he saw me laughing, one he tried to turn into a frown.
“I couldn’t help it dude.” I laughed. “It was too easy. We’ll just share this one.”
Oliver shrugged. “Fine.”
“Do you want to light up fireworks in a minute?” I asked.
“When you say that, you want to just sit in the water and make me do the work, right?”
I nodded. “Yeah!”
“That wouldn’t be happening anyway.”
“Come on, you don’t really trust me with lighters, not on fireworks, you’ve said so yourself.”
Oliver nodded. “You’re right, I’m surprised you aren’t covered in ash from the joint, but besides that, rethinking the firework idea, I don’t think using them in the forest is the smartest.”
I looked around the trees and bushes and all of those flammable things and nodded. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
We passed the joint for a bit, when Oliver let out a wistful sigh.
“What is it?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I just…it’s probably the weed, I guess, but I kind of wish I could go back.”
“To the beach?”
Oliver shook his head. “No, just, back, to being younger.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know, I just wish I could do it again, change some things.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know, not really waste some of my time on some things, do some other things faster. Enjoy some other things. Gone to…I probably would have tried to get into contact with you sooner.”
“I hope you have a good plan to do that, Uncle Arthur tried to, and he died before I answered.”
Oliver laughed, more than he should have, I guess the weed was hitting him.
“You feeling nervous about Harvard?” I asked.
Oliver’s laugh slowly stopped, and he nodded. “Yeah, I don’t know why, I’m just thinking about so many stupid things, I think. The twins, I won’t be around them for a bit. Taylor is going to get pregnant at any second, Anna-Kat looks is almost becoming a completely different person. You know, I don’t think I’ve ever even had a one-on-one conversation with Trip.”
“Are you thinking about not going?”
“Hell no.” Oliver laughed. “I’ve worked too hard, plus there’s so much I’m ready to get away from. I just think it’s because it’s the first holiday since I graduated. Maybe because it’s the last holiday with me living at home, full time? I don’t know.”
I guess I must have given a look that was too sympathetic, because he gave me an awkward punch on my shoulder.
“Calm down, Cooper, I’m here alone with you for a reason, instead of with them. Believe me, I had enough of them for a bit.”
I smiled, feeling pretty good about myself and our friendship, then for some reason I swept Oliver’s leg, making him lose his balance and drop into the water again, making us both laugh.
Chapter Text
In life, I shared a dinner with my parents and Great-Uncle Arthur, listened to his insults, then never saw him again.
The next day, I tried mentioning him to my mom. Her face was usually cold and emotionless, heated up with fury, her pearly skin transforming into a red that spread from her cheeks to her ears. Any discussion of him was implicitly forbidden with her look
Memories faded, thoughts of him became less prevalent, diminishing each day until he vanished from my mind, and I moved on, never thinking of or seeing him again.
That was in life.
In my dreams, however, I saw him again. The dreams started when Oliver and I got back from the woods; although my body was laid in my bed under clothes, a few feet from Oliver in our basement apartment in Westport, my mind was in a completely different state, three years back.
I was in a small store, one miniscule compared to the Otto’s house. There were shelves full of trinkets next to the counter, and racks with clothes. I was leaning against the counter, fiddling with a small little object in my hands, a rock, though in my dream I knew it was a talisman.
In my dreams I knew a lot of things, things different than what I knew in real life. I also felt differently too. Anger ran through my veins, heat spread over me. I don’t know why I was so angry, but it was all I could feel, a shell of stoicism barely covering a fiery temper. More than when I was upset with Oliver or my parents. This was a rage, boiling and steaming, one that wanted to see everything burn down, watch all turn into ash and rubble and be destroyed. It wanted to see light in all be snuffed out.
There were people at my school; obnoxious, self-involved, whiney, spoiled…brats. None of them could think like me, or understand me All just living in there vapid, deluded fantasies, casting themselves as heroes instead of the useless cattle they are. Moronic imbeciles.
I didn’t care about that; I didn’t have delusions of being a hero. There was no royal lineage in my blood for me to take a throne, no spaceship for me to explore distant lands, no powers waiting to unlock and be some super-savior.
Besides, being a hero seemed like such a drag, a bore. Servicing others? What had they done for me? What did their lives matter? Their happiness? Risking everything, wasting your time and energy on people who don’t care for you? And for what? Superman’s just a reporter, Spider-Man’s a loser; sure, Batman and Iron Man have billions, but not because of their heroics.
Still, I had desires. I wanted a life of luxury, of ease. Of power, but a secret power, one in the shadows away from the spotlight, away from the attention. One with no duties, no responsibilities, and no need to interact with people.
But I could still watch them watch every heartbreak, every loss, every mishap. Even plan a few if I ever got the chance.
Still more than anything I wanted to lose myself to the shadows… to live in the cool, dark blackness. To be away from the light, the sun, the fire.
I pondered these thoughts, knowing they could happen, in just a few years away from Gretchen.
Who was Gretchen? I forgot after I woke up, but I knew in my dream I was consumed by hatred. I wanted her gone. Disposed of, dead.
I was festering in my thoughts when I felt someone coming. They were on their way to the store, but I could tell it was somebody different. Somebody interesting.
I stared at the door, waiting for it to open, feeling a sense of excitement, a small spark, but excitement, nonetheless.
I wasn’t surprised when I saw the man, tall, and with a body very well built for his age, the smell of cigar wafting off of him, and a smirk on his face as he saw me.
I was surprised when he snapped and pointed at me.
“Luca, right?”
Chapter Text
July 5th, 2022
The inside of my great-uncle’s building was familiar to me but had Oliver looking a bit awed. Unlike mine and other Westport mansions, where we updated and remodeled frequently, this building was regal and classic, from an era before, well, most things really. I could tell it had originally been constructed pre-war, meaning pre–Revolutionary War, but didn’t show any sign of aging, instead like you walked into it right behind George Washington.
The walls and floors and ceilings all shined with an impressive light, everything looked sturdy and nice. It was a four-story-tall building, with my great-uncle’s suite consisting of the entire fourth floor, white and gold within, cyan and black on the outside. A few modifications had been added to keep it from being obsolete but seemed to have been done only in with those most absolutely necessary.
“My dad would be freaking out if he was here.” Oliver began as we started up the stairs, “He’d be having palpitations if they let him in, and I’d be stuck alone with Mom.”
The doorman beamed when he had seen me, a picture of me posted on the wall, ripped from Instagram. Apparently, my absence was causing Ms. Mendez a lot of anguish, which she let the doorman know about, bringing him a lot of distress as well. My arrival brought him much relief; I could imagine, I barely had a conversation with Ms. Mendez and my stomach was already in knots.
We let our highs fade then left the pond, head back to the Otto casa. We told Mr. and Mrs. Otto about the phone call and our plans to see Ms. Mendez; Mr. and Mrs. Otto both offered me sympathy, though Mrs. Otto got distracted by Anna-Kat trying to bring an injured squirrel into the house and they began fighting.
I called Ms. Mendez after we went down to the basement of the Otto House, where our rooms were. She was on speaker, and Oliver agreed that she seemed short, snippy, and a bit pissed about my unreachability. She spoke in a stilted, tight voice that barely concealed anger, leaving me a bit worried about seeing her.
Oliver and I laid down and went to sleep; our beds are close enough where we can hear each other, and I drifted off listening to Oliver talk about what things my uncle could have left me.
I woke up right after my great-uncle called me Luca. Which was odd; I never really cared for my middle name, it clashed with the other two. My mom only gave it to me in morphine-induced kindness. She took the morphine from their surrogate and was feeling very kind when the surrogate requested.
Oliver shrugged off the dream, saying it was odd, but probably nothing too serious; it was repressed feelings or something like that, some way to make me feel better about not knowing him. Oliver was the smartest man I knew, so I didn’t worry about it much.
We passed the first floor, then the second; the whole building seeming to be awfully quiet, and calm, not a noise to be heard from any of the apartments. Natural light flowed into the building, the only source of light at the moment; very few outlets adorned the walls, the common area almost free from electricity.
We could hear heavy pacing once we reached the third level, coming from upstairs, like Ms. Mendez was creating trenches in her steps, and I felt a sense of apprehension spread over me.
“Dude, calm down, what can she do?” Oliver asked. “You’re still rich, despite your claims otherwise, and she’s just a lawyer.”
“Yeah, law-yer, scary, she could pin something on me.” I answered, “I don’t know, I just got a bad feeling in my stomach.”
“That’s because you don’t eat enough fiber.”
“It’s such a declassee thing to eat.” I thought about it. “Also to talk about.”
The staircase ascended, and a ceiling above started to form behind us, creating a little cove that only consisted of a few steps and the door.
I took a deep breath before knocking on the wooden frame. It was only a matter of milliseconds before the door was ripped open, revealing a woman dressed in a gray suit, with black hair tied into a bun behind her head.
Ms. Mendez eyebrows were focused, furrowed into a hard, determined stare, which offset the large, fake smile she wore on her face. Scarce, plain makeup covered her face, and her hair was without a single strand out of place. She was taller than either of us, and also more muscular.
“Andrea Mendez, you’re Cooper Luca Bradford?”
“I am.” I answered.
“Well,” Ms. Mendez looked Oliver up and down with a disapproving glance. “General Cushing didn’t say anything forbidding visitors, and he’s no longer with us now, so I doubt he’ll mind you sitting in. Just for record, your name is?”
“Oliver Otto.”
“Middle name?” Ms. Mendez asked.
“Uh, Duke.”
Andrea Mendez nodded, her smile falling as she waved for us to come in. “I’m going to assume the uh was just momentary confusion, that’s alright. We have to be very thorough in our work.”
Bookcases stacked to the brim were lined against the wall. Art lined the wall, most of it having some sort of military men within them. Heads of animals mounted the walls, stoic, unemotional deer looking at us as we followed Ms. Mendez.
I noticed despite being carefully decorated, it lacked much, if any characteristics that somebody has lived here, no quality that it was actually made for a human, much less an old man. A few things of Ms. Mendez seemed to be on the couch, but otherwise it looked like it was straight from a showroom.
Even the desk that Ms. Mendez stood at only had a few papers on it, all in a neat stack next to a briefcase and a purse that were clearly brought by her. Ms. Mendez jotted something down in a notebook, then shoved it in her purse.
“This is a really clean apartment.” I noted as me and Oliver took two seats in front of the desk.
“Yes, very clean, General Cushing didn’t do much of his actual living here. He didn’t really find much to do in Connecticut and had other responsibilities elsewhere.” Ms. Mendez explained. “Of course he loved all of the States, so he has at least one in each state, territory, and district, Connecticut included.”
“Fifty-six apartments?” Oliver asked, shocked in his voice. I couldn’t help but agree, that was an extravagance that my parents wouldn’t even do, at least not like that, not actual homes.
Ms. Mendez’ nod showed she agreed. “At least fifty-sex, some states have several apartments; and not just apartments, some condos, ranches, mansions whatever he had been in the mood for that state. Yes, it’s a bit much, but he wanted to show that he was a man of his word, his love for America was strong and still continues; he liked to show his love for all the states, territories too. He usually decorated each of his apartment with trinkets of the state; for example, those deer heads were all shot in the state park.”
“Is that legal?” Oliver asked.
“It was after my firm was done with the case.” Ms. Mendez laughed. “Now, are we all done with the small talk, and can we get into business we should have when he was alive?”
I nodded, and Ms. Mendez gave a mirthless smile.
“Great, now, let’s begin. ‘To my great-nephew Cooper Bradford, son of Christie Bradford, who had once been Christie Carrington, daughter of my departed sister, Eunice Carrington, formerly Eunice Cushing. I would first like to apologize for allowing two people as moronic and self-centered as Doyle and Christie to have a hand in raising you. I understand though, that they did not have much influence on your upbringing. Christie is a severe disappointment in particular, her mind once showing potential. Regardless, I have heard through the grapevine of your disinheritance; while personally I think a career in the culinary arts is rather futile and ineffective to our society, I must applaud you for branching away from those idiotic leeches in whatever way you could.’”
Ms. Mendez stopped reading and reached into her bag, taking out a water bottle. I felt a little pleased at hearing the harsh dissing towards my parents, glad that someone else within the family noticed.
“Quite a talker, huh? Anyway, ‘There are many things I would like to leave you, though with your upbringing, I do not know of your dedication, and am unsure if you are completely deserving of my belongings. That is why I’m giving you a task, to be completed by the end of my death month. Ms. Mendez will give you an assignment to complete, fairly simple, but rather time-consuming and meticulous. I am sorry I didn’t know you in life, Cooper, but I hope that you will impress me in death, however slight that may be.’”
Ms. Mendez sighed and looked at us, lowering herself to the chair at the desk. “So, to put this into other words, General Cushing wants you to go on a cross-country road trip, stop at some of his apartments, go in and grab one of these. One has been placed in each property you will visit.”
Ms. Mendez reached into her purse and pulled out a plain black box, only about four inches in each dimension, solid red. It felt like marble, smooth and almost without friction, seemingly lacking any kind of openings, or holes, or anything decorative, just a really smooth block.
“If you’re doing this, you will be starting your journey in New York City and ending it near San Francisco, in his mansion, where you will wait for the reading of the will. Of course, a car will be provided. In each apartment, condo, house…whatever residency he has there, you will grab one of these cubes, and place them in this.” Ms. Mendez reached under the desk and grabbed a suitcase, gray and with a hard plastic shell exterior, opening it. Within it were rows and columns made of soft plastic, making spaces to place the boxes, keeping them separated. “If you skip one of the locations, this is null, and void, and you earn nothing unless you go back and complete your tasks. That is of course, if you choose to go.”
“So, I just need to drive?” I asked.
“Yes, but it is a seventy-hour car ride.” Ms. Mendez said.
“Seventy hours?” Oliver and I said at the same time, and Oliver pulled out his phone.
“Yes, assuming you don’t stop for the night to sleep, which I’m assuming you probably will.”
Oliver looked up from his phone. “This said that only takes forty-three hours though.”
Ms. Mendez sighed. “Yes, but you are taking detours, many detours, to visit his homes across the country. Chicago, Phoenix. Hell, there are six in Texas alone.”
“How many are there in total?” I asked.
“Twenty-one, that you will be stopping at.” Ms. Mendez answered. “Like I said, he has homes all over the country, and he will be having other relatives performing similar tasks that you are.”
“How many are they going to be visiting?” Oliver asked.
“Cooper has the most assigned places; the relative with the second most has a dozen. General Cushing wanted you to know that your duty is proportion to your inheritance.” Ms. Mendez answered, winking at us, showing a genuine smirk for a second.
I nodded. “Um, how long will you give me to think about it?”
Ms. Mendez sighed, annoyance beginning to show on her face. “You have until the beginning of August to perform this. You have my number; if you decide you want to do this, you can just call me and let me know.”
“I don’t think he needs more time to think about this.” Oliver said. “He’s doing well financially, I mean, all he needs is to steal a couple of coins from a wishing fountain and he’s back to being a billionaire.”
“Well, I don’t know, I could do it.”
“How about this.” Ms. Mendez announced, standing up from the chair, beginning to clean the desk up. “You two stay in General Cushing’s apartment, discuss this. I have a short lunch I need to take just down the street with another client. I will be back in thirty minutes, and you can let me know your thoughts. Even if it’s no, you still have my number to change your mind, and know when you can.”
She put all of her belongings within her briefcase or her bag, leaving only the suitcase to put the cubes in, and a singular paper that she pushed towards us, one with a list of addresses on them.
Ms. Mendez looked at us, an eyebrow raised, showing a questioning expression. “That plan okay with you two?”
I looked at Oliver, who was waiting for me to answer. “Yeah, that sounds bueno to me.”
Ms. Mendez gave us a tight smile once more and a nod. “Great, I’ll be back within the hour.”
Once the door closed behind her Oliver let out a large groan.
“Why would they think you want to drive that far, for that long, with no guarantee?” Oliver sighed, standing up and going over to a bookshelf. He grabbed one of the books and began flipping through it. “I mean, you’re already rich enough, the inheritance probably won’t make a difference to your bank account, and this guy could have reached out while your were alive. Are all these books Connecticut themed? I didn’t think there was that much in this state.”
“I don’t know amigo.” I answered. “You know, I do kind think it could help, get me up a bit back to my former standard of living.”
“Please, I’m handling your expenses, I can make your money last until we’re both back in diapers.” Oliver said.
I wanted to argue, come up with a reason why I wanted to do this, something that was money-driven and financial, but I couldn’t. I had to tell the truth. “Did you hear him say he was sorry?”
Oliver looked up from the book, his eyes furrowed in a way that made me feel vulnerable. He gave me a little grin and answered in a softer tone, letting it soak for a minute. “Yeah, I did.”
“I think I want to do it.” I said, almost as a whisperer.
I looked at Oliver, who was giving me a simple, sympathetic smile. “You know, Cooper, tons of people can tell you’re good, and kind, you are, you’re one of the nicest people I know.”
“I know.”
“I think you’re good, you know that, right?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I do. It’s just nice to hear it from one of them, you know…someone in my family.”
I know I shouldn’t be putting so much weight onto a dead man’s opinion, or really any of my family members. But I can’t help it, he actually knew me, he had my blood, and had actual opinions about me, even if it was largely pity.
“I want to do it.” I said, “It’ll be fun, I’ve never actually driven that long.”
“I know, I don’t think most humans have.” Oliver sighed. “And I’ve seen your attempts at driving, dude. You need practice.”
“Well, I’ll have seventy hours’ worth of it” I replied back. “I think I should do it.”
Oliver looked at me, like he wanted to discourage me again; it probably wouldn’t be too hard, I’m very easily perusable, but instead of arguing he gave me another smile, this one containing more…not exactly happiness, but not anger.
“Do you really want to do this?” Oliver asked.
I nodded. “Yeah, I want to. I know I don’t need to, but… he had some faith in me. You know how many people have faith in me to do a job? It’s not a lot.”
Oliver smirked at me and let out an exhale. “Fine, when you want us to leave?”
“We?” I asked.
Oliver nodded. “Well yeah, you suck at driving, I’d be leaving you on a suicide mission if I didn’t go. And to tell you the truth I always wanted to get some of that money.”
I smiled, so, so happy he was coming. Of course he was coming, he’s always there for me, just like I always try to be there for him. “Deal.”
Chapter Text
“No! No deal!” Mrs. Otto shouted over dinner, a delicious dish that I helped her with, that was now being coated with her saliva as she screamed.
Mr. Otto held his breath as he watched his wife scream; Anna-Kat was busy texting her boyfriend, Franklin, and didn’t seem very interested to begin with. Oliver’s baby twin sisters, Celeste and Vinnie, just sat there, they aren’t very chatty yet.
“Oliver, do you really think I’m going to let you go gallivanting off to California for a week, with him?” Mrs. Otto asked, making the voice where she pretended that I was a disgusting idiot, oh gosh, she was so good at that.
“Katie,” Oliver said pointedly, which caused Mrs. Otto to raise her eyebrows, her eyes widening in rage, “I’m eighteen, I can do what I want. You’re lucky I’m even keeping contact with you people, I got my own way of going to college, you aren’t offering anything anymore.”
Mrs. Otto looked at Mr. Otto with a confused look. “Really, he’s eighteen?”
“Katie, he graduated almost two months ago, this one you really should have known.” Mr. Otto said.
“His uncle is dead, and he can’t drive well.” Oliver continued. “Of course, I’m going, what do you think I am, a monster?”
“The last eighteen years have been a living testament to that idea!” Mrs. Otto screamed, which caused the babies to start screaming. “I hope you’re happy, you made your two little sisters start crying!”
Mrs. Otto stood up and went to the babies, grabbing one and handing it to Mr. Otto, who began rocking it. She went and grabbed the other baby, walked up to Anna-Kat, snatching the phone from Anna-Kat’s hand and tossing it to the table, and placed the baby in her hands.
“You two, get them to stop crying.” Mrs. Otto said in a stern, but much softer voice before sitting back down. “Cooper, you’re already vastly rich, you don’t need this.”
“It’s not about the money.” I answered. “It’s about proving my great-uncle right.”
Mrs. Otto rolled her eyes. “Cooper, honey, he’s dead. If he wasn’t there for you in life, why should you let him be there for you in death?”
“Because it’s money woman.” Oliver answered. “Do you not understand yet, has eight years of Westport taught you nothing?”
“It taught me I may not be able to beat my child, but nobody ever said anything about beating an eighteen-year-old.”
“Bring it on woman.” Oliver replied, holding his hands up and inviting her to take a swing.
“Okay, before we end up on a revival of the Jerry Springer Show, let’s take a few steps back.” Mr. Otto said, always the voice of reason. “Okay, the boys want to go away for a week, what’s wrong with that, Katie?”
“This is Oliver’s last summer at home, and Cooper’s! What if I had something planned to do with them?”
“Do you?” I asked, hopefully.
“Of course not, who do I look like, Martha Stewart?” Mrs. Otto rolled her eyes. “But that’s not the point, this is my last summer to pass them in the kitchen and say hi to them.”
“We’ll still be staying here for summers during college.” I answered, though I realized I didn’t know what Oliver’s plan for our summers were.
“Really?” Mrs. Otto asked. “Ugh. Okay, next point, are you forgetting that Oliver wrecked our car?”
“No, I remember.” Mr. Otto said, “That was over three years ago too, and Oliver, as well as Cooper to a lesser extent, have shown that they can both handle driving.”
“Not for that long of a drive, not seventy hours straight.” Mrs. Otto said.
“We’ll be staying in his apartmentos and casas.” I answered.
“Oh my gosh, you just have answers for everything, don’t you?” Mrs. Otto asked. “Anna-Kat, help me.”
“Mom, you’re wrong.” Anna-Kat said, “You’re just trying to hold onto control because you are still upset that Taylor didn’t let you plan her wedding and married without your blessing.”
“An outdoor wedding, we were covered with mosquitos and surrounded by dog crap!” Mrs. Otto said, and we must have all given her a look, because she let out an annoyed sigh and slumped her shoulders, giving up. “Ugh, okay, moving on, I can think of something. I’m starting part time; I don’t have time to be going off with you up there.”
“News flash woman, you weren’t invited.” Oliver said.
“I know that! But I also know something is going to happen that is going to make me have to drop everything I’m doing and come save some butts!” Mrs. Otto said. “It always happens!”
“Katie, it’s summer.” Mr. Otto said. “If anything at all happens, I’ll take care of it. It’ll be a huge financial strain, just paying for the gas, but I can do it.”
Mrs. Otto frowned, and I could see she was searching for another excuse.
“Just let them go mom, the more you dig your claws into something, you only end up hurting that thing more.” Anna-Kat said.
Mrs. Otto rolled her eyes. “Ugh, I don’t really care anymore, I’m giving you a list of gifts I want though.”
“They aren’t gifts if you tell us to get them.” Oliver said.
“Then fine, they’re just more tasks! You happy?” Mrs. Otto asked, then took a bite of her dinner.
“Quite an adventure to go cross-country, what sights are you planning on seeing?” Mr. Otto asked.
“His great-uncle’s houses and his inheritance.” Oliver answered.
“Do you know what I would do if I got the opportunity to go on a cross-country road trip?” Mrs. Otto asked.
“Visit every group of real housewives?” I asked.
“Ooh that would be good.” Mrs. Otto said. “Oh, I would give them such a piece of my mind, they wouldn’t know what was happening.”
“Yeah, some woman wearing Costco clothes, verbally assaulting them.” Oliver said. “That isn’t an everyday occurrence.”
“It is a shame not to see some sights while you’re travelling.” Mr. Otto said, “You should make a plan for your return trip, see some nice historical locations, I could write some up for you!”
“The fourth of July has passed, we’re over America and its history.” Oliver said.
Mr. Otto frowned, and Mrs. Otto huffed in anger.
“Do you know how lucky you are to live here?” Mrs. Otto said, “Shining Sea to shining sea? Where else do you get to say whatever you want to and do what you want and live the way you want? You know, I should have instilled patriotism into you more, you are so lucky to live in such a free country.”
“Mom, did you watch Independence Day again?” Anna-Kat asked.
“What other country can kick alien ass?” Mrs. Otto asked. “It’s the perfect American movie!”
“I think there are other movies that better encapsulates the American spirit.” Mr. Otto said.
“Yeah, but none of them have Will Smith telling aliens to suck it.” Mrs. Otto replied.
Mr. Otto sighed. “Alien patriotism aside, this country still has a lot of places to see, and lots of people’s stories to hear.”
“That’s what podcasts are for.” I said, “Anybody could make them, lots of people do, all the time, especially men.”
“Speaking of podcasts, Franklin wants us all on his one-hundred-and-fiftieth episode of his.” Anna-Kat said.
“No.” Mr. Otto, Mrs. Otto, Oliver and I said at the same time.
Anna-Kat shrugged. “Fine, but his audience is going to be very unhappy.”
Chapter Text
Oliver and I packed within the basement, letting an old Disney show play in the background; for both of us it was nostalgic, though it was different kind of nostalgia for me a little, having financed some of the shows.
“One suitcase, Cooper.” Oliver said, “That’s what normal people pack, maybe two, never eight per person.”
I frowned. “But what if we have to get dressed all nice and spiffy for a party? Or need beach clothes, or if we decide to go to Colorado on our way back to ski?”
“Cooper, we can bring one formal suit for us each, most people won’t care about the color, or fabric, or texture, or anything; we’re men, that’s one of our privileges.” Oliver said. “Same with swim shorts, and we aren’t going skiing.”
“We could.” I grumbled, trying to decide which of my suits was the most utilitarian such a nerve-wracking task, they each had qualities that the others just couldn’t match, and it was horrible that you couldn’t put them all together.
I sighed, deciding to wait for Oliver to pick one and coordinate mine. “So, amigo, do you want to bring the X-Box? PlayStation? Switch?”
“I don’t think we need to bring them; we’re going to be too exhausted every time we get to one of his homes, and then we’ll just be turning right back around to come home.”
“How about just the switch?” I asked.
Oliver rolled his eyes, and chuckled. “Fine.”
“And the X-Box?”
“No.”
I frowned. “Please? Come on, we won’t be that tired.”
“Yes, we will, you’ve never taken a road trip, much less a normal person, people in a car, cross-country road trip.” Oliver said. “And you’re going to be especially tired because you have to work on your driving.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked. “I’m a great driver.”
“No, no you’re not.” Oliver chuckled.
“You’re right.” I admitted. “I’m good in suburbs and country roads, though!”
“Cooper, Norwalk is not the country.” Oliver said. “And we’re going across state lines, the interstate will be the fastest.”
“I can drive on the highway roads muy bueno!” I said, “It’s just getting onto them that is hard, you know, you’re never sure if they’re going to get you or not when you pull in.”
“Yeah, well that’s a pretty pivotal part of it.” Oliver said. He zipped his suitcase and let out a contented sigh. “There, done, with the first one.”
“What?” I asked. “You barely have anything in there?”
“Cooper, listen, we leave tomorrow, spend four days driving, one day to hear the will, then come back, stopping maybe twice, we really don’t need that much.”
“I disagree, what if any of my family is there and can tell we’re wearing last year’s clothes?”
“Flip them off, stick your tongue out, ignore them.” Oliver said. “Who cares, they suck.”
“But won’t we get like, dirty and smelly on the road?”
“Your great-uncle’s homes probably have a washer and dryer or are close enough to a laundromat.”
“But my clothes aren’t recommended for laundry.”
Oliver sighed. “Cooper, can you start making us something to eat and I’ll finish packing?”
I nodded. “Sure!”
I went over to the kitchen, thinking of what to make for a quick snack for the two of us.
I loved cooking and baking. Taking all these things, these separate ingredients and putting them together. There’s so little that has been kept from the beginning of society, that are truly necessary to life, but food is one of them.
On each continent, every country, every single place has meals, and every person eats. There are so little things in life that are shared, I don’t really think there is anything else. But for something that is so universal, it is so different for each person. Some people like sweetness, like sinking your teeth into the soft moist, rich chocolate cake that you’re eating for a birthday party. Some like savoriness, feeling the Thanksgiving turkey slide down your throat, enjoying that tender chew between your teeth. Some like sour, some like saltiness, it’s different for everybody.
The sweeter is the better for me, for Oliver he detests anything too sweet, and because he was helping me, I decided to make something he would definitely enjoy.
I recalled something made for me when I was in Africa on a trip, spiced chickpeas. I looked up the recipe online and found that we had the ingredients, and it would be quick enough to make.
I wish I could do more for Oliver, I always felt guilty that I didn’t do as much as he had done for me. I wanted to give him some more, more to make his life easier. I know he stressed about money; I wanted to give him some, but he was always hesitant to actually accepting it, and his mom wouldn’t let me give him anything to help him, like shoes or vacations.
I love Mrs. Otto, she’s so wise, but I have to say that I think she’s wrong about this, to some extent. I do think family is more important than money, and I guess being a good person is too, but Oliver’s stress was driving him sick and had been, and some more money would definitely help him.
At the end of junior year, a lot of changes happened to us. Taylor and Trip got engaged, Mrs. Otto thought she was pregnant, and Mr. Otto was elected to the city council. Meanwhile I had chosen to leave my parents and their lifestyle, and the Bradford fortune, though I didn’t tell anybody of this until senior year had started up. I had chosen that decision that week as the other decisions, when my father tried to bring me to Florida and dissuade me from Mrs. Otto’s lessons and lifestyle.
Oliver on the other hand was crashing. I knew he was nervous about the SATs, but I had no idea how truly nervous he really was about it. That was an odd concept to me, how could a bad score on a test throw out twelve, fourteen years of clubs and grades? And it was also unimportant to me, I didn’t need to take it for culinary school, and my dad could just get a library to let me into any school he found necessary for me.
He didn’t tell me he was that anxious about the test; he passed out right at the beginning of it, and they left him there for the rest of the time. I should have known that was going to happen, I should have been there. I already knew the limits he was testing trying to get into Harvard, almost doing some kind of drug to get in, but I was so worried about my dad and his plans for my future that I neglected Oliver.
Oliver’s app had been a success, and he had a small fortune, all well-deserved, but he planned to drop out, not even finishing high school. I tried to persuade him that wasn’t right, if for nothing else than I would be lonely, but something about what his parents were saying made it seem like it was important.
He enjoyed his money between junior and senior year, but when school came back around, his fortune crashed down. He was back to where he was; scratch that, he was in an even worse place, and he had another anxiety attack, one that showed that he had greatly downplayed his first one.
I bit down on my lip, thinking about my role at the time. My mom came rolling into town and officially disowned me. I was more concerned about that, and was ignoring Oliver, once again. Even worse, I couldn’t help him financially. If I hadn’t been so set on cooking, I could pay someone to move mountains and the sky to get him what he needed. Instead, I just had to be a selfish moron, losing the one thing I offered Oliver.
I shook my head. I can’t believe that I was so ignorant of my best friend’s needs, and his pain, and let him have a panic attack. He’s easily the most important person in my life, and I couldn’t be there for him when he needed me. My head was just so stuck up my ass that I didn’t even notice.
I took a deep breath and looked over at Oliver, filling the suitcases, and smiled, a feeling of guilt because of my failure as a friend. I couldn’t let anything like that happen again, I was going to have to be vigilant and careful that I took care of him, in anyway I can. I can’t let stupid drama about my family distract me from that again.
I slipped the food into the oven then walked over to Oliver. I still felt a bit wary of the limits in the suitcase, but I trusted Oliver as much as I did anybody.
I told him what we were eating, and although he made a face, he shrugged it off.
“We should go to sleep after we eat.” Oliver said.
“But I want to watch a movie.” I whined and did my best to make a pouty face.
“We need to be up early and we’re going to be driving a lot.”
“But right now we’ve got Disney movies to watch.” I said, “There’s so many Disney movies of our childhood to watch and reflect on.”
“My childhood was nothing but a series of pain and lectures from Katie.”
“Come on, please, we don’t have anything else to do.”
We argued for a little while, but just like most of our arguments, one of us didn’t really feel strongly about it. In this argument, Oliver was the one who didn’t really care, and sighed as he got up to the restroom.
“Fine, anything besides High School Musical, you wouldn’t believe how much Taylor made me watch it when it first came out. When part three came out my mom took us to the theater at eight in the morning and didn’t pick us back up until eight at night.”
“Bring back our blankets!” I cheered which resulted in an eye roll.
The chickpeas were done, and I got them and set them on the table, trying a few to make sure they were nice. Savory against my tongue, and crunchy between my teeth, it was nice, like popcorn where each kernel was more sizzling.
I looked through the movies on Disney Plus. To be honest I was feeling a little tired once again and was feeling my eyes getting heavy. The feeling made me think back to late summer nights as a child, before Oliver moved in town. My sleep schedule was all out of whack then, and I often found myself flipping through channels at night trying to find something. Sometimes I watched those strange, creepy shows on Cartoon Network, or the George Lopez show on Nickelodeon, but I often found myself watching really early 2000s movies on Disney Channel.
I saw a movie called Motocrossed, which seemed vaguely familiar, and more less captivating than towns centered around Halloween or girls space travelling in the future.
Oliver came back with one giant blanket for the two of us, mine.
“Donde esta mi blanket?” I asked.
“Dad’s training of Luther could still use some more practice.” Olier said. “It’s in the washer, you fine with sharing?”
“Uh huh.” I patted the spot right beside me. “Hop in muchacho.”
Oliver smiled and sat next to me, our hips touching. I spread the blanket over us, and we propped our feet on the coffee table.
“Why’d you pick this movie.”
“Uh, always been a fan of motorcycling.” I thought it was pretty quick thinking on my part.
“Really?” Oliver asked.
“Yeah.”
“Yeah, right.” Oliver kicked my legs, forcing them to fall to the side.
“I am.” I picked my legs back up and forced mine on top of his, forcing my left foot between his. We wrestled for a moment, before settling into our position, our legs intertwined.
The chickpeas were gone soon; luckily, we keep hand sanitizer and wipes next to us, so we don’t have to get up to wash our hands and we fell comfortably into watching the movie. As it played we got closer and closer which was pretty remarkable, we were almost on top of each other.
The movie’s comparatively slow pace and calmer atmosphere led to us drifting to sleep pretty soon, within the second act. Oliver fell first, his head feeling nice against my shoulder.
Chapter Text
I dreamt again of my Great-Uncle.
Some conversation must have happened, one that I couldn’t recalled when I was plugged into the dream, but could feel the effects it had on me. I felt an eyebrow being raised and a sense of skepticism within me, though I wasn’t sure of the conversation.
It was warm, though I was largely unbothered by it; I could feel summer coming just around the corner, a season that I, the one in the dream, didn’t care about. The two of us sat opposite one another at a table, outside a café named Junior’s. We both had coffees, cups largely full, largely just being used as an excuse to talk.
“I’m really supposed to believe that?” I asked.
The General, which he wanted me to call him, simply smirked, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed. He was dressed in a nice suit, his gray hair cut short and neat, his shoes impeccable, too extravagant to be on the ground
“You’re the one who believes in all these spells, and talismans, and charms.” His voice was deep and gravelly, and more affectionate than it had been in real life. “Are you really saying that what I’m putting out there isn’t possible?”
“Magic isn’t fairy tales, and fantasy.” I answered. “It’s a force of nature, as natural as water or air, not some silly comic book or tv show.”
“Aren’t there quite a number of naysayers in magic in general?” The General asked. “Those who believe a simple potion or spell is impossible; wouldn’t you say those are close-minded people?”
“Yes.” I answered. “But that’s fine with me, I don’t need them to understand magic, makes it better for me if they don’t, in fact.”
“And do you think you’re the first person to understand this, the power of secrecy? The first being?” The General asked. “Since men made cities, hell, since men first huddled together, those creatures, monsters, beasts, whatever label you want to ascribe to them, they knew it was better to live in secrecy, the ones smart enough to think, anyway.”
I rolled my eyes and let out a scoff. “Even if I were to believe you, which is a pretty big if, I might add, what is the reason to tell me? I’m a warlock, a fifteen-year-old one, what could you want from me?”
“Do you not have faith in yourself, Luca?”
“No, on the contrary, I’m pretty much the only person who I can rely on.” I chuckled. “But still, I’m not an idiot, not completely at least. A strange man, who knows so much about me, though I’ve never seen him in my life, comes out of the blue, takes me to coffee, talks about all kinds of monsters, and wants my help; I think I need to vet this a bit.”
“Well, if you trusted me without any suspicion, you wouldn’t be who I needed.” The General laughed. “I need somebody, not gullible, not sentimental, not…sweet, may be the right word.”
“Hmmm.” I thought this assessment was fairly accurate to me. Luca. Not Cooper Bradford. “I’m going to be honest, while this flattery is working fairly well, I’m still leaning towards the theory of you being a schizophrenic stalker.”
“I promise you, everything I’ve talked about is real, and more. More than you can imagine.” The General’s eyes flashed at me. “Things that will make your magic seem as ordinary as a dining room table.”
“But you’re offering no proof?” I asked.
“I can give you proof.” The General smiled wide, not that it met his eyes. “Not now. Not here. It’ll require something from you of course.”
“I have a feeling if I was to do anything with you it’ll require some sacrifice.”
“A smidge.” The General admitted. “But you’ll reap in so much more. A quarter after midnight, at the traintracks.”
“The one that hasn’t run in decades?” I asked. “That seems safe.”
“Cast a protection spell, or whatever you need to.” The General said. “I can’t offer you much in proof right now, but in twelve hours, your world will expand exponentially.”
“Well, it’s a nice offer, but I think I’ll just pretend this never happened and keep an eye on you in the news.”
“Oh, I know you’ll be there, Luca; it was written in the stars for you to help, long before you thought of your first enchantment.” The General said. He stood up, dropped a hundred on the table, and pulled out a cigar. “You and I will be working together for quite a while, boy.”
Chapter Text
July 6th, 2022
We filled the car with our personal suitcases, the briefcase for the cubes, and a satchel for each of us, something quite necessary I find when travelling, though Oliver was a bit hesitant about them. I especially needed the satchel, holding a ring with about a dozen keys on it, too big and clunky for my pockets.
I felt tired and knew I looked it, an air of exhaustion over me, I was barely ever up at this hour, at least not when I had a task to do; I could enjoy the early morning rays shining on Oliver and me during weekends mornings and school breaks, when there was no urgency, no commitment, no duties. The addition of having a task made it seem strenuous and intense and was giving me too much pressure.
Luckily, as I sat in the passenger seat, Oliver played a boring financial podcast, and I pushed the seat all the way down and put on my sleep mask. I always loved to nap in a moving vehicle, there was something cozy about it, the world passing you by, and ignoring all of the worries and troubles of the world.
I didn’t mention to Oliver about my dream, it was much hazier when I woke up, details slipping away, filtered out by consciousness taking over. Even as I laid in the passenger seat and drifted away again, I found myself struggling to remember my dreams, and no new one came to replace it.
When Oliver shook me, it felt like I hardly slept, like all of it was compressed tightly and made it feel like only minutes had passed. I pulled my mask off and blinked rapidly trying to adjust to the bright light.
Connecticut suburbs had been swapped out for New York apartments; instead of houses spread apart by empty yards and gardens and space, apartment buildings placed together tightly, cars parked near every single opening, dozens of people walking on the sidewalks.
“It’s a little dingy for my uncle to live here.” I yawned.
“We’re just a few minutes from there, I didn’t think you would want to go there all tired.” Oliver said. “Plus, you’re about to drive.”
I felt my mouth form into a pout, but knew I was going to have to drive eventually. I wasn’t ever the biggest fan of New York, there was so much going on, so many people, so many targets; it was all erratic and chaotic and I liked a more peaceful kind of atmosphere. I could probably adjust if I had to, I imagine that riding in taxis isn’t too different than limos, but I’m pretty happy with living in the suburbs.
The streets thinned, and the buildings began to spread out once more, even more once we crossed a bridge. We were on a little island, or whatever New Yorkers call it; the ocean just beside us, although it was a pier instead of a beach and was rather empty, only maybe a dozen people for the next ten minutes.
“This place is really deserted.” I noted, “It’s like those gangster flicks when mobsters kill somebody then dump their body.”
“Well, that’s nice and positive thinking, Cooper.” Oliver said.
A large building came into view; it wasn’t especially tall, only about eight stories, but it spread the whole length of four blocks and the width of two. It actually consisted of two buildings, with a little bridge in between the buildings going over the area in between.
Underneath the bridge were four arches, and behind those arches was a gate; cars were parked in two of the arches, so Oliver drove the third one, stopping and rolling down his window.
“Classification?” A voice spoke as soon as the window was down. It was free of any static, coming out crisp and clear, like they were right there, like they were the speaker themselves.
Oliver looked at me, confused, then leaned out the window.
Oliver leaned out the window. “I’m sorry, we were told by someone to pick up a car. Arthur Cushing’s?”
“Cooper Bradford and friend, Oliver Otto?” the voice asked.
Oliver looked at me, surprised to hear his own name. “Uh, yes, that’s us.”
“Alright, pull up just a few feet and Ms. Mendez will be here shortly.”
The gate began opening, drowning out Oliver’s “Thanks.”
Oliver pulled up and shifted the car to park. “I really don’t like to be here.”
“Why?” I asked.
“I don’t really feel comfortable being on military kind of place. I feel like they’re going to charge me for watching an R-rated movie when I was a kid.” Oliver said.
“What do you mean? Military?” I asked.
Oliver rolled his eyes. “That’s the thing where soldiers work, some are in the army, some are in the navy-.”
“I know that.” I snapped. “I just didn’t realize this was a military building.”
“You just really go through life without a care, don’t you?”
I nodded happily, causing Oliver to chuckle.
My door was soon opened, causing me to jump a little. My fears were compounded by seeing a tall, older, muscular man staring at me.
“Cooper Bradford?” The man’s voice was deep, almost booming. He wore a camouflage kind of uniform, and I realized he seemed to be some kind of a soldier.
I nodded, and turned to Oliver, who also was also tense.
“Good, we’ll bring your suitcases to the General’s car.”
I realized there was another man behind him, who walked to the car and opened the backseat, beginning to grab the suitcases.
“The car is just over here, follow us.”
I nodded, flashing the soldier a smile, one he didn’t return; once he left and started grabbing suitcases, I closed my door. “Huh, this isn’t exactly what I expected.”
Oliver nodded. “Yeah, I hope there aren’t soldiers at every place, I want to be in, be out, with as little human interaction as we can.”
In a matter of yards and seconds, the soldiers were putting suitcases in a car, Ms. Mendez watching them with a stern look. Oliver pulled into a parking spot and got out, making sure nothing was missing from the car.
“Mr. Bradford. Mr. Otto.” Ms. Mendez said, walking up to us. “Very glad you two are here.”
Oliver and I greeted her back, and she pulled out a crisp, neat paper, handing it to Oliver.
“This car is electric and self-driving.” Ms. Mendez explained.
“Oh sweet.” I smiled. “I was a little preocupado about driving.”
“What about my car?” Oliver asked.
“It will be here until you come back.” Ms. Mendez answered.
“Strange place this is, he lived here?” I asked.
“No, Mr. Bradford.” Ms. Mendez answered. “This is one of his subsidiaries. His New York Penthouse will be the first place to visit, however. In fact, here is a list of locations where you will be able to charge the car, please plan accordingly.”
Oliver nodded and looked over the list.
“What make is this car?” I asked, noticing the lack of animals or logos.
“It is custom made, by LTI, a little perk for the General.” Ms. Mendez explained. “Less than ten of these exists.”
“Bueno!” I cheered.
“Yes, very.” Ms. Mendez said. “Do you know how to charge and insert directions?”
Oliver and I both shook our heads, and Ms. Mendez sighed.
She explained it to us, in an exasperated tone, using technical words and language. I couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease as the soldiers finished packing the car, and just stood around, watching Oliver and I. Their stares felt very strong, and I felt like I could feel every one of their feelings about me, and none of them were great.
“Alright, you’re ready to go about now.” Ms. Mendez said. “Any more questions.” We both shook our heads. “Great, make sure you don’t miss any of the cubes, that’s our main proof; here are the keys.”
She handed me a ring of keys, dozens of keys adorning them, with a surprising heaviness to it. It shook as I set it in my satchel, like a Christmas carol almost.
“Thank you.” I said, and waved, and saluted all of them.
“No need for that Mr. Bradford.” Ms. Mendez said. “You and Mr. Otto have a nice trip.”
The soldiers watched us as we left, and Oliver and I refrained from speaking until were out of this complex area thing.
Chapter Text
We both agreed that it was odd, though we moved on, neither of us were too familiar with the military or their ways, so we didn’t assume much of it.
I sat in the driver’s seat, not paying any attention to the road in front of me, feeling so cool and neat and futuristic. It was like a robot was my chauffeur, I loved the lack of responsibility and freedom to just look at my phone the whole time. Oliver didn’t take to well to it, seeming very fidgety and looking around nervously, on alert.
“Okay, when we get to his penthouse, we’re switching, you understand?” Oliver said. “You’re too…comfortable with a self-driving car.”
“Yeah, that’s fine.” I answered. “You know, we’re going to need to get board games, something to keep us entertained while we drive.”
“We’re not playing board games on the road.” Oliver said.
Oliver led us to a tall apartment building, over a hundred stories, made of glass and metal, new and modern. It was much nicer, much more elegant than his Connecticut apartment building, and especially more than that complex with the soldiers.
There was a nice spot on the street, plenty of room to parallel park in, though I still hit a trashcan, when I looked at Oliver he was shaking his head, his face in his hands. Oliver and I got out of the car and went to the building, and for some reason, I felt my stomach drop as I reached the door of the building.
It was a little silly to be nervous about, but this felt like the first step, somehow. Getting in the car, should have felt like the first step; or getting in Oliver’s car when we left in the morning, or deciding to go, or arriving at his Hartford apartment, or even listening to the voicemail, but all of the dimmed in comparison to standing there.
I don’t even know why I felt nervous. The chances of seeing my relatives were pretty high, not my parents, considering what he had written about them and how she had forbidden me from talking about him whenever I had asked.
I was hit by that memory as I reached for the knob. Me in my room after our dinner with Uncle Arthur, her coming in while one of the nannies read me a story, mom deciding to read it instead, a rarity for her. Memories of her seeming so scared, so nervous, something I never saw from my mom flashed in my mind. She was always stoic, sometimes putting up a mask of low-energy pep, but never afraid like she had been.
I took myself out of my memories, shaking my head to knock them out. I inhaled slowly, and exhaled sharply, shaking my head as I gripped the doorknob and walked through.
Inside, stood a doorman, forties, Asian, looking quite happy and pleased.
“Good morning, sirs.” The man said, his accent a bit heavy.
“Good morning.” We said at the same time.
“I’m here to go to my uncle’s apartment.” I said, “Arthur Cushing.”
The man’s smile fell, but he quickly replaced it with another smile, one with no genuine feeling behind it.
“Oh, well, he lives upstairs, in the penthouse.” The man said. “I have not seen General Cushing in a while, I don’t think he’s there.”
“Oh yeah, he’s dead.” I said, “For a couple of days.”
The man let out a breath of relief and some more of a relaxed smile.
“I am very sorry for your loss.” The doorman said.
“Oh, well, we only met once.” I said, “And it had been over ten years.”
“Still, I am sorry.” The Doorman answered once again.
“Don’t be too sorry, he’s about to get a ton of money.” Oliver said.
We waved bye to the man and went up to the elevator. “He didn’t seem like he liked my uncle a lot.”
“Well, your uncle was probably pretty mean and rude and rich, but the doorman is still alive, so I think we know the winner.” Oliver said.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” The elevator lifted us up. “When we’re drinking again, we should toast to being alive.”
The elevator stopped at a little corridor, not much bigger than a closet, one of mine, not the Otto’s, that only consisted of the elevator door, and the door to the penthouse, and a large American flag.
I reached to the door and tried to twist it, only to be met with resistance to my surprise.
“Cooper, you need the keys.”
“Oh, yeah, right.” I laughed.
I shook my head and stuck my hand into the satchel, digging for the keys. I grabbed the large ring and looked for the one labeled Manhattan. A few seconds later I had stuck the key in, and smiled as we walked in.
“Nice place.” Oliver noted.
It was evident that this apartment was more personal and lived-in than his Connecticut apartment. It opened into the living room, and was still luxurious and held style, but there were more casual things within the apartment. An unfolded blanket was on the couch, cups on the side tables, magazines on the coffee table around the cube that I had to get.
I went up and grabbed it, smiling at myself. Only days’ worth of travel and a couple of dozen more left and I would finally make a family member proud of me.
I felt my stomach gurgle and realized that we hadn’t eaten anything in a while, and my stomach was beginning to gurgle.
“I’m hungry, how about you?” I asked Oliver.
Oliver shrugged. “I could eat.”
“Great. Do you want to get something to eat?” I asked. “Or do you want me to see if there is something here to cook up.”
“Whatever’s easiest for you.” Oliver said.
I nodded and started walking, Oliver on my heels as we searched for the kitchen.
It was only the next room, and it was a pretty immaculate kitchen, looking like it had just been cleaned, though it was more likely that it was it was just hardly used.
Opening the fridge proved I was right and we turned back to the living room.
“Order food here or go out to eat?” I asked.
“Neither we just need to go through a drive-through.”
“Dude, we’re in New York, you know how many restaurants there are here?” I asked. “This is the perfect time to eat at your first high-class New York restaurant.”
Oliver chuckled. “Those require reservations, we’re just going to end up in a restaurant run by a down on their luck couple who are going to stare at us and make us feel guilty.”
“I’m a Bradford.” I reminded him. “I can get us a reservation.”
Oliver smiled, beginning to laugh, and I joined in as I took out my phone, looking for the number of Petite Nourriture, Gros Prix.
“You know, someday you’re going to find someplace where your name doesn’t carry weight.” Oliver warned me.
“Well, I should wear a sweater then, because hell will be pretty cold on that day.” I said, then pondered if I had gotten anywhere close to how that is supposed to be said. Judging from Oliver’s laugh, I was in the wrong.
I held the phone up to my ear and looked at Oliver’s laughing face, not wanting to join in, but finding myself laughing too.
Oliver’s laugh died pretty quickly, with him just smiling at me. A smile that was deep, and warm, and different than any smile I had seen, but also familiar for some reason. It was a nice smile, I liked seeing it.
Out of nowhere Oliver’s smile fell, and a worried look replaced it; he quickly got rid of that face and put back on an obviously fake smile. I was about to ask him what was wrong when the call was answered, and his look completely slipped from my fallible Bradford mind completely.
Chapter Text
Breakfast was decent, though after eating with the Otto family I had kind of subscribed to the idea that more equals more and found myself yearning for some more. We left New York in my great-uncle’s car, a few hours behind schedule. We made it to Philadelphia and quickly got another one of the cubes before heading to the road again towards Columbus.
The road was still busy and crowded but was considerably less so than between New York and Philadelphia. We were headed towards Ohio, there must not have been a lot of traffic going into it; I tried to think of what I knew about Ohio, but besides being the setting of Glee, I came up empty.
The sun was still shining bright, cloudless and high in the sky; although it was a beautiful day, I was so grateful I was in air-conditioning, a constant flux of air on me. It was nice and cool inside, and so relaxing, especially now that I didn’t have to worry at all about driving.
Oliver was still tense however, loosely holding the wheel, sitting up straight and alert, putting more focus on the movements of the car than he did when he actually drove. He wouldn’t go as far to actually take the wheel and drive it itself, making his nervousness more annoying.
In fact, he had been awfully annoyingly nervous since New York, and rather antsy. Tapping his foot, his fingers, chewing his lip. Something was bugging him, and I couldn’t figure out what it was, and he wasn’t telling me, though I’ve asked quite a number of times.
It was beginning to cross from slightly annoying the worrisome. I don’t know exactly what was bothering him, it could be anything, but I needed to know. It could be something nerve-wracking, something he’s trying to bottle up and keep inside. Which to be fair, wasn’t very Oliver-like, he always liked to complain and let everybody know how he was suffering.
I wanted to pressure him some more, get him to answer me, but right now that wasn’t the best move. It was better to just let him come to me, as long as he did before the trip was over, anymore than that and I was going to have to get tough with my number one muchacho.
“Okay, I guess we can stop and go through a drive through restaurant.” I said, “It’s Ohio, there’s not going to be much here.”
“You know I want to tell you that’s offensive, but I think we can risk offending all ten people that live in Ohio.” Oliver said.
“Why would he have an apartment here?” I asked. “It’s corn, and road, not really a lot to visit.”
“I’m not him, Cooper, I’m not sure.” Oliver replied, then a few moments later added, “You know, until the nineties Ohio had more people there than Florida?”
“Really? Ohio?”
Oliver nodded. “And Ohio is still the seventh most populated US state.”
“This? Here?” I asked. “There’s so many states that have to have more.”
“Yeah?” Oliver asked. “Name some.”
“There’s California, New York, Florida, Texas.” I rattled off, before stopping, trying to think of some more states. “Nevada?”
“Puerto Rico has more.” Oliver said.
“Colorado!”
“Down in the twenties in population.”
“Why do you know this?” I asked.
“I was looking up to see how many people I’d risk having to talk to; really thought I would luck out on Ohio.”
I shrugged, losing interest in the conversation, though I was really surprised that so many Americans were in this place. There was nothing. And what about those other states? I couldn’t even imagine Wyoming.
This was our longest stretch, by far of the trip, eight hours from these two places, so I was losing steam second by second. My phone only had so much on it, and it wasn’t really any fun to watch anything unless I had Oliver to give quips to cheesy parts and answers when I got confused. I tried to think of something to do, something fun and exciting, but there was only so much to do in the car, especially when Oliver was so tense.
“What do poor people do for fun on these things?” I asked.
“Nothing, we suffer, grow to hate each other, take three days to recover, enjoy vacation for a day, then get back in the car, go home, and promise to book plane tickets next time.” Oliver said. “And guess what; we never did.”
“Come on, there must be some fun things you do?” I asked.
“No, either my dad played a historical audio book on a CD, historical fiction if we were good, and my mom would begin road games and argue with Taylor about it, and I would be miserable.”
“What would Anna-Kat do?”
“She would read, get sick because she was reading in a car, we’d pull over clean up, then my mom would keep letting her read.”
“Yuck, books.” I groaned. “Every good one has been made into a movie, or a television series if lucky.”
I saw Oliver smirk, and he looked like he was on the verge of saying something snarky, but a look of pain crossed over his face.
“Tu bueno?” I asked.
Oliver nodded. “Yeah, I’m good.”
“You sure?” I asked.
Oliver nodded. “Yeah, I just need to get to the bathroom, we’re pretty close to the apartment, it’ll be fine.”
I nodded, though I knew he was lying, first of all we were still five hours from the apartment, though I couldn’t understand why, or what was bugging him.
Harvard: he’s in, sure a little nervous about standing out, but he’ll get over that easily. Girls: since things with Audra fizzled out, he hadn’t even tried dating, being really focused on getting into Harvard. Besides that, we’ve been pretty happy without dates, we could go to movies and restaurants and concerts and fairs and whatever with just the two of us and it was perfectly fine.
He would have told me something if it was about his parents or sisters, so I just couldn’t think what it could be about. I pretty much covered every facet of his life, and I was coming up blank. I knew I couldn’t force him, or at least that I shouldn’t.
“Wait, what games did you play in the car?” I asked.
Oliver groaned, casualness returning to him, whatever panic he was thinking about gone for the moment. “The alphabet game, the state license plate game-.”
“Amigo, these are just words to me.” I said, “I don’t know what any of this mean.”
“Probably for the better, I don’t think you can name more than seven states anyway.” Oliver laughed.
“I can name any that are really populated.” I argued. “I can name them, I’ve been to most of them, which is more than you have been.”
“Yeah, well it’s hard to believe we’re going to be seeing to Alaskan or Hawaiian plates, or much of any others in this graveyard state.” Oliver said. “The alphabet game, is a stupid name to begin with, but we both look for signs that have a word starting with a. Then b, then c, then-.”
“Okay, I know how the alphabet works.” I sighed.
“Great. But you never find anything that begin with a q or an x, and y and z aren’t too common either, so you pretty much just end without a resolution.”
“And this is fun to poor people?” I asked.
“No, we all hate it.” Oliver said. “But there weren’t many options before we each got our own phones.”
“Well, I got my phone when I was four.” I said, “Steve Jobs gave it to me at one of my birthdays before he unveiled it.”
“That’s funny, mom’s friend, Billy, gave me a cow patty in a box for my fourth birthday.” Oliver said. “God, I hate that man.”
“Well, I think it’ll be fun!”
“You do know what cow patties are, right?”
“Not that, the alphabet game. Let’s try.”
“Cooper, I was complaining about those games, not endorsing them.”
“But you won’t watch movies with me, you need to do something with me.”
“Cooper, I hate all these games.” I pouted and locked my fingers together, making my best begging face. Oliver turned to me and released a sigh, that seemed a little nervous. “Fine, at least you’ll know the alphabet, unlike Taylor, and you won’t flip the car around to recheck a sign.”
“Yay, so we’re going to play?”
“Yeah, fine, its’ your funeral.”
Chapter Text
During the next five hours, I realized what Oliver meant, he got to the letter q while I was still on g. He was shouting, screaming out the letters, speeding to see signs; I had seen him competitive before, but not like that. After that early start though, he got stuck and I was able to catch up to him, the game lulled on q.
Columbus was quick in, quick out, and we made sure to get out of there before some high schoolers started singing Journey or showtunes to us.
The road was still comparatively empty, I guess Indianapolis wasn’t a big hotbed of excitement, so it was pretty easy-riding, Oliver finally leaning back, only one hand on the wheel, and the other hand holding his phone; he was only glancing at his phone on the rarest of occasions and kept his foot hovering right above the brakes.
I was getting really annoyed with being in the car, and I lightly wondered if I was going to suffer from cabin fever within it. A quick stop in the Hoosier apartment, off to Chicago, and we were going calling the trip for the night.
Oliver parked along the street of Indianapolis, just another city, just the same as the rest, maybe there was unique quirks and charms to it that set it apart from the rest of the country, but right now it looked like it was just another place. I was realizing on this trip that I didn’t enjoy the architecture of American cities much, especially when you’re almost exclusively travelling through an interstate, only seeing fast food restaurants, gas stations, and some billboards.
A couch, a tv, a coffee table with a cube on it; all of the things we were expecting, all Hoosier decorations and dull colors. I turned to the door, ready to go.
“Wait, I’ve got to pee.” Oliver said.
“Ugh.” I groaned. “Vamanos hombre, I guess I’ll let you.”
“Gee, thanks my liege.”
Oliver left the room, and though a part of me wanted to collapse and rest, I enjoyed being able to walk, to stretch, and to breathe. I had traveled so much further than this before, multiple times, but always by plane or boat, somewhere I could actually walk around as we went to our new destination.
I walked through the apartment, looking through bedroom, and bathroom and all the rooms he had, before stumbling into the master bedroom.
A large bed that looked like it hadn’t ever been used faced a large window with a balcony, one that hung high over the city and all its inhabitants. It had been a good bit since I stood over everybody, looking down on them in the ground, feeling superiority over them; of course, I’ve since realized this wasn’t exactly a good thing, but it was still nice to look from such a height.
There was a nice breeze on the otherwise bare balcony, coolness grazing my arms, ruffling my hair. It felt nice, almost as good as an air conditioner.
I smiled as I felt enveloped by the urban air. I looked around the city, lights starting to turn on as the sun began falling below the horizon. I saw other people, on the street, on balconies, on roofs.
One of the few lessons I really learned from my parents was not to care about what other people thought, or felt, or lived; none but a very few small of people, all in a certain tax bracket. Others weren’t important to the Bradford family or our lives, and we didn’t have to worry about them, not where they were going to eat or sleep or live.
Meeting Oliver really changed that; I actually cared about him, and his thoughts and feelings. I realized Oliver was his own person, independent of me, and that the idea of the world existing to entertain or serve the Bradfords was slowly chipped away. I had friends before Oliver, but I don’t know if I could ever really say they were genuine friends. They were so busy trying to impress me, usually failing, and I just treated them like interchangeable members of a group. None of them stood out to me. While I think Oliver is better than them, I have to say my obliviousness and the lack of true attachment I had to them was really my fault.
I grew to care about his family, and other people. Now I wondered how other people lived, and their wants and needs, hopes and dreams. Oliver told me I was usually way off with my guesses, but it was still a nice activity.
I saw a woman and a girl walking together, mouths moving quickly, and I wondered where they were headed off to. I saw a man and a woman on another balcony, calmly talking, and wondered about their relationship and if it would last. I saw men standing atop a roof, and wondered why they were pointing a pair of binoculars at me.
I did a double-take and looked down again. The binoculars were gone, and the men were just sitting there, talking aimlessly to one another; if I was just a few EQ points stupider, I might have been fooled to thinking they hadn’t been watching me, I could tell from the posture, the nervousness, the tension, they were much less coy and stealthy than Westport housewives.
I kept staring them down, two men, muscular, hard-looking faces with closely cut hair and sweats on. They paid me no mind, or they did so out of the corner of their eyes without me seeing, which was even worse; they could have passed off that they were just looking at me, but it was obvious that they were now pretending to not have been looking.
“Alright, let’s go.”
The sound of Oliver’s voice caused me to jump, made my heart erratic. I turned to him and glared at his confused expression.
“What is wrong with you?” I asked, “You could have killed me.”
“Dude, calm down, what the big deal?”
“There are hombres down there, they were looking at me.” I whispered.
Oliver didn’t seem alert or shocked as he should have, but he looked down. “Alright, well, they’re just talking to each other now. I mean, I know you think you’re god’s gift to Connecticut, but Indiana may not feel the same way.”
“I’m serious, they were watching me.”
“Cooper, it’s not that weird to look around and see people.” Oliver said, looking at the men. “It is a bit odd that they’re doing everything in their power to pretend they aren’t looking.”
“Right?” I asked. “They’re trying so hard to ignore me.”
“Well, maybe they’re just embarrassed you caught them looking.”
“But they had binoculars, aimed at me.”
This brought concern to Oliver. “Okay, now that’s weird.” He looked back at the men, trying not to be so obvious. “But…maybe there’s some reason.”
“Like what?” I asked.
Oliver shrugged. “I’m not sure, but we better quit talking about it in one of his apartments. Or in his car. Besides, I’m sure there’s plenty of reasons for them to look up here.”
I had a bad feeling about it, something irking my brain, but I had to agree with Oliver; it could be dangerous to talk about this here, and I’m pretty adorable, that might be why they were looking at me.
“You should go to the restroom, first.” Oliver said.
“I don’t need to go to el bano.”
“Yeah you do.”
I shrugged; I probably did, and it turned out that he was right.
I walked back into the living room, Oliver sitting on the couch, holding a book.
“Whatcha reading?” I asked.
“I don’t know, something about the occult.” Oliver said. “Witches, demons, ghosts.”
“I wonder why he would have that?”
Oliver shrugged, closing the book and standing. “I don’t know, but it’s weird as hell, didn’t seem like a big fan of the X-Files to me.”
Chapter Text
I dropped to the couch of the Chicago apartment, so grateful I was out of that damn car. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the feeling of cool, smooth leather against my face.
I felt Oliver drop against me, eliciting a groan of satisfaction from him. I can’t believe how exhausting road trips are, and we didn’t really even do anything.
Oliver quickly turned something on, mindless chatter rattling as we both enjoyed being completely still and stable. I thought flying was hard, I can’t believe people do this, use a car across the country, and so often, I am going to have to thank truck drivers eventually. Of course, the road trip would have been a lot smoother if Oliver had relaxed, or just told me whatever was bothering him. He kept switching, going between normal Oliver, and a version of Oliver that was rigid and trying to play it cool, which wasn’t too different than middle-school Oliver, but had a deep sense of nervousness to him that made me nervous.
After a while Oliver eventually spoke up, taking me from my thoughts. “Do you want to go out, or order in?”
“I want them to shovel the mouth into my food so I can just fall asleep right here.”
Oliver chuckled. “Okay, so delivery, what are you in the mood for?”
I shot down a list of Oliver’s suggestions, before accepting deciding on that restaurant with the clown with the rhyming name. My dad owns a few shares in the company, I may as well try it out.
Our energy perked a bit, and we began chatting, looking around the apartment deciding out of fairness to both to take guest bedrooms, though I planned to sneak into the master bedroom later; I needed it, I am accustomed to a certain kind of bed size.
We talked about things we wanted for our future apartment. We planned on getting one sophomore year; Harvard requires Oliver to live off campus the first year, and though I was planning on rooming with him, it wouldn’t be our own place, full of our unique charm and personal touches. I love the Otto house, but it’s very Katie heavy, not enough Oliver and Cooper poking through.
I did notice, just a little, the occasional wince when I talked about our apartment.
As we looked around Oliver found another copy of the spooky book on a shelf, and he began thumbing through it, his focus awfully intense.
“Why are you so interested in it?” I asked when we made it back to the living room.
“It’s weird, there’s no publisher, no copyright, no title or author.” Oliver said. “It’s written with a big preamble at the beginning, in a clinical way, and it has sketches and illustrations in it.”
“That’s good, I hate libros without pictures.” I thought about it and added. “Actually, I hate most books.”
Oliver sighed. “I think you’re missing the point of what I’m trying to say.”
“It’s a weird book, big deal; I was being watched by men, and you barely cared.”
“Well, driving around so much is making me weird, and miserable.” Oliver said. “I’m sorry I was distracted.”
“Yeah, I can tell, hombre.” I tried to speak gently, hinting at his little quirky attitude.
Oliver stiffened at that and looked deeper into the book. “Yeah, sorry I wasn’t as concerned with those guys looking at you, I was just…out of it…but look at all of this stuff.”
I glanced at it, grotesque and detailed images of vampires covered the pages. Some were sketches, while others were paintings and even photographs of people dressing like them.
“Isn’t there something with mirrors in cameras that make them not able to be filmed?” I asked.
“There’s a lot of discussion about that.” Oliver said. “Useless, futile, arguments about something that doesn’t even exist.”
“You’ve taken part in these arguments, haven’t you?”
“It has a corporeal form, and there are no silver in those cameras, of course phones can take pictures!”
I giggled at his outburst, and after a few moments Oliver joined in my laughter, his chuckle warm and soft.
Our laughs echoed in the apartment, drowning out the sound of the sitcom in the background. It was good and nice laughing with Oliver, but I noticed after a few minutes that he had stopped.
I looked at him, and seeing the pained, worried expression on his face caused my own laugh to cease.
“What’s wrong amigo?” I asked.
Oliver shook his head; his eyes were cast away, his lip was being crushed under the pressure of his teeth, and I could see a trickle of sweat on him.
“You know, you can talk to me, it’s cool dude.” I said, hoping, really hard that he would confide in me, but a knock on the door took our attention.
“Could you go get it, dude, I’m going to find a shower.” Oliver managed to get out, which I guessed meant that Oliver was keeping it under lock and key for now.
I nodded, holding in my worried sighed, and got up to the door, hoping that I could find a way to help him, somehow.
Chapter Text
Another night led to another dream.
I was on my ass, my hands pressed against the gravel. I felt my heartbeat racing and felt the burning stones of my palms. I had just scooted away from something I had seen on the train tracks, something I couldn’t remember exactly, but I knew it had been shattering to my worldview.
“What the hell was that?” I asked, screaming.
The General was chuckling to himself, standing on the track, blood of whatever had been there was coating his suit. “I told you…something you never would have believed if I hadn’t shown you.”
“I…I…”
“Don’t want any part of this?” The General asked. “Don’t want to know these secrets? Don’t want to know what’s behind the veil?”
I couldn’t breathe. My lungs were going to pop, I was going to pass out, or throw up, or just plain die, on the abandoned train tracks, found in the morning.
“I’ll give you a few seconds, to recollect yourself.”
The tone, just a hint of smugness, a dash of condensation, was like a kick to the stomach. Another person who didn’t believe in me, another who didn’t think I was serious, didn’t think I was worth it, and thought I was so below them. Just like my parents, or Gretchen, or Sam or Kate. I shook my head. The General wasn’t going to look at me like that.
It wasn’t only a kick in my stomach, but also in my pants, because that comment stabilized me, let me recollect myself sooner than I probably otherwise would have. When I did regain my breath, I looked at him, with a glare. “What is this? You trying to make me think my own magic is small and useless?”
“Oh Luca, get over that victim mentality that comes with your generation.” The General admonished me. “Of course not, if I wanted to do that, I’d have allow that beast to eat you, and then laugh maniacally like I was a Bond villain. No, no Luca, I need you, I trust you, and I want you.”
I felt more at ease, not fully, but some, and leaned back against my palms. I didn’t trust this man, not wholly, but he was right about the fact that I could have gotten killed by that creature.
“Okay, you don’t want me dead, but you want something from me?”
“Not from you, for you.” The General emphasized. “Though of course, I do want a bit, just a little bit, that is. To put it plainly, I want your help, capturing these things, these creatures, and hundreds of others like it.”
“How?” I asked. “My magic…it’s slow, it keeps itself hidden, it’s not like…that…it’s not like a fantasy novel.”
“It can be; it doesn’t have to be hidden and small, not at all, not with a bit of training, a cauldron, a wand.”
I shook my head. “I…I can’t, what about everybody…my parents and Gretchen…they wouldn’t allow this.”
“You leave that to me.” The General said. “That is, if you want to do this, if you want to help me.”
I thought about it. It would be something, something more than working in that crappy store, in this crappy town. And I would love, kill, to be able to do half of the magic I now knew existed. But to do what? To help? To be a damn Samaritan, an assistant to the public? With all of this magic at my fingertips, just to be a damn civil servant? No better than a lowly janitor just cleaning up some mess?
“Help you what? Be a zookeeper? A super-hero?” I asked. This was crazy, and outlandish, to risk my life for this little thing.
“Don’t be naïve, we aren’t doing this just out of altruism, we’re doing this for ourselves above anything else.” The General said. “For people like you and me, for power.”
I raised an eyebrow and thought that the pot had just gotten sweeter, much more interesting.
Chapter Text
July 7th, 2022
Oliver was acting normal once again when he came back from his shower, and if he let the mask of casualness slip at all, I didn’t notice. We watched a movie, some 2000s comedy that was funny, but kind of dated and sexist. The food was surprisingly good, I didn’t know fast food was that good, so salty and warm and I had a feeling in my stomach that made me want more. It was like Mrs. Otto’s food almost, and I could tell there was a lot of fat and calories there.
The night was nice and smooth, except that when I snuck into the master bedroom, Oliver was already in there, sleeping, laying on his stomach with his head turned to the window. I felt a little shocked and betrayed that he would take it after we promised not to, though it was hypocritical, because I was trying to take it too.
I decided, oh well, if girls can do it, we can, we’re just as close as any other pair of besties and I was already in my pajamas, besides we fell asleep on the couch together dozens of times, this was no different. I went to the closet and grabbed an extra blanket, silk, thread counted. It was lucky he was sleeping on the left side, I’ve always liked the right better.
His body was nice and warm, not that I touched it, but I could feel it emitting from across the bed. If I was stuck in a mountain without heat, I would think he would make a nice cuddle-buddy to keep me from catching hyperthermia; Mrs. Otto would probably be a lot better though, I know that woman has some heat on her.
The dream occurred while I was laying with Oliver. It was so weird; all of these dreams with my Great-Uncle Arthur were. They were like snippets, more memories than dreams, but that didn’t make sense, I was in Westport during that time. There weren’t any surreal elements, I wasn’t shapeshifting from being one person to another, and my uncle wasn’t turning into something like a bear, and there weren’t cartoon characters just standing around like Gumball.
When I awoke, it was to Oliver’s shouts, him already out of bed, and incredibly pissed at me for trying to take the master bedroom, going on a rant, him being so mad, he made us leave at four in the morning.
“You know I’ve never had anything like that, you could have just let me have it.” Oliver complained, his face red with anger.
“Lo siento, dude.” I said, “I promise you can have them for the rest of the trip.” Oliver still looked upset and was pursing his lips tight. “And I promise, when we move into our first apartment, you’ll get the master bedroom.”
Oliver snorted, but wasn’t full of light-heartedness and brevity, but was kind of bitter sounding.
“You okay, dude?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, I don’t know why you keep asking!” Oliver shouted, showcasing exactly why I was asking. “Come on, let’s go.”
I took a breath, wondering if I should call Oliver’s parents to try and get help, or his sisters, but then I thought that it probably wouldn’t make him happy. And then I thought that they probably wouldn’t care. Mr. Otto and Anna-Kat would, but Mrs. Otto and Taylor wouldn’t care unless she actually saw it themselves.
I so wish he wouldn’t keep whatever this was a secret, secrets are never good for the two of us. Not the secret about him being poor, or me pretending to be spending time with my parents, and I doubt this could be good for us either. I just hoped it was something not serious, something simple and fine, and not wholly devastating.
“Whatever.” Oliver snapped. “Listen, I’m going to sleep in the backseat, and you’re going to drive.”
“Oliver, the interstate!” I whined. “And getting on it, that’s so dificil.”
“Cooper, it’s self-driving, and it’s so early nobody will be there.” Oliver said to my shocked face. After a second, he sighed. “I’ll stay up the first fifteen minutes to make sure you’re alright.”
“But, Oliver, I’m scared, I’m not a great driver.”
“Yeah, I’m scared too, Cooper.”
Oliver wouldn’t hear any of my arguments, and I had to sit behind the wheel as he laid behind me. I understood his nervousness about driving, I felt like a wreck was going to happen any second, and I was afraid of how good my grip was, and how fast I was going, how fast the other cars were going, the weather conditions and how close some birds looked above. Oliver fell asleep quickly, leaving me at the wheel alone and scared, wishing he would wake up and help me.
After making it to Louisville, Oliver woke up in a more merciful mood, most of his anger dissipated and a soft, apologetic smile on his face. He allowed me to go to the backseat and sleep, and I did until we reached Nashville, and then I moved to the passenger seat, until we reached Memphis where we switched drivers again until we reached Oklahoma City, where we decided to rest. I felt pretty powerful being behind the wheel for seven hours, me and the kind of open road, just me and my best amigo.
The trip was mostly uneventful, Oliver acted completely normal after his nap and the naps gave the trip a little variety. We ate McDonalds both times we went out, and Oliver told me I was going to have to watch out before I got bloated and addicted. Oliver pointed out the oddities in the spooky book, of which there were copies in every single apartment, and I forgot all about the men I had seen. We didn’t see a single Q on the whole drive, keeping our game at a standstill.
We sat on the couch in my great-uncle’s Oklahoma City apartment, which just sounded so funny to me, I can’t believe Oklahoma was a real place. Some police drama played in the background as we tried to decide what to do for dinner.
“I really don’t think you should eat that again,” Oliver warned, “You already ate four burgers and forty nuggets and like a hundred fries.”
“I’ve heard your mom has eaten more than that.”
“Yeah, Cooper, they didn’t call her the second fattest housewife as a term of endearment.” Oliver said.
I shrugged, wondering if I could get it delivered while Oliver was sleeping.
“We could go to a movie and after, go around and see what’s around.” I thought back to what had come out recently. “There’s that phone movie, or the newest Thor?”
Oliver’s frown returned. “No, I don’t want to go out.”
“Why?” I looked at him, and could see that weird, shameful feeling coming back, and knew I shouldn’t push, not right now. “Okay, that’s cool, not much to do in Oklahoma anyway. We can run to the grocery store real quick, and I’ll make something.”
Oliver nodded, though he quickly lost his energy. “Yeah, that’s good, you mind going alone, I think I’m going to shower.”
I did not want to go alone, not this late, but I understood Oliver needed his space, and room for whatever he was going through.
“Yeah, sure, I’ll go, let me know if you need anything, anything at all, comprende?” I asked.
Oliver nodded, though it did not give me any kind of relief. I still left, hoping for the best.
Chapter Text
The grocery store in Oklahoma City was empty except for some high school looking students and workers. It smelt very sterile, and clean, having to lean in really close to get a scent of any of the fruits and vegetables. Besides the 2000s soft pop music playing overhead, quiet teenage chatter, my footsteps, and the squeaking wheel of my cart were the only noise within.
I had decided on a lasagna, just a real quick one, something simple that I knew Oliver liked. His mom tried to make a lasagna business based on her recipe, and Oliver had helped with it, so I knew he would appreciate it, and it might make it open up.
Girls, Harvard, parents, sisters; I went around all of these things, trying to see what was making him upset, trying to think. All I could think of was him being nervous about seeing rich people at my great-uncle’s estate, which made sense to me; even though he just lived eight years in Westport, all of the rich women hated his guts, mostly because of Senora Otto.
Oliver was my best amigo, friend, buddy, pal, I wouldn’t let any of my relatives say anything to him that would hurt him, and what could they say? He was perfectly mannered, knew all of the right things to say, and the right way to act; he was going to do fine, Mrs. Otto not being with us would be a huge plus for his first impression.
As I moved from the produce, I thought about these relatives. I didn’t know any of them; mom didn’t really care for her family after her parents died; outside of major holidays she stayed out of the country. When social media became a thing, she upgraded to visiting them once every quarter, but we usually only shot a quick photo with them and left.
I knew they were rich, old money, before the pilgrims ever set sail kind of old money, made my father’s family fortune look new. I wondered why one of them, my great-uncle, became a general. He never had to work, not even for a second, what would drive him to the military?
I couldn’t imagine working for the military; granted, I couldn’t imagine working at all two years ago, but still, being in the army seems scary, like firefighting, except the fire can aim. I like America and all, but I wouldn’t die or really work for it, and especially not kill for it.
I was knocked out of my thoughts as I turned down another aisle, and I saw a trio of teenagers leaning against the stacks, which seemed kind of rude to me, being that people may need to buy groceries. I ignored it and simply smiled at them.
The one on the left, a girl with long brown hair, and tan skin offered me a smile; the one in the middle, a short, hairy guy with a large hoodie glared at me; the one on the right, a tall girl with short, cropped hair smiled at me, with a wide grin, and squeezed eyes that I quickly realized was mocking me.
“Real happy tonight, aren’t we?” the guy asked. “Everything is just glorious, real chipper, without a care in the world, huh?”
“Huh?” I asked, my smile falling off.
“It’s just a great night, happy there, aren’t you? Not a care in the [bleep]ing world, huh?” (He didn’t say bleep, but I don’t care for cursing).
“I don’t want any trouble, I’ll just go.” I said, letting a little laugh out, that did nothing to ease the tension.
“Are you happy?” the short-haired girl asked. “Happy with what you’re doing?”
“Uh, pretty happy, I like lasagna.” I gestured to the groceries. “It’s not my favorite, kind of feel like Garfield.”
“Do you think we’re all morons?” the guy asked, his voice roaring, gravel-like as he stepped up to me. “Do you think we’re all going to fall for that crap?”
“I mean, I don’t think anybody is actually going to think I’m Garfield, it’s just a simile, I think, maybe a metaphor.” I said, backing up.
The girl with the long hair moved behind me, and I smelled the ocean on her. The girl with short hair moved to the side, smelling like iron and sugar, grabbing my chin and turning me to face her.
“What kind of pleasure do you receive from this?” the woman asked, each syllable of her mouth sounding like ice cracking.
“None, really.” I answered, “I think I’m more vanilla, you know, and I don’t think this is exactly consensual.”
“Do you think this crap is funny, you damn moron!” the guy shouted, coming up, smelling like earth and musk. “Quit being a smart ass!”
“I’m not smart.” I panicked, “I don’t read, or study, or anything, I’m stupid, I swear.”
“Stop.” The other girl, with the long brown hair spoke, her voice as smooth as silk.
A smile spread on the guy’s face, all maliciousness dripping off of him as he backed away. The short-haired girl’s face remained stern, but she backed away, her eyes remained fixated in a glare on me.
“Do you understand any of this?” the long-haired girl asked. “Do you have any idea what we’re talking about? Tell me the truth.”
I shook my head. “No, I am confused, and scared, and hungry, but also feel like I’m going to vomit.”
The brunette smiled, but there was a certain sadness to her.
“I want you to finish your shopping, go back to the apartment. I want you not to worry about this at all, and I want you to have a good night. You will do all of that. Understood?”
Any tension slipped from me, and I felt a smile spread over my face.
“Okie-dokie.” I said, “Have a good night.”
I didn’t care about the angry, hostile looks coming from the trio, or what they wanted. She told me not to worry, so I didn’t, and that was as simple as that.
Chapter Text
The night was good, without any problems for Oliver. If he was nervous in the slightest, he didn’t let on, or perhaps I completely ignored it. We played the Switch, watched some movies, ate lasagna, and that was it, a pretty normal night for the two of us.
The dream was less pleasant, however.
I remember sneaking back into my room, Luca’s room, and taking a long hot shower. I began it standing, but by the end, I was sitting on the floor of the bathtub, the searing water cold against my skin, the heat entirely within me. My thoughts were scattered and sporadic; I felt scared…and excited about what all of this meant, sick and thrilled about the future.
Luca barely slept that night, but he did eventually crash. He must have only slept a few hours, a dreamless sleep that was eventually ruined by Gretchen. When I opened my eyes and saw her, any other feelings were replaced by a cold hatred.
Gretchen was a woman with long black hair, wide eyes and arched eyebrows, my stepmother in my dream. This was odd, one of the oddest aspects to me of all of this; despite everything my parents had done wrong, to me and the environment, they were always in a strong relationship, a devoted duo, they put each other on a pedestal, above me, above anything else. Their love made me believe in love, and I couldn’t believe a divorce could happen.
Gretchen was nervous, a neurotic mess, dressed in a cotton robe, hands fumbling with the cord on it. In my dream this was annoying me, causing me to roll my eyes at her, and what I viewed as attention-seeking behavior. In the light of day, I realized she looked sickened and sad, and full of sorrow, though I didn’t, or I should say, Luca, didn’t take her feelings into account, simply being pissed about being woken up.
“So…Luca…your father said you were talking to one of his old friends.”
“His old friend?” I asked.
“That’s what he said.” Gretchen answered quickly. “We…he…it was decided, if you want to, you can stay with him for the rest of…summer, at least. Maybe longer.” She looked at me, like she wanted to add something, but closed her mouth, and put on a smile, a pathetic, weak smile.
“You’re going to let me go off with that guy?” I asked.
“Your father says he knows him very well.” Gretchen said. “What your father feels, I’ll stand with.”
“What do you think?” I asked.
Gretchen hesitated for a moment. “I want you to choose what is best for you.” Gretchen answered. “I…I think you being here with Kate, and Sam, and Jenna…I think it’s good for you. I know it’s rough at times, but with patience and compromise, it will be better.”
“Yeah, well I think going with the General will be better for me.” I answered.
Gretchen nodded slowly. “I understand, I hope you’re making the right decision.”
“You’re happy to see me go, aren’t you?”
Gretchen inhaled deeply. “Not really, but…you’ve already chosen.”
I rolled my eyes. She was so phony; she would easily be the least missed thing from this whole retched, listless town. And there were tons of things I hated in this wretched place.
She loitered for a few more seconds before she left my room, though I could hear her pacing from the kitchen to the living room over and over while I began packing.
I still had some reservations about this, leaving to go and live with a stranger, or several, actually, and whatever secret there were to this world, but really, anything had to be better than living in Millwood. It was such a boring place, with useless idiots. I already hated every aspect of it. Not to mention the perks that the General was talking about.
I packed three bags, one for clothes, for Luca, this was alright, but when I woke up as Cooper, I realized the measly wardrobe he had, and way too many dark clothes. The other bags were for my magical items related to my warlock identity, charms, talismans, numerous things I’ve bought before ever meeting the General. The third bag was for my music collection, vinyl, cassettes, CDS.
The rest, the bed, the shelves, the books, the other clothes, none of that seemed to matter. Less than that, I was actively hating it, despising the room, just a shell, a prison for me. A place for my dad to keep me trapped and bored, living with his obnoxious wife and her stupid store.
It was noon when the General picked me up. He was standing at the door with a smile, one that held some secrets, ones I was ready to unlock and see. Gretchen was beside him, her eyes cast down, still wearing her robe.
“You ready, Luca?”
I nodded. “Of course.”
Gretchen stood by the side, and I could tell she wanted to cry; I don’t know what manipulative task she was trying to pull now, but I just rolled my eyes.
“Luca, if you need me-.”
“I won’t.”
I shut the door behind me, ready for whatever the future was going to hold.
Chapter Text
July 8th, 2022
I really thought driving from Oklahoma City through Texas would be fast, and that Oliver was exaggerating that it would take another day’s worth of a trip, but it took us seventeen hours to go through the state, stopping right at the New Mexico border.
We went to Fort Worth, then Dallas, which was odd, considering that I thought they were the same, or that Fort Worth was just a little sibling, not enough to really warrant a stop. Then we went to Houston, Austin, and San Antonio, before finally stopping in El Paso.
“I never want to see another Texan again.” I said as I plopped down on the couch.
“We didn’t really see much of them.” Oliver said, “Just their horrible driving and road rage.”
“Too mucho for me.” I grabbed a remote from the coffee table and flipped through, bored and restless, and upset.
Unlike the other two nights, we both had more energy and were ready to stay up and do something, not anything really active, just something. We had both taken considerable naps in the car and had already stocked up on snacks for the night and were ready to put our Nintendo Switch to use.
Oliver set up the game, and I began playing some music on our speaker, something that would energize us and get our blood pumping. I’m glad we brought the Switch instead of the X-Box; if we played one of our multiplayer shooting games, we may have angered some nearby Texan, and they’d come around to actually shoot us.
We moved into the kitchen, and I began making some food, taking a stab at making some of the Mexican food we had ate on the way, which is a lot better than the cuisine that so called Mexican restaurants in Westport served. I opened cabinets and drawers, grabbing most of things on instinct without much thought, though I stopped at seeing a bottle of wine.
“Man, I really wish your mom didn’t psychologically torture us.” I said, “This is a really good year.”
Oliver walked over to me, grabbing the bottle and inspecting it, and I smiled at his progress of inspecting and judging extravagant objects.
“You know, I was looking it up, and the legal age to drink in Texas is seventeen, with parental consent.”
“Even if the consent is coming from Connecticut?” I asked.
“I don’t know, but we’re here in this penthouse, nobody will know.” Oliver said.
“I don’t know Oliver, this has my tummy kind of hurting, I feel like mom is going to pop out of the closet.”
“Yeah, me too.” Oliver said. “I’m going to call my mom and try to reason with her.”
I looked at the bottle. “Sorry, champ, maybe in a few years.”
Saying that made me wonder what was going to happen to all of this? All of his homes and property and whatever, was I going to be responsible for all of it? Have to keep up with rent and payments and taxes? Or responsible for selling it all?
I frowned, imagining all of that work, and felt sick, but as I looked at Oliver arguing into the phone I felt happier. He wasn’t going to let it overwhelm me, he was going to be there at every step of my journey, he would show me what to do, or help me find somebody that would. I wish I could do anywhere as near as much for him.
It would probably be fine to give him the apartments, and all the properties, I didn’t really need them, and he could take them now without worrying about Mrs. Otto trying to stop him. But there was still whatever he was doing that was so odd, so different, and so worried. It had manifested itself while we were driving, but honestly, I was getting so worried about the dreams that I barely noticed how he was acting.
I’ve never had a recurring dream before. It was telling a story, centered around my uncle, but he wasn’t my uncle, not from what I could see. And there was something in the dreams, I couldn’t remember in the light of day, but something creepy, and scary, and right at the edge, wanting to step forwards.
I shook my head and looked over at Oliver, not really hearing what he was saying. I didn’t need to worry about my dreams, I needed to worry about him, and keep an eye out for what’s bothering him.
Oliver smiled as he hung up the phone. “She doesn’t care.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Well, she cared for a second, got lost on a tangent about how sissified this generation is, realized she’s mad at Taylor, then told us to quit being wimps and to just drink it, and said thanks for asking.”
“Sounds like her.” I laughed and grabbed two glasses from the counter, pouring the wine into them. “I can’t really believe we’re going to drink! I thought I would have to go to a hypnotist or a therapist to get over it.”
“I thought I was going to have to wait to get wasted at her funeral.” Oliver said.
“Cheers, to road trips.” I held up the glass to Oliver. “Oh, cheers to being alive!”
“Cheer to this almost being done.” Oliver clinked his glass against mine, and we both drank. The rich, sweet, strong taste hit my tongue, guilt-free and warming my whole body. There are numerous things I don’t think I’ll like about getting older, but drinking wouldn’t be one of them.
We cooked together, and drank together, Oliver right beside me, giving me some help, though it was mostly me putting the ingredients together, and mixing and stirring, him just standing at my side.
As we went on more and more, drinking more, Oliver started acting really…affectionate, and silly, which wasn’t that common; he usually just liked to sit on a stool or a counter and watch me and talk while I cooked or baked.
Instead, he was almost connected to my hip, hanging onto me, almost hugging my waist and giving me the occasional shake, both of us giggling. Our clothes got dirty, our smiling faces streaked with ingredients and even our hair was a little dirty.
Oliver acted like this when we used to get tipsy, just a little. We never really got too drunk before, always too nervous for Mrs. Otto to find us and to give us a punishment.
He was being a lot more handsy though, tickling me and wrestling with me, and slapping my ass on the occasion, being silly in a way I hadn’t ever seen him.
“Oh, my gosh, I love this song.” Oliver said, bouncing in rhythm to it.
“Katy Perry?” I asked.
“It brings me back, to being six and carefree!” Oliver yelled. “You know, it’s like…I thought…um…well I’d picture now, you know, being eighteen…and I guess you could call that a-I mean that I wanted to tell you that-.”
Oliver and Katy Perry both burst out singing, “You! Make! Me! Feel like I’m living a! Teenage! Dream!”
I laughed at Oliver; he was never this open. I was loving it, I couldn’t wait to see him drinking more, and acting like that, his worries and cares drifting away. Though I was a little concerned with his music taste being so stuck in the past.
He grabbed onto my hands, interlocking our fingers, and began jumping up and down, and I always liked this song, so I joined in with him. It had been years since I heard this song, or really even thought about Katy Perry, so we messed up the words a lot.
When the bridge hit, Oliver slowed down, and started doing a goofy, seductive kind of dance, hands going up and down his body. “So get your things on me in my tight skin jeans, be your teenage dream tonight. So get your hands on me-.”
Eventually he stopped, and leaned towards me, putting his hands on my shoulders. I stood still, wondering what he was going to do.
He leaned in, his mouth right on my ear, his breath warm, drifting down to my shoulder blades. I waited for him to do something, my heart racing.
“Yeaaaaaah! You! Make! Me!” Oliver shouted right in my ear, causing me to recoil away, something within me disappointed, along with my ear arching, but my amusement at his enthusiasm stronger than anything else.
After the song finished, we turned off the speaker and examined ourselves, the funny feeling I was having gone.
“Wow, we’re a mess.” I grabbed a dish rag and tried to clean my face a little.
Oliver’s hand touched my cheek, and he moved his thumb over my face, slowly and carefully. “You’re missing a spot.”
“Gracias, amigo.” I looked at our meal in the oven and sighed. It wasn’t too late, and we had a while before it would finish.
Oliver moved his hand from my face and held it up in front of his eyes.
“Uh, I think I need to take a shower.” Oliver said. “Put your clothes in the washer, I’ll do laundry after I’m out.”
I nodded, raising my hand and putting it between Oliver’s neck and shoulder; I grazed my fingers, brushing against the skin, causing him to giggle even more.
“Will do, hombre.”
I switched into a robe and put my clothes in the washing machine; Oliver and I often did each other’s laundry, but we always put our own clothes in the washer; after the clothes had been run through it was fine to grab, but not before. I went into a different bathroom and took my shower.
After our showers, Oliver and I played an hour or so of a Pokémon game, taking turns. Oliver was really off his game, giggling and sloppy, paying more attention to messing with me while I was playing, and talking to me when he was supposed to be playing. I was also doing pretty bad, we lost so many times in a row, but I was having a lot of fun playing with Oliver.
During the middle of what turned out to be our final match, we heard a knock at the door.
“Oh God, they found out we’re drinking.” Oliver giggled.
I stood up and began walking, really stumbling towards the door. “Play for me.”
“Ahh!” Oliver grabbed the controller, making us instantly die.
I smiled as I walked to the door, but being away from Oliver made me realize how odd it was that somebody was knocking on the door, this late especially. I doubted it could be the cops, but it was still a possibility.
Looking into the peephole, I saw a black haired, pale girl, hair kind of greasy and wearing a hoodie and sweats. She had a pretty face, though it was marred with sadness and anxiousness, and her outdated sweatsuit really didn’t help her looks.
The image of those teenagers in the grocery store hit my mind, the weird trio, and suddenly I wasn’t calm and serene about it anymore, and I wondered why I ever was to begin with?
I turned to look at Oliver, to tell him about it. “Arthur?” the muffled voice of the girl croaked out, and once again those teenagers slipped my mind. “Arthur, I need to get a change of clothes, do you mind?”
“Who is that?” I heard Oliver ask; his voice sobered a bit.
I shrugged. “She knows my great-uncle though.”
“This seems like a bad idea.” Oliver got up and walked towards me.
The hall was long and narrow, with nowhere for anybody to hide; I put the chain on the wall and unlocked the door.
“Hello?” The girl’s face changed to shock as I opened the door.
“Oh…oh, I’m sorry.” The girl said. “Is Arthur here?”
“He’s dead.” Oliver said, so abruptly that I had to hold back my lips to keep from smiling.
“Oh, my goodness.” The girl said, her hand on her heart. “I’m sorry. I can’t believe it, really, he was fine just, like, last week. He said he was going to stay here until the end of the month.”
“Well, he’s not going to keep that promise.” Oliver said, then began laughing wildly. “Sorry, I’m a bit wasted.”
“I can tell.” The girl quietly replied. “I’m really, really sorry, I’m sorry for your loss.”
“I only met him once.” I held out my hand to her. “Cooper Bradford, his great-nephew. This is Oliver Otto, my best amigo.”
Oliver held up a hand and grinned, causing the girl to nod.
“How did you know him?”
“Oh well, he…he was a friend of mine.” The girl shook her head. “Okay, that’s not true, he was my sugar, I was his sug…I really just…can’t say the word out loud, but I think you got the idea. I’m Lisa.”
“Oh, alright, no judgement.” I said, “Well, not much.”
“Uh, yeah, I’m sorry, I guess I should go.” Lisa said, beginning to turn away.
I looked at Oliver, my eyes pleading; he rolled his and shrugged.
“You can come get your clothes, if you need to.” I said, and Lisa stopped.
“Oh, thank you so much.” Lisa began walking towards us. “I swear, I’ll be gone right after I change my clothes, you know I just have to wash this mess out of my hair. An hour tops!”
I moved out of her way, and she jogged towards the hall, flashing us a smile.
Oliver turned and looked at me. “Did one of us say she could shower?”
I shook my head. “I’m not going to tell her to stop.”
I closed the door, and we changed the television to a generic sitcom, something that wouldn’t reveal our interests to her, I don’t know why, but in our drunken minds, we were afraid to show anything we had a genuine interest in, embarrassed in feeling our interests.
“Well, didn’t know Uncle Arthur was a player.” Oliver giggled. “Or at least a lonely old man.”
I laughed. “Yeah, hope he wasn’t illegally dirty.”
“She looks at least seventeen.” Oliver said. “That’s the age of consent here.”
“Ew. Did you look everything up about this state?” I laughed.
“I’m a researcher.” Oliver said. “I love looking things up, my dad’s penchant for useless facts have rubbed off on me, it’s a hidden shame.”
I laughed. “Well, I hope she’s not here for long, and isn’t a part of a sting operation.”
The memory of those teenagers in the store hit me, and I rapidly retold it to Oliver.
“Oh well, you know how Oklahoma people act. Oklahomians? Oklahomites? Eh, who cares.” Oliver giggled.
“Oliver, I know you’re really drunk, but I don’t think you’re understanding.”
“No, I don’t think you understand.” Oliver laughed, and brought his hand to my face. He rubbed my cheek with his thumb, and he smiled at me.
“Do I have something there?”
Oliver shook his head. “Nope.”
I furrowed my eyebrows, but before I could respond, Lisa was back.
Her hair was still damp, only slightly though, and she had changed into a red sundress and matching shoes. She wore a bag that I hadn’t noticed when she first came in and had her face covered in makeup. In addition to the change of clothes, she now had a chipper attitude.
I noticed how pretty she was as she walked to us, she could probably be on a television show, probably not a leading role, though.
I considered trying to put on the El Cooper charm, but like I have been for a while, decided against it. I really wasn’t ready to date, not only was I not ready to put myself out there, but I also just really didn’t feel like I could squeeze a girlfriend into my schedule; me and Oliver already had so much going on.
“Thank y’all so much for letting me shower, I know this must be weird for y’all.”
“Yeah, you were only in there for like five minutes.” Oliver said.
“Oh, I’m very fast, like lightning.” Lisa snapped to emphasize her point. “Y’all don’t seem to be from Texas, am I right?”
We shook our heads. “No, Connecticut, Westport.”
“Never heard of it, but who am I to judge, I have an aunt and uncle that live in a place called Bigfoot.” Lisa laughed and I joined in, I really liked her drawl, I doubt she even noticed it.
“Cool. Hey, do you want to stay for a while, I just made some Mexican food, I’d love to hear what a Texas girl thinks of it.”
“Oh, yeah, I would love to give you a little bit of critique.” Lisa said. “If it’s okay with both of y’all, I can stay for about twenty minutes.”
“Sure.” I said, “I’d love to hear how you knew my uncle.”
“Oh, that’s a bit of a story.” Lisa said. “Olly boy, you’re okay with me staying, aren’t you?”
I looked over at Oliver and saw him frowning, almost glaring at her.
“Yeah, it’s cool with me.” Oliver said, and I hoped she couldn’t tell he was lying.
“Oh good, because you look a bit ornery. I don’t know how y’all Connecticut yanks act, but I’ll try and show you some southern hospitality.”
Chapter Text
Forty-five minutes later I was saying goodbye to Lisa, while Oliver sat on the couch, glaring at the television. A Friends two-part episode had started after we took the food out of the oven, and she insisted on staying through it after finishing her food, which she really enjoyed.
“I can’t tell y’all again, just how grateful I am for y’all letting me shower, and then feeding me.” Lisa said. “I want y’all to take care, blow your Uncle Arthur a goodbye kiss for me.”
“I’ll try to stomach it.” I said, “Thanks, take care.”
“You too.” Lisa said. “Bye Oliver!”
Oliver held up two fingers, being incredibly rude to her, not that Lisa seemed to notice, just flashing me another smile before turning around.
I closed the door, and quickly turned to Oliver.
“Dude, what the hell? Why are you being so mean?”
“I guess, I’m just a jerk, aren’t I?” Oliver crossed his arms. “That’s what everybody says, mom, dad…Alice, Taylor, Anna-Kat…Alice…Gina…Brie.”
“Woah, I think you’ve been drinking too much.” I walked up to him and sat beside him on the couch. “You were rude, I’ve seen you be much better at parties before, you’re a charmer.”
“I’m also a damn moron.”
I laughed, but then realized that Oliver was frowning even deeper. “Tu es bueno amigo?”
Oliver shook his head and avoided eye contact. “I don’t why the hell we drunk, drank…I’m such an idiot, I’m a [bleep]ing loser.”
I could see pain on his face, anger and sadness and other emotions my drunkish brain couldn’t comprehend.
“Amigo, you’re going to Harvard, you’re amazing, you’re cool, you’re funny, where is all of this coming from?”
Oliver shook his head. “I’m just drunk, and a damn, pathetic, piece of poor trash, I wish we never went to Westport.”
I felt my heart stop in my chest. “Oliver, calm down, it’s okay buddy.” I went over to put my hand on his shoulder, but he pushed it off.
“I’m going to bed.” Oliver got up, and began storming off, me behind him. He stopped in his tracks and turned to me, holding his hands up. “Cooper, I’m okay, I promise. I’ll puke tonight, and I’ll be better in the morning. Don’t follow me.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to talk or anything?” I asked.
Oliver nodded. “Pretty damn positive.”
I was left alone, wondering what the hell was going on with him, deciding I was going to go in and make sure he was okay when he laid down. I was left alone with my thoughts and Friends playing in the background. My drunken inward ramblings didn’t go anywhere, and I couldn’t think of a single thing that would help Oliver, or why Oliver was acting like that at all.
A knock on the door brought me out of my thoughts and I moved towards it. I saw Lisa back, smiling guiltily.
After opening it she ran in. “Oh my gosh, I am so sorry, I just plain forgot my bag again, since he’s dead I probably won’t have another chance to get it.”
She grabbed it off the table and started going back.
“Hey, if I’m ever back in Texas we should meet up.” I offered.
“Oh, Cooper, thanks, but I’m into older men.”
“Oh no that’s not what I-.”
“Besides, I don’t want Oliver to be that upset.”
“Listen, I’m sorry about him, I don’t know what his problem was.”
“Well of course I do, he was jealous.”
“Oh, no, I don’t think so, I’m sorry, but I don’t think you’re his type.”
“Not me buddy, that boy is in love with you.”
“Oh no.” I laughed. “We’re not gay.”
Lisa cocked an eyebrow. “Honey, it’s a spectrum, y’all could be bi or pan, or flexible, but listen, that boy wants you, bad. He is head over heels. I know, trust me.” She looked at her phone. “My ride’s a bit angry, so I’ve got to go, I hope y’all work this out, y’all are real cute together. See y’all!”
She left quickly, closing the door behind her, just offering me one more smile.
I still laughed, thinking about the idea that Oliver was in love with me, but the longer the idea sat in my mind, it got less funny.
His oddness, his panic, his anxiety. That couldn’t be it, Oliver could not be in love with me.
Chapter Text
July 9th, 2022
By the morning, after tossing and turning and getting a total of zero minutes of sleep, I was convinced that yeah, Oliver was in love with me.
I had seen Oliver in love, multiple times; Alice, Gina, Brie; not so much with Lindsey and Audra. I thought I knew his signs and hints of being in love, everything he would do when he was.
With Alice it was easy for him, he had been crushing on her for two years, but Oliver always seemed pretty confident in getting her, at least to me, and I knew she was very flattered with him, infatuated with him until she cheated on him.
After getting over his nervousness, it was easy with Gina too, he was open and upfront, even about to throw me away for her, something that still bothered me. He was devoted and committed and affectionate with her, up until she left him for a dancing opportunity.
Brie, so easy, she wanted him a lot, and he was very open to it as well, there wasn’t any big nervousness or fear behind it. He was open to her, honest, and loyal, up until she dumped him because of something I did.
I was used to seeing Oliver throw himself into the relationship, and commit wholly, which always resulted in heartbreak for him, but he was still open and clear about his hope and expectations. Not at all way the way he was acting with me.
But Oliver met those girls and was instantly smitten with them, and there wasn’t really any reason not to be, any reason to keep it a secret. He wasn’t their best friend, he wasn’t their roommate, he wasn’t somebody who they had shared every single thing with before.
This was…well, it was pretty big, and I had too many thoughts, I couldn’t keep straight in any capacity.
I checked on Oliver throughout the night checking every fifteen minutes, watching him sleep. I wanted to wake him up and talk about this, but also never wanted to broach this subject either. I also needed to make sure he was…well, I didn’t like the tone he said his last words to me.
When he got up in the morning and we dressed, I was still reeling from my realization and couldn’t stomach sitting next to Oliver, knowing his secret, and unable to talk about it; I felt so overwhelmed. I told Oliver I was feeling sick, and hungover and was just going to lie in the back, which he agreed to.
I couldn’t believe that he would just develop these feelings for me, after eight years of knowing each other, six years of being best friends, two of living together. I didn’t even know he was not straight. Gay? Bi? Pan? Queer? I didn’t know.
I know he must have been going through so much pain, and angst, and that if the shoes were switched, he would be doing his best to comfort me and make me feel better. And here I was, ignoring him, probably confirming his worst fears, but with something this important I couldn’t go into it full Cooper, I had to watch my mouth.
I went back to the beginning, and went from fifth grade to sixth, and so on, trying to analyze each interaction, find a hint, a glimpse of when I could have helped him in coming out, in being his true self.
He had the perfect opportunity when Will, a gay football player made a fake Instagram account acting like Oliver and came out. Of course, they say it’s their own journey and own timeline, so maybe that would have been wrong for him then, but he was pretty adamant with me and the rest of his family.
I know his family would be accepting, even encouraging, his mom has stated that she wants him to be gay, I think, even to marry me, which he clearly didn’t want when it was mentioned. Multiple people had brought it up, mentioning it towards us, family, friends, classmates, strangers; everybody kind of liked us together, and he had always denied it. I had too.
This had to be new, just having begun on this trip; that’s when his oddness kind of started. It was only just now, and I don’t know why, I’m just adorable and cute as ever, I hadn’t acted any more charming or any different, I don’t know what in all of these years, finally convinced him that I was lovable.
It had to happen in New York, something clicked for him, I remember his face falling, but like I said, I was the exact same as I always am, nothing should have changed for him, even if he did like boys, or men; liking boys sounds weird now that we’re eighteen.
I hated that I felt uncomfortable, I feel like one of those jack asses that won’t sell cakes or say they’re going to be inappropriate with kids. But it’s such a change in our relationship, and I don’t know what to say to him, and I didn’t want to pressure it, especially when there wasn’t anywhere for him to go.
Of course I want him to know it’s all fine, and it’s all okay, that we’re still best friends, no matter what. Nothing would change between us, and it would be fine. Of course, I don’t know if that’s true. For me, it would be, easily, but Oliver wasn’t an optimistic kind of guy, he was probably driving himself crazy with guilt and panic, kind of like I was, and I was the easygoing one.
I could picture Oliver thinking horrible of himself, in addition to his confusion; he was probably afraid of me pushing him away, thinking the worst, most horrible things about himself. He treated himself like that about almost everything miniscule and tiny in life, and this was pretty grande.
I needed to find a way to let him know that everything was fine, and all right, and a way to let himself come out on his own terms. I hear that’s a very important thing to happen.
I wondered why he would want me; I mean, he’s both cute and hot at the same time, he could get any guy he wanted to. Will Hansen, Kurt Brockwell, Andrew VandeVorde were all good-looking guys, and Oliver could definitely land any of them, and there are tons of good-looking gay guys in the world, all that would be lucky to have Oliver.
He’s so ambitious; anything that he wants, he’ll get, no matter what. And so persistent, he never quits, no matter how much the world has told him to give up and accept mediocracy, he never did; girls dumping him, his mentor dying, spraining his foot, his app eventually failing; none of those things stopped him. His looks are obvious enough if you look at him, with his warm brown eyes, soft hair, subtle freckles sprinkled across his face. His humor and brains don’t need to be repeated, but should be because of how great they were.
Any guy, or girl if he still wants them, is going to be so lucky to end up with him. I had already pictured the perfect girl for him, so many times; sweet, morally righteous to not let him go crazy, willing to work so he didn’t have the pressure too much, wavy hair; she either needs the desire to be financially secure, or been born into wealth, but not snobby and elitist. No active in-laws, they would cause too much drama with his parents and sisters.
I’ve spent lots of time, hours I think, thinking about who Oliver should date, it’s important to know I’m going to trust him in the right hands when I pass him on.
With a man I guess some things would have to be different. Looks, I don’t know, comparing men and women is different, and with a man, Oliver would easily blow any of them out of the water, so it’s hard to think that there is any good enough for him.
Oliver wouldn’t necessarily want to be with someone rich, it would be a big bonus, but it was almost too easy for him, he loved a challenge, and he would be too bored if he didn’t have the obstacle of being rich. I think Oliver would rather die of a heart attack in an office than actually spend a day of retirement. But he needed somebody who had enough money so he didn’t feel like he had to work, somebody who could take car of him if something went wrong.
Oliver would need someone that has high taste and high class, that could fit into the environment he wanted to cultivate, that would be a good partner. Maybe in the same field, maybe not, but it would definitely need to be something impressive.
I tried to think of a personality for him, and found it wasn’t too dissimilar to what I thought of him with a girl. He needed someone less ambitious, less serious, someone that would keep grounded, and moral, and keep his inevitable heart attack as delayed as possible.
I thought of nearly every single male we had ever came across; sure, that wasn’t a ton, and there were billions out there for him, but I couldn’t imagine it. Every single man we’ve ever met just wouldn’t fit; neither would any woman, but it was a lot easier to conjure up a woman to pair Oliver with. Trying to think of a man, only one kept coming back at his side.
It would be easiest for me to simply slide in, right at his side and be his partner. I fit easily the best, I would watch for him, I would support him, and I do think I look pretty good on his arm if I do say so myself. I fit all the criteria I set, if only I was in love with him.
And I wished I was in love with him, I mean, he has so much that’s great about him. His humor, so dry, so cold, so quick-witted. His ambition and his drive. The sweetness at his center that doesn’t let most people see, but that he shares with me pretty often. Not to mention he can blend being cute and being hot together so naturally.
But I wasn’t in love with him, I would have to find somebody for him that was as close to me as possible.
Sometime in our drive, I grabbed my phone out and looked through Instagram, trying to find cute boys for Oliver. I would find one, close my eyes and picture them with Oliver, but be met with the same problems. Every time I thought of Oliver and that guy, I felt a pit in my stomach. I didn’t like imagining Oliver with another guy; I didn’t like thinking of another guy taking my place, watching our shows, playing our games, building the apartment that we were supposed to have together, our life together.
I didn’t feel that way with girls, imaginary or real ones, but picturing Oliver with a guy makes me realize how good I would fit in that spot, on the couch with him watching tv, cooking breakfast for him, lying in bed with him, entangled.
That thought really hit me hard, and I really began considering that I was in love with Oliver.
By the time we were in California, it really set into me that I was in love with Oliver too, and that caused a whole other fleet of panicked thoughts and feelings.
My thoughts weren’t that linear, scrambled all over the place, so it’s hard to remember exactly how it became clear. I kept cycling through, going back and forth, and repeating over and over. When we got to Phoenix, I was still freaking out, just dealing with it, only able to get myself out to grab the cube and come right back, still feigning sick and tiredness.
Before we got to San Diego, I had already began getting the inkling that I was in love with him, and by Los Angeles, I had accepted it completely. I then took a nap, one that was thankfully dreamless. No Luca, magic, or Uncle Arthur to be seen.
Now, just because I realized I was in love, that didn’t mean I grabbed his face and locked our lips and tested how much we could trust the car to drive itself when I woke up. I still needed to think of everything, how our relationship with each other was going to change, and to see if it was really the right choice. Changing from friends to more was going to be something that really needed heavy thinking, along with what this meant for me. Though I did move to the front seat and start talking to him, not a lot, just enough to ease his suspicions I thought.
People had been calling me or assuming that I was gay for years, especially when Oliver and I became friends. I get it, I’ve heard my voice, I know I’ve got good fashion sense, and all my interests lack much masculinity, but I hadn’t really ever felt gay.
I noticed guys were good-looking, but I’m pretty sure every guy can really tell, but are afraid to say. It never bothered me, that everybody thought I was gay, I didn’t really think it was an insult to begin with; Westport had caught onto acceptance pretty quickly, from my experience.
Then again, I’ve never really cared much about romance until sixth grade, I didn’t want to date anybody until then at all, and I had been pretty happy in my relationships that I had. Besides that, all of the guys in school were either Oliver, who I was realizing I was probably in love with for a long time, or guys who I had ditched for Oliver.
I thought of my girlfriends I had, and I realized I still did have feelings, feelings I don’t think I had faked any of them, although I don’t really know for sure, I guess. I barely even felt like I was over Charlotte honestly, so I don’t understand how I could fake it.
Thinking of any other guy was pretty impossible, they just kept morphing into Oliver, looking like him and acting like him, and that was something I could live with.
I played the events of this trip, of our whole relationship together, trying to decide if I was really in love with Oliver or not. I thought of the sensation I felt when he walked into my house, the excitement and happiness I felt, how I looked forward to our game nights, our movies nights. How bothered I was when he started talking to Lindsey, annoyed when he spent time texting her, and how happier I felt when Audra decided to quit talking to him.
I thought to the night before, when he got right to my ear. I realized I thought that he was going to kiss me, and I wanted it. I didn’t realize that I wanted it then, but I did.
I didn’t know all of the logistics of it or how it would work out realistically, but I was ready to give it a shot. I could have Oliver as my best friend and my soulmate, and I couldn’t see what could be better. I decided that I was going to start putting my moves on him when we woke up in the morning, after we got to my great uncle’s California mansion.
Chapter Text
Oliver’s direction had us ditch the cluttered, busy interstate and replace it with an empty, and lightless dirt road, one taking us through a forest. We were almost there, close to my inheritance, to Oliver and I getting together, to what the future could be.
Darkness surrounded the road; the sky above was without any moonlight. Only twinkling stars, so small, and so far, away, as well as the headlights, were the lights out that night.
Outside it was hot and humid, befitting the season of summer; inside it was cool and comfortable, soft leather seats with warmers, bottles of sparkling water filled the cupholders, the smell of two boys long on the road filled the car.
We were quiet, our conversation stalled long ago, though I felt a surge of excitement coursing through my veins, excited to begin making my move on Oliver. All of the good, great things we already had, all platonic, perfectly merging with our romantic sides. After we slept, of course, being on the road sucks so much, and I was exactly an expert seducer with this much duress.
The city had disappeared long ago, trees and bushes replacing buildings, dirt and gravel replacing pavement; black night sky had been above us, stars and the moon shining on us, isolation and silence outside the window. I’m not exactly sure where we were, we had gone to every major city, and were now to arrive at his forest mansion, which I didn’t know that California had unoccupied forests.
Eventually the path abruptly stopped, a large gate appearing between two pillars, two grotesques standing above the pillars, looking down on us. One pillar had a speaker on it, with two buttons underneath.
Oliver rolled the windows down, and weakly reached for the button, which was more than six feet out of his reach. When he realized that didn’t work, he motioned for me to get out.
“I’m tired.” I whined. “Can you, do it? Please?”
“I’ve been driving, why should I?” Oliver asked.
“I’ll make it up for you.” I said, thinking of taking him to a suite in Paris, travelling by private jet, just the two of us alone. The thought sent a flutter of excitement through me, enough to go and press the button, but I still wanted to see Oliver annoyed through my new lens.
Oliver glared at me, and I could a bit of rage beginning to form, and realized just how cute he was. I smiled innocently at him, and his face turned red with a blush.
The argument wasn’t resolved, as a voice came out of the speaker and quickly solved it for us.
“Cooper Bradford and Oliver Otto?” a bored, nasal voice asked.
I decided to give my first hint of flirtation, and leaned over Oliver, sticking my head through the window, making sure to put my hand on his shoulder, moving my fingers so slightly to his collarbone. I smelled Oliver’s cologne, like pine trees; I felt very happy with the smell, and hoped Oliver was as enticed with my scent.
“Yes, Cooper Bradford here.” I cheerily said.
The voice asked me for some personal information, and after giving it to him, he opened the gate. The road became perfectly smooth, almost frictionless pavement as we drove towards the mansion. Various gardens and statues filled the yards, all the plants blooming and flourishing, even in the dark. There were flowers and fruits and vegetables, and seemingly everything else you could imagine growing there. Groves were beyond the garden, and spread throughout, seemingly to wherever the gates ended.
The gardens thinned out eventually, revealing a row of cars all parked in front of my great-uncle’s mansion. I did not use the term mansion lightly, but this was a true mansion, six floors tall, plus an attic and basement, and at least three times as wide. It was so complex, and so large, that Oliver I were left with our mouths agape.
“Holy [bleep].” We both said.
There were about six other cars parked there in the parking lot, not even Juniper Hill had its own actual parking lot. I really would have thought it would be an eyesore, but they made it blend with the style.
The lights of the mansion were off, except for a few soft blue lights on the porch, where a group of men and women in servant uniforms were standing, hands behind back, staring at us. They were mostly white, and a middle-aged woman was in front, standing ahead of the others as a leader, and the only one smiling as we parked the car.
I reached to open the car door, but the woman in the front raised a finger, a friendly move, but one that let me know to pause. She pointed the finger down and I rolled the window to hear her.
“Oh, I recognize those Cushing good-looks.” The woman laughed, her voice raspy, like she didn’t go a half hour without a cigarette. “Before I can let you in, I need to see the briefcase.”
I nodded. “Oh, it’s in the back.”
“Perfect!” she squealed, clapping her hands. “Let me just go back and count them, honey.”
The woman scuttled to the back of the car, and I could smell soap and powder coming off her as she passed, not anything like the ash I expected to smell. Oliver and I made faces at each other, both a bit bothered as we heard the briefcase unlatch, and her whispering under breath, counting.
“Oh, goody, you boys listen!” the woman cheerfully announced, shutting the backdoor. “I’ll take this for Ms. Mendez, you two are now more than welcome here.”
As soon as we were out, the servants swarmed onto the car and began taking out our luggage, wordlessly carrying them into the mansion, leaving Oliver and I with the woman.
“Good evening, Mr. Bradford, Mr. Otto, we have been waiting for your arrival.” The woman smiled a genuine smile at us and had a warmth on her but kept her hands at her sides. “I am Marian, the head of the house, here.”
“Hi.” I smiled at her, trying to remember every detail of her, the first person I’ve met since I fell in love with Oliver. “I’m Cooper Bradford.”
“Yes, it is nice to meet you two.” Marian raised her eyebrows. She had a tall frame, a build that seemed pretty solid, but with a dress that went to her ankles, and puffy sleeves up to her wrist, I couldn’t tell for sure. She had pudgy cheeks, with a rosy blush to them; she wore rose-colored lipstick, and a soft, periwinkle eyeshadow, but that was it for her. She had a deep chestnut hair color pulled back in a tight bun, with gray at the root just starting to show.
“Oh, you did very good, Mr. Bradford. I really wish to give you a warmer welcoming, but I have to ask you to be quiet before you’re in your rooms, your relatives are sleeping.”
“What relatives?” I asked as we began walking.
“Oh, honey, I guess you’re not very good at directions, are you?” Marian laughed. “There’s only three others, you’ll see them in the morning, but I don’t think you know any of them; they seemed unfamiliar with you when I mentioned you, they all wanted to know what other relatives were coming, how many apartments they had to visit, those kinds of things.”
“Are there any other coming?” I asked.
“Nope, you were the last one.”
“Way to be consistent with your tardiness, dude.” Oliver said.
We walked across the pavement from the parking lot to the mansion, the ground feeling odd, so hard and rough, and solid, compared to keeping my feet perked up the whole time in the car. We reached the door, large and metal, with enough carvings and character to keep it from looking boring and lifeless, some letters and numbers sculpted into the door. Marian turned to us, holding a finger up to her lips as she walked in.
The mansion was grand and excellent, expertly designed, everything looking so…expensive and luxurious, probably combining all the Otto’s college funds in just the living room furniture. A fireplace that could be called an inferno; racks full of firewood beside it, enough to suspect they cut down a Sequoyah for it. A couch that stretched on, and on, almost throughout the whole room, at least fifty feet long. A television hung against every wall, and looking at the floor, I could recognize it would also turn into a screen. I looked up, and saw that the ceiling too, was a screen.
The staircase spiraled in parts, went straight in others, truly being just used to be a spectacle of showing the living room. My legs were sore and tired by the time we finally reached the landing. We were led to a hallway, the walls draped with Van Goughs and Da Vincis, sculptures of mythological creatures situated every few feet, looking as if they were created of solid gold. A subtle knock when Marian was ahead confirmed it was gold. We stopped at two doors, where our suitcases were put.
“We’ll let you sort your suitcases and sleeping arrangements. These two rooms are available, and they have a Jack and Jill bathroom for you two. Your relatives are nearby, so please don’t be too noisy. At least not until you introduce yourselves in the morning.” Marian whispered. “Is there anything I could get you, milk, tea, water, a nice snack?”
We both shook our heads. Marian smiled and nodded. “That’s alright, please meet me at the eastern breakfast room in the morning. There’s a map engraved on your doors, just so you’ll know. Have a nice night boys.”
We nodded and smiled at her; Marian walking away as we began taking our suitcases and putting them in our rooms. Our rooms were large, with a connecting bathroom between and doors that opened up to a balcony, only shared between us; the beds, televisions, dressers, and other furniture were perfect mirrors of one another, facing each other.
Once done with shoving my luggage in my room, I went through the bathroom to Oliver’s room; he was putting his clothes up, nice and neat, and perfectly orderly, and I smiled at it.
“We made it!” I cheered. “I never thought it was going to be done.”
Oliver smiled and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, just one night’s sleep and we’ll be set to go right back on the road, hopefully a few billion dollars richer.”
I chuckled then just stared at Oliver as he kept unpacking. I felt a wave of nervousness, and excitement that I had never felt with him before, or that I hadn’t realized I had those feelings; it was so different, and I wanted him, wanted to be with him so badly.
He looked up at me, and he looked down quickly, I could see a blush spread across his cheeks, and once again, the realization that he was really crushing on me made me feel scared and exhilarated.
“Oliver, you know I really appreciate you coming, and driving, I don’t really think I can tell you that enough.”
Oliver didn’t look up. “I know, and it was almost fun, I think anybody would have done the same to help you.”
“Maybe, but I’m really glad it was you that came.”
Oliver smiled, then I saw him bite down his lip and his eyebrows furrow in a sad, frightened looking way that he quickly knocked off his face. I wanted to tell him that it would be alright, and that I want him, but I was still too afraid to fully put it out there, I needed to bridge the gap first.
“Buenas noches, dude.” I said, turning to walk into my room.
Chapter Text
As I slept in the huge, luxurious, soft bed, I had my first dream in the mansion.
Unlike the other dreams, which followed a sequence, even if it did leave out gaps of information, this one skipped far ahead.
The sky above was gray, every inch covered in clouds that were darkening each moment, threatening to begin dropping rain at any moment.
It already smelled like rain, and nature. The General and I were deep in a forest, trees of various shades, heights, and widths surrounding the two of us; the grass was damp and mushy beneath our feet, and I could feel it slipping through my sneakers to my socks. The temperature was dropping lower, a wind in the air blowing hard.
I could feel different, much different than the Luca that had left his home. I felt wiser, more knowledgeable in things, magic in particular. I felt bigger under my clothes, lean, but muscular, and was taller too. I was also nervous as all hell.
I was trying to ignore it, recalling my teachings. I remember two men, old, gray and white, their words, and their lessons repeating in my head. I tried to hold onto all of them, repeating them as a mantra.
“It’s really a simple defeat boy.” The General said.
“I know.” I replied. And it was. A memory of clothes being flipped inside out, shoes on the wrong feet. It was silly, stupid, it should not be able to defeat the creature, not of this strength, not of this standard. Of course, this creature should by all accounts be doing more, should have more than its doing in its life.
“They’ll be here, right?” I asked.
“Of course, they’re right in the metaphorical rafters, waiting for the signal. All you have to do is lure it.”
A clap erupted through the forest, followed by a deep laugh.
“It seems like it’s already here.”
“Of course it is.” The General said. “But right now it’ll only want to mess with one of us. Nothing as serious to get it crawling to you yet.”
I nodded, feeling sick to my stomach. We had been doing things all morning, messing with it, doing things that will anger it, and incur its wrath. It has been working, things have gone missing, we’ve heard its laughing, singing, and clapping, and recently it has made us go an hour out of our way.
The ground got higher and higher, and I knew our destination was close. My stomach turned as we reached it. It had been months since I had left Gretchen’s home, and I had already come to terms with several things I never thought I would, but I still felt bad about this.
The General wasn’t feeling bad. He was smiling brightly, cheerfully as he led the way. This was a major step to him, one that filled him with excitement, and hope. I was afraid of him on these positive emotions.
We reached the top of a hill, one that overlooked a plain field of grass, full of them, our targets. “Here it is, boy.” The General laughed.
“You’re going to leave?” It wasn’t a question; it was a plead. I didn’t want him to go.
“Of course, son.” He cheered, slapping me against the back. “Give it fifteen minutes, then do your stuff. Don’t worry, we’ve practiced it, it’ll work.”
I nodded. I wanted to argue, to beg him to stay, to take me back, but I knew that was wrong, and that wouldn’t happen no matter what I tried.
He shot me a wink then began walking away. I sighed, and looked at my watch, which was missing.
“Great.” I looked down at the field below, and looked at the dozen sheep below, grazing in their field.
I had started with fleas, those were easy, simple, and not particularly cute creatures. It didn’t matter, it was perfectly fine.
Ants were similarly easy. Cockroaches and rats were especially pleasing, watching it happen. Cats and dogs were harder, both to control and to watch.
Looking at those sheep, I felt a twinge of sickness, and guilt. Yes, the General’s company had bred them for this, but they were still normal, innocent sheep. I didn’t really want to hurt them, I wanted to hurt people, and only psychologically.
And this was even without bringing up the creature, it could grow, it could shrink, it could change in any way, any shape, or any form it wanted to. I didn’t exactly understand how the spell would protect me, much less capture it.
I counted back nine-hundred seconds. I dreaded it, but it was necessary.
I slipped a stick from my pocket, wooden and crafted. I inhaled, then began flicking it.
The sheep stopped grazing, stopped drinking or eating, or doing anything beside standing completely still. They weren’t choosing this, they were forced to be still, by my doing.
I inhaled again, raising the wand slowly. This caused the sheep to bleat, painful, scared bleats, each and every one of them.
I cringed looking at the baby of the field, trying its hardest to fight against my restraints, and the blood rising through its vessels.
It was the hardest spell I had by this point, boiling their blood within their vessels, really all the liquid within them. They were deflating before me, some of them melting off into the grass, the vapors of them wafting through the air.
I heard the footsteps running towards me as the last of the sheep turned into a sack of flesh and bones.
Chapter Text
July 10th, 2022
I waited in my room for Oliver, dressed and full of plans in my head to help break down mine and Oliver’s barriers, and let us transition smoothly into being together. My plans were always bad though, so the biggest idea I had was flirtation.
I just knew that by the end of the trip we would be driving back to Westport, together, him resting his head on my shoulder as we rode across the country. I wanted to spoil him, and to treat him the way he deserved, the way I would have from the day I met him. Mrs. Otto, God bless her, wasn’t going to get in my way of giving him the treatment he deserved this time.
I looked at my phone; once again no bars in the corner, nothing to do there. I had restarted it over and over, turned on airplane mode, checked if I had my cellular data on. Nothing, I was going to have to ask about that when I saw Marian. I needed my phone, thinking of Oliver too much couldn’t be that healthy, and I just plain wanted my phone.
Oliver knocked on the bathroom door, and I felt like a cocoon with a billion butterflies burst within my stomach, and a smile spread over my face. I tried to remain calm so the sweat wouldn’t go through my clothes and I posed in what I thought would look good to him.
“Come in.” I said and moved towards the door, trying to keep the smile on my face smaller.
The door opened and Oliver was dressed in a professional button-up shirt and dress pants, his usual kind of wear, more impressive than the T-shirts and jeans we had been wearing in the car. He had a nervous look on his face he was trying to cover with boredom; if he was nervous about me, or meeting my rich relatives, I wasn’t sure.
“Ready?” I asked.
Oliver nodded, forcing a smile.
I put a hand on his shoulder, then decided to swing my whole arm over it and walked him towards my door. I wanted to walk him like this the entire way to the dining room, but those few inches that he had over me made it awkward, so I squeezed his shoulder and let my hand fall. I was happy with the rosiness covering his cheeks though.
Oliver had taken a photo of the mansion’s map on his phone, and was guiding me towards the eastern breakfast room.
“It’s weird, there’s a couple of restricted places, actually a lot of them.” Oliver said. “That we can’t go too. They’re just marked off, according to this map. What do you think for?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe he has something illegal. Ooh, maybe this is a sting operation and they’re trying to implicit us in his crimes.”
“Who’s this they?” Oliver asked.
“I don’t know, the CIA? The IRS?” I shrugged. “We’ll just ask Marian what’s up with the rooms when we see her.”
We made it to the eastern breakfast room; it had a large wall made of glass, letting in the morning sunlight. There was a wooden floor, and several potted plants all around the room, mostly tropical looking. A large round table that could fit over twenty sat in the middle of the room, as well as multiple square tables at the side, a resemblance to a restaurant more than a home. Members of the house staff were waiting, backs to the walls, hands behind their backs. At one of the square tables to the side was a girl, a couple of years older than Oliver and me.
She had a bowl of fruit in front of her that she stabbed with her fork as she read an old-looking book in her left hand. She wore a black tank top that was cut at the midriff, black leggings, and a loose hoodie hanging off her shoulders. She had long brown hair in a ponytail, white crocs, and smelled a bit like honey.
“Should we introduce ourselves?” I asked Oliver.
“No, we should cover our faces and hope she doesn’t spot us.”
I rolled my eyes and walked up over to the girl.
“Hola, how’s it going? Cooper Bradford, this is my friend, Oliver Otto.”
“Hey.” Oliver said, covering his unsocial attitude well.
“Oh, wow, young blood, here, take a seat.” The girl motioned across from us, sitting the book down on the table. “I’m Vicki. Well, Victoria Kingston, if we’re doing last names.”
After both of us sat down, Vicki asked. “So, which one of, you are related to me? Both?”
“I am.” I answered. “My mom’s mom was his sister; Oliver is just my best amigo. You?”
“He was my grandpa.” Vicki answered. “His daughter; my mom, same gal.”
“Oh, sorry, this must be more personal for you then.” I answered.
Vicki nodded. “Yeah, but not that sad, I mean he sucked.”
“This is the kind of touching family moments you only read about.” Oliver said.
Vicki laughed. “Well, he did, he was a prudish, conservative, bible-thumping ass moron. Always talking about whores and sluts, including me.”
“Oh, sorry.” I said uncomfortably.
“Oh, don’t be, I kind of am, at least professionally.” Vicki said. “Nearly blew a blood vessel when he found that out.”
“You mean you…” Oliver began.
“I do porn, should clarify that, not prostitution. I stay in the legal zone, just to clarify”
I nodded. “Oh, okay.” I tried to think of something to say, something not judgmental. “I’m a bit familiar with that genre.”
Vicki nodded. “Nice to know.” Oliver and I looked at each other, trying to think of what to say. “It’s okay, sorry I kind of introduced that pretty early into the conversation, but some of the other people accused me of lying to them when I admitted it later on.”
“Oh, sorry if we seem judgmental.” Oliver said. “We don’t know many sex-workers where we’re from.”
“We do know some promiscuous people.” I said, “This one woman, she’s a lawyer-.”
“Not something she needs to know.” Oliver said.
“Where are you from?” Vicki asked. When we answered she expressed a bit of surprise. “I didn’t really think people came from Connecticut, it’s kind of like Wyoming in my mind.”
“Really?” Oliver asked. “Connecticut doesn’t rank high on your list of states?”
Vicki laughed, and I felt a bit jealous from that laugh, a little too hard.
“Where did you grow up?” I asked.
“Here, then in Seattle when my parents divorced, and I went to live with my dad.”
“Very hip.” I noted.
“Yeah.” Oliver agreed and we had a little more small talk, getting to know each other before Oliver abruptly asked, “So did you have to get those cubes?”
“Oh yeah, that was weird.” Vicki said, squinting her eyes. “I don’t know what the hell that was about, I tried to see if there was an opening, or something, but it was just a block, I didn’t see anything to take it apart.”
“How many places did you go?” I asked.
“Seattle, Portland, a couple of places in Northern California. You?”
I looked at Oliver, who very subtly shook his head. I looked back at Vicki. “A little more.”
Vicki hummed in thought at that. “I wonder how much we’ll get, if it really means anything on how many apartments we visited, or if he was just being a bastard.”
“Was he really that bad?” I asked, then told her about my only encounter with him.
“Pretty damn rough.” Vicki said. “My mom said he used to be a lot better before I was born, something shifted when the twenty-first century happened.”
“Is your mom here?” Oliver asked.
Vicki shook her head. “No, she came earlier, we’re the batch that he couldn’t get in contact with before he died. Besides, we’re not really talking, she wasn’t happy about my career choice either.”
“Oh, sorry.” I said, “Maybe she’ll…come around?”
“Yeah, she probably will.” Vicki said. “She just needs some time, I mean I get it, it’s not something every parent is just dying to hear about. Would either of your parents like to hear about it?”
I thought about it; my parents probably wouldn’t even notice. With my newfound interests with the same sex, that career choice would probably raise some more attention from them. Mr. Otto would eventually try to be supportive; Mrs. Otto would move heaven and earth to stop it.
“Probably not.” We both answered.
“You don’t have any good memories of him?” I asked.
Vicki considered this, looking into space.
“He was always…preachy. He was religious, fine, but he talked a lot more about America; that’s what he really liked, and what he wouldn’t shut up about. It only got worse and worse as it went on. He was okay when my grandma was alive; I do remember them taking me to Disneyland. That was a pretty good day.”
We talked for a while longer, servants taking our order and bringing us food. Vicki eventually left, excusing herself, going to the pool.
“She was nice.”
“Yeah.” Oliver agreed. “And I bet she’s making plenty of money too.”
I didn’t like the tone in his voice, and I tried to think of what to say, something flirty, but not too dirty.
“You think I’d make a lot of money?” I asked, my face burning the second I finished my sentence. I don’t know where the hell that came from.
Oliver’s face was a little red, but an amused smile was on his face. “Are you asking if I think you’d make good porn?”
A moment of silence. “Yeah.” I finally said. “That’s what I’m asking.”
I could tell Oliver was enjoying this, but despite the nature of the conversation, it wasn’t verging on romantic, this is some stupid thing bros say to each other.
“I think you’d do good.” I tried to muster all my confidence. “I think you’d do great.”
Oliver’s smile fell and his cheeks turned crimson, and he looked away; I felt pleased that I was able to get to him and give a little hint about my feelings.
“Thanks, I guess.” Oliver said.
“What about me?” I asked.
“I…guess you’d do fine.”
I decided not to push anymore and left it at that, but a little bit happier with where our barriers were at.
Chapter Text
Oliver and I were found by Marian just as we were getting up from the table.
“Good morning, boys! Oh Ms. Mendez was very happy with you two and your work, very good news I bet.” Oliver and I greeted her good morning, and she continued. “I want to apologize for the piss-poor welcoming we gave you last night, some of General Cushing’s family are very touchy when it comes to their sleeping arrangements. We’re very happy to have you here, I promise, well, as happy as we can be to have people who expect us to work.”
She laughed, and it was very infectious, leading to Oliver and I chuckling.
“Any-who, by the end of the month the staff is expected to clear out, as well are any of his relatives who did not end up inheriting this place, until then you are allowed to longue and rest and relax and all of that, but I’m betting you’re waiting to hear about the money.”
“This lady knows her crowd.” Oliver laughed.
“Well, Wednesday at noon Ms. Mendez will be holding a meeting, letting all of you know who gets what.”
“Wait so we’ll have to stay here for that long?” Oliver asked.
Marian shrugged. “He had some quirks, some eccentric ran through his blood. But you don’t really have to stay here, if you want to go find a hotel.”
“We can stay here.” I said, “It’ll be nice vacation.”
Oliver shrugged. “Well, it beats being around my parents. But what’s with the internet?”
“Yeah, we kind of necesitamos that, you know, teens.” I held out my hands helplessly.
“Well, sorry boys, but no tower reaches over here, not yet. Your uncle paid pretty high to make sure that wouldn’t happen. I can give you the Wi-Fi password, but your uncle made sure tons of sites were blocked.”
“It’s still better than nothing.” Oliver said. “Oh, hey, what is up with all of the blocked rooms and halls according to the map? And are those updated frequently.”
“Yes, his great-uncle was really on top of keeping things organized.” Marian said. “As you know he was in the military, and well, there are people still deciding what is his property and what is the property of the government, so it’ll be blocked for a while.”
Marian gave Oliver the password and we both connected.
“Do you think you’ll get anything?” I asked.
“Only the satisfaction of seeing that bastard die.” Marian said. “Oh, I’ve known him for the last twenty years. He was my best friend, as much as you can be with your boss, but he always said he was going to outlast me, proved the man wrong. Of course I’ll miss him, but to be perfectly honest, my life will be a lot easier without him.”
“I feel the same way about my mom.” Oliver said.
“Well, I’ll probably see you around some more, I just wanted to let you know that the meeting will be held in the domino office. And now I’m off, just like the Lone Ranger.”
Chapter 24
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
We decided to go exploring through the grounds and found ourselves in the gardens, strolling along a flowery section, flowers blooming together, divided by color, rows and rows of flowers, the shade slowly morphing as you walked deeper.
We found ourselves in between rows of blue flowers, more specifically between the royal and navy blue; we were sitting on a metal bench, that came with a metal footstool. It was warm, and sunny, like a perfect movie, and all around perfect with Oliver beside me.
Flowers always seemed to have brighter colors and stronger smells whenever I was in love. My mom had a huge garden in corner of our yard when she went to a home and gardening gala, and although she never tended to it, she had a gardener come twice a day to take care of it.
I strolled through those gardens whenever I was in a particularly romantic mood, sticking my faces into them and enjoying those fragrances. Thinking about those girls’ perfumes and their warmth, and those nice feelings they gave me. I usually like to give myself overstimulating factors, keeping music or a tv show on while I play video games, always leaving something on when I cooked, but in the garden, I always found myself enjoying the silence, and the serenity of it.
In my great-uncle’s garden, I felt a similar feeling, plus a layer of nervousness with Oliver beside me, enjoying being with him, and nervous about how to start this, hoping to be smoother than our conversation at breakfast.
“My eyes are tearing up from all of this pollen Cooper, you about ready to go?”
Oliver wasn’t quite as captivated with the garden as I was, but the fact he hadn’t steamrolled my decision gave me some fluttery feelings.
“Your eyes look fine too me.” I said and thought of something. “They always look good, I wish I had eyes like yours, so big and brown and expressive, but I guess I’ll settle for looking at yours’.”
Oliver cast his eyes away from me, but I could see a grin spread on his face, widening on his flushed skin.
“Oh, you must be Cooper and Oliver?” a male voice said.
Oliver and I looked up and saw a man in his late twenties approaching us. He had long brown-bordering-on-black hair that went down to his mid-back; it blended in with his beard. All of his hair was frizzy, including his bushy eyebrows. He was fit, not a gym-bro kind of build, but like somebody that did a lot of physical labor. He wore a cerulean tank top and baby-blue shorts that showed his muscles and had a big grin on his face, though I couldn’t get over his beard and hair, it was in desperate need to be shampooed. I kept down a retch and forced a smile onto my face.
We explained who we were and shook hands.
“Yeah, my dad is Arthur’s cousin, so we’re…second cousins, once removed.” He explained. “Gabriel.”
“Que?” I asked.
“He’s your cousin, Gabirel, Cooper.” Oliver said, then turned to Gabriel. “We’ll need a white board for him to really understand this.”
“No worries, we’re family, that’s good enough.” Gabriel said. “You two look a bit young, you in school?”
“Yeah, I’m about to go to culinary school in Cambridge.” I pointed to Oliver. “He’s going to Harvard.”
“Cool, I graduated from there.” Gabriel said. “Med school.”
“Bueno, are you practicing?” I asked.
“Yeah, I decided to leave the states when I saw how things were over in the middle east.”
“Oh.” I nodded. “What do you do over there?”
“I spend most of my time in Gaza, trying to help out over there, I do a lot of surgeries there.” Gabriel said. “I’m a part of an organization that helps them with resources, too. I spend about eleven months a year there, and when I’m not there, I’m here trying to spread awareness, you wouldn’t know how many people want to just keep their heads in the sand and ignore what’s happening.”
I nodded, cringing a little at my thoughts of his beard, feeling like a jerk for judging him; though I wasn’t exactly sure all that was happening over there, Palestinian struggles wasn’t as known to the average American teenagers back then, I still felt like a greedy super-villain compared to him.
“That’s very…noble.” I said, deciding that was probably the right word.
“Thanks, I wish Uncle Arthur had felt the same way.” Gabriel said, his smile falling and rolling his eyes.
“He didn’t support your work?” Oliver asked, and I reminded myself to ask Oliver about what this was.
“Oh, God no.” Gabriel bitterly chuckled. “That wouldn’t suit his militaristic-driven agenda that lead his life. He wanted it wiped off, ass[bleep] monster. Always talking about our allies in Israel, and it being the chosen land. Give me a break, you know? It’s the same bull that they used to expunge the Native Americans. Of course, England and America didn’t routinely bomb children like they’re doing.”
Gabriel was in another world for a second, one that filled his face with fury. He took a deep breath and shook himself out, putting back on a small smile.
“Sorry, dude.” Oliver said weakly.
“Yeah, well, I’m just glad I can help when I can Being here is kind of screwing it up, I need them to read the will, soon.” Gabriel reached into his pocket and grabbed a joint. “Want some?”
I nodded, and he handed us a handful of joints.
“Best thing about being back in California, I’ll tell you.” Gabriel said. “Just wanted to introduce myself, I’ll leave you two alone.”
We bid him farewell and watched as he left, both feeling a certain kind of sickness to our stomachs that kind of hurt our romantic mood.
Notes:
There are about to be some insidious monsters and a government conspiracy attacking Oliver and Cooper, so their hands will be full, but YOU can still do your best to help with the ongoing genocide in Palestine. There are numerous charities to donate to, and if you are unable to afford it, you can just do a click on arab.org and there will be a donation done. Please consider this, thank you!
Chapter Text
An hour or so later, Oliver and I found ourselves in the pool after a quick change, bringing along with us some athletic clothes to change into to play a tennis game.
I looked at Oliver’s body with new appreciation as we slipped into the pool, hoping that I looked halfway as nice, though I doubted it. The water felt cooler, brisker, crisper than the pond we had swam in, and was more refreshing, rejuvenating my nerves.
We both rested with our backs against the wall of the pool, puffing the joints that Gabriel had given us, laughing and talking to one another, giggles emitting between us.
I had slung my left hand over the edge of the pool and had slowly leaned it forward until it rested on Oliver’s shoulder, which he left there, surprising me, and had rested his head on my shoulder, really surprising me.
The sun beat down on us, warming my arms and face, the water became less cool, and less refreshing as time went on, but I wouldn’t dare move and disengage myself from Oliver, and move an inch.
I brought the joint to my lips but felt a slap on my hand as Oliver began giggling. I looked at the roll in the clear water, a rather nasty sight in the otherwise clean liquid.
“Amigo, no bueno.” I laughed, scooping in to get the joint.
“Sorry, I guess this is stronger than Connecticut’s finest.” Oliver giggled.
I reached for Oliver’s joint, but he held it from me.
“Ese, por favor, be nice.” I whined, trying to reach for it.
Oliver shook his head, grinning. “Have you ever heard of shotgunning?”
I shook my head and Oliver’s smile gained a layer of mischief.
He moved directly in front of me, between my legs, he put his elbows on my thighs and smiled up at me, my heart suddenly stopping and felt a stir within me.
“Make you mouth open, then suck when you see the smoke come out.”
Oliver took a drag off the joint, and held it in his mouth, grinning. He leaned close to me, his closed lips only an inch away from my open ones. His eyes were half open as he opened his mouth, blowing the smoke to me.
I barely tried to suck the smoke, realizing how close our lips really were, if I leaned forward even the tiniest bit, we would be kissing.
Before that could happen, Oliver leaned back, pulling away from me.
“Not as good as I thought.” Oliver smirked as he said this.
“Sorry, I got confused.” I felt my cheeks turning red, and Oliver’s smirk increased.
“Mr. Bradford! Mr. Otto!” Marian’s raspy voice sung out. Oliver moved away from me more, and I tried to recompose myself.
“Should we hide the weed?” I whispered.
“It’s legal here, baby.” Oliver replied.
“Oh, it sure it.” Marian laughed. “Can I have a hit?”
Oliver shrugged and handed it to Marian, who inhaled deeply.
“Oh, that’s another good thing about your great-uncle being dead, God bless his soul, hated this stuff.” Marian handed it back to Oliver. “Is there anything in particular you two would like for dinner?”
I looked at Oliver and he shook his head. “No, whatever is bien.” I answered.
“Ooh, the language of love, sounds nice.” Marian said. “Do you speak fluently?”
“Not in the slightest.” Oliver said.
I shoved Oliver and laughed.
“Oh, that’s a shame, well we’ll be eating barbecue tonight, your uncle was planning on throwing a big party for the fourth, then he died, what a shame. That’s probably what we’ll be cooking every night.”
Chapter Text
After a shower, a change back into normal clothes, and lunch with Vicki and Gabe, we found ourselves in a grand hall, the walls decorated with paintings, sculptures filling the floor, a private art museum to ourselves.
I’ve always liked art; I don’t talk about it a ton, but one of the things my parents did show interest in was testing me on my etiquette lessons. They always quizzed me about wine, and food, and social graces, and at the time I liked them. I still valued them, but really didn’t get much usage outside of knowing what to cook.
Still, seeing the brush strokes against canvas was a nostalgic sort of feeling, the use of colors and shapes. I enjoyed telling Oliver about each of the styles and artists behind each painting and sculpture. He got to tell me so much stuff, explain so much to me, it was nice to be the driving force for once, to actually explain to him something.
I was in the middle of an explanation when an old woman walked up, listening in.
“Artist or just an admirer?” the woman asked.
“I just like it.” I said, “I tried drawing once, ended up pretty bad.”
“It takes a lot of training and practice to get it right.” The woman said.
“Yeah, that’s not really for me.” I laughed. “I’m Cooper Bradford, this is Oliver Otto. I was Arthur’s nephew.”
“Grandnephew.” Oliver corrected me.
“Oh, my goodness, you’re Eunice’s grandson.” The woman squealed, her voice full of excitement, then brought me into a hug. She felt so frail, her bones stabbing me, and her perfume was overwhelming, a fragrance they hadn’t made in decades, but it was so nice to be held like that.
“I’m her sister, your aunt, well, great-aunt, but who needs the formalities like that?” She pulled away from me and I looked at her, closer. Unlike my Great-Uncle Arthur, I had more memories of my grandparents, Eunice included, good memories, bad memories. They all died when I was ten, my dad’s dad a month after my tenth birthday, then Eunice three months after that. My dad’s mom died three months after that, then three more months my mom’s dad died. It was a very tragic year for us, it was really one of the only times I felt close to my parents.
My grandparents were all friends in college and were very close to each other, while they were in school. They coupled and went to different coasts, and pretty much lost contact with each other. One set had my mother, the old money ones, then fifteen years the new money couple had my dad, then my parents got together at an age and way they keep vague, although I suspect she was a bit old for my dad.
My grandparents grew closer together after my parents married, and lived in two very close Florida homes, that we visited often during my childhood, stopping for a weekend there at least every two months.
Eunice was the calmest of my grandparents, and the quietest, the oldest, and the sweetest of all my family. Still a rather nasty person in general, not to me though. She had long hair that veered from blonde to white, soft blue eyes. My other grandparents played host to my parents whenever they went out to the Florida scene, so I was often left alone with her.
She was the only non-domestic person I ever met that knew how to bake; I remember sitting at the kitchen counter, watching her soap operas and her showing me how to bake. We made brownies, cookies, and cupcakes together; her husband would show some interest, but largely it was the two of us that ate them.
I smiled at that memory and heard Eunice’s sister sigh.
“Oh God, you have her smile, I haven’t seen it in years.”
I felt my smile get wider, feeling very flattered by that. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome, honey.” She put her hands on my arms, her grip a lot stronger than you would suspect. “And you can just call me Aunt Jillian.”
“You’re the sister of the deceased?” Oliver asked.
Aunt Jillian sighed. “Ah, yes. Arthur was my baby brother. Two years seems like so much of a gap when you’re a kid, and it never really closes in your mind.” Aunt Jillian let go of me and looked towards the painting. “I always thought of him as my baby brother, still do.”
“I’m sorry.” I said, surprised that somebody was actually sad about his death.
“Oh, don’t be too sorry, you weren’t the disease that did him in.” Aunt Jillian smiled at me. “And truth be told it had been a while, far too long since we last talked, I wish we would have been talking, so I’m also to blame for this feeling.”
“I’m sure he knew you loved him.” Oliver said, trying to bust out his Teen Help Line advice.
“Have you talked to any of the other relatives of ours?” Aunt Jillian smiled when we both nodded. “Well, you know how your uncle was. A mean, irritable…man, let’s say. He was stubborn as an ox too, if he got it in his head you were mad at him, he’d believe it with every fiber of his being.”
“Did you do something to make him upset?” I asked.
“Oh yes. He was staunchly conservative and wouldn’t shut up about it.” Aunt Jillian laughed and got a faraway look. “When I came out and announced that Beverly, my wife well she was, my generation is just dropping like flies. Anyway, when I announced Beverly, and I were an item my whole family cast me aside.”
“Oh, that sucks.” Oliver and I both said.
Aunt Jillian nodded at me. “Yes, it was a different time, a harsher, colder one for us. I knew it was a risk, and a likely one too, but I had to take it for Beverly, I couldn’t stand to keep calling her my roommate, and I already had gotten my trust fund. Eunice reached out to me a couple of months after I left, and we talked until the day she died. When our mother bought the farm, my dad reached out to repair our relationship, he was always a little hipper than mom.”
“Oh, Oliver knows about that, his mom is so cool.”
“Oh, that’s exactly something Eunice would have said. I started having monthly dinners with dad, and we’d ignore my lifestyle choice, as he called it. Your Uncle Arthur warmed up to it, especially when our dad died, but he was just making an exception for his sister. He made that very clear to me, that I was one of the good ones to him. Had to take what I could get.”
“Doesn’t that, I don’t know, suck?”
“Oh, yes, it really does, and did. Sometimes you have to show love and hope they’ll change, they’ll grow. Sometimes you ignore that they won’t just because you love them so much, even if it hurts to know how they feel. I knew he would be hateful no matter if I was here or not, so I may as well enjoy his company.”
“Did you like his company?” Oliver asked. “No offense, but from what we’ve heard, he was rather unlikable.”
“Yes, he was. Surely there must be someone in your family who says stupid things, and is annoying as all heck, but there’s a part of you that loves them still.” Oliver made a face that had Aunt Jillian grinning. “I thought so. It’s sometimes just easiest that way.”
We talked for a while, until she got a call from her son and had to excuse herself, we made plans to talk later at dinner.
“Oh, I would love to show you my grandchildren, you’ll love them, we’ll need to set something up.”
After leaving the room, I turned to smile at Oliver.
“Relatives my age.” I said, “Cousins, I think, right?”
“Second cousins.” Oliver said, smiling at me. “I’m happy dude, I’ve always wondered what it was like to have cousins, maybe it’s nice.”
“You have siblings, that’s better than cousins.” I noted.
“I don’t know, I think I’d like Taylor and Anna-Kat in smaller doses.”
“You know you love them.”
“Not as much as I love yoo…other things.” Oliver said, chuckling at his mistake.
We shared a smile, one that lasted a little too long for our pretense of platonic to keep going.
“We should go to more art museums, or actual ones, not just a private collection.” I said, “Though I bet this is pretty costly.”
Oliver nodded. “I’m a bit dense on this, but yeah, I’d like that, you can help me with knowing about it.”
“I’d love to do that, just the two of us.”
We began walking out, when a particular painting stuck out.
It looked newer but it was trying to give off the impression of being older, and brittle, and wasn’t done by any artist I had any familiarity with.
It showed a dark, black area, a field perhaps, with the only light being from a figure in the middle. The figure had limbs and a body, but seemed metallic, green and purple swirls all around the body.
As I leaned in closer, I could see a creature in the shadows, barely visible. Hairy, and on fours, with a pained, agonized look on its face, so miniscule compared to the suit. It wasn’t the only one. A woman, a man, little flying…things, scaled creatures. I felt a twist in my stomach, this was all too familiar.
I kept looking and noticed more features, more and more faces, pained, angry, sorrowful in the shadows, all looking like they were trying to escape, almost.
I wondered what it meant for a second, and thought about telling Oliver my latest dreams, then decided against it.
“You good, dude?” Oliver asked.
“Yeah, just daydreaming, I guess.”
Chapter Text
Oliver and I were pajama-clad, playing Mario and eating a lot of junk. We were both laid on our stomachs, and our feet were bumping against one another, our sock-covered feet taking turns from tugging for dominance, grazing each other, and just resting against one another, moves that felt tender. The moon was mostly out and was lighting up the grounds, its light spilling in, though the screen had mostly overshadowed it.
We attended dinner, mostly just to talk, having filled up on snacks when we went into town to call Mr. and Mrs. Otto, and despite what Marian had said, neither of us could think about eating the barbeque.
I enjoyed talking to my relatives, especially listening to Aunt Jillian showing me all of the photos of her grandchildren and telling me all about them. They were a little old, not young enough to cultivate relationships like siblings could, but it was still nice getting to know them, in a way.
Oliver and I were the last to leave dinner, trying our hardest to eat the barbecue, but we just couldn’t take a bite. This got us angry looks from the chefs as we left.
His body was so warm against mine; I wanted to embrace him and take him in my arms, forget about everything else. The tension was so thick, if he would just make a move I would give in so easily. That’s how most of our relationships went, and I was ready to be led into the next step again.
“Dammit!” Oliver groaned, dying again in the game. He threw his face down into the bed, sighing heavily, looking adorable.
“You want to be done?” I asked, pausing the game.
Oliver nodded, his face still in the mattress.
I laughed and got up, going over to the closet. Marian told us at dinner that they had put most of things from the entertainment room into our closets. Random things, as well as a catalog to request in the morning or throughout the night. I looked through DVDs, video games, board games, books (ew). After shuffling for a while I noticed something, a board that was quite wider than the others, fitting Monopoly and Clue on top of it.
I dragged it out and chuckled at the word over the box, OUIJA. I told Oliver about it.
“Let’s just watch a crappy CW drama instead.” Oliver whined, lifting his head. “I’m not interested in talking to the dead.”
“They only have the WB dramas, and I don’t like old things. Come on, it’ll be fun.” I closed the closet and hopped on the bed with the box.
Oliver groaned, but turned and sat up, looking as I sat the Ouija board up, pretty easy job with only two pieces, and dropped the box on the ground.
“I don’t see any rules.”
“Well, we’ll just make it up, like the spiritualism movement.” Oliver ran his fingers over the board. “Okay, who are we going to contact first?”
“The man of the hour of course, my great uncle.”
“Alright.” Oliver’s fingers joined mine on the planchette, the thing you move to use the board. “Uncle Arthur, why were you such a dick to everybody?” I tsked my tongue at Oliver and he shrugged. “What, if he’s really a ghost he must have heard everybody.”
We looked at the planchette, completely still and lifeless.
“I think we started it wrong.” I tried to think of that Ouija movie I had seen but struggled to remember anything enjoyable about it, much less informational.
“Spirits of beyond.” Oliver said in the flattest voice he had ever managed, which was really impressive, considering how flat it usually was. “What’s my name?”
I felt Oliver move me towards the O on the board, then the L, then I, V, E, R; then it kind of floated around for a second before going to D, U, K, and E, the another circling the side before it ended on O, T, T, and O.
“Cooper, we really didn’t have to do my whole name.”
“I didn’t move it.” I answered.
“Yeah okay.” Oliver’s voice dripped with sarcasm. I tried to think of something more fun for the board to come up with.
“Is my great uncle, Arthur Cusher-.”
“Cushing.”
“Cushing.” I corrected myself. “General Arthur Cushing, are you here tonight?”
The planchette moved over to NO on the board.
“Real funny, Oliver.” I sighed.
“I didn’t do it, I’m barely interested.” Oliver looked at me, and from his bored expression I could tell he was being genuine. “Are you trying to scare me or something?”
I shook my head. “No, if I wanted to do that I’d put on a scary movie, I know you can’t handle them.”
I looked back at the board and thought. “Is there a ghost here?”
The planchette drifted towards YES.
“Ooh, proof!”
Oliver rolled his eyes. “Let me try. Are you man or woman?”
B-O-T-H.
“Huh, Facebook freaks are going to have a meltdown if this ever gets to them.” Oliver said.
“How old are you?” I asked.
Rather than going to the numbers, it went to the letters and spelt out. V-A-R-I-E-S.
“Great, a schizophrenic ghost.” Oliver said, but I could tell he was more intrigued now. “Here, this, how many ghosts are there?”
1-2 the planchette answered.
“Twelve ghosts? There’s twelve of you?” I asked.
The planchette moved to yes, very quickly, a lot quicker than seemed either Oliver or I would do.
“Ooh, spooky.” I said, trying to think of another question.
Oliver removed his hands. “Alright, I’m done with this, that’s enough for now.”
The planchette moved beneath my hands to S, and that was enough to convince me. From the look on Oliver’s face, he was also convinced, though with the way he was sucking on his lips let me know he was going to deny it.
After the S, it went to T-A-Y.
“No thanks, goodbye.” I moved it towards the goodbye really quick and threw the planchette into the box, Oliver grabbing the board and dropping it in as well.
With it gone, Oliver and I looked at each other, and I tried to think of what to say, trying to reconcile that this could mean that supernatural things really exist.
Oliver brought his hands together in a clap. “Alright, we’re going to ignore that.”
I nodded along, not wanting to think about it much more.
Chapter Text
It took a long time to fall asleep, we made it through two discs of a sitcom about an overweight cop and overweight teacher falling in love before we fell asleep.
Oliver forbade me from talking about it, which I was fine with. It was too creepy, too similar to my dreams. I was afraid of them coming up again. I was kind of dense, and in a bit of a love haze, but I was starting to put pieces together, and not liking what I was seeing. I decided I should do to it what I did with every puzzle I’ve ever attempted. Ignore the pieces and pretend like I’ve never tried to do the puzzle.
I was prepared to dream about Mrs. Otto finally calling me her son, when I drifted off, and was brought up another dream piece of the puzzle.
More months had to have passed since whatever happened with those sheep, maybe a year even. My nervousness had slipped away, any apprehension about my actions or intentions gone. I didn’t feel guilt, remorse, or regret, no fear, or sorrow, or anxiousness.
I did feel a sense of accomplishment, a sense of pride as I stared at my work, at my collection. Flashes of memories passing through my mind as I remembered each capture, my role in each growing and growing until I had reached so I was doing missions myself, hauling them in by the score.
I also felt a sense of hunger, ready to capture more. I wanted to do more, to get more of them. Plans circulated in my mind, what would be the quickest; what would be the slowest, the most difficult, the most exciting.
I felt like Alexander the Great, I knew this was limited. No matter how much there was in the crevices and cracks of this world, the well would eventually end up dry up. Until then, I was determined to savor each and every hunt, and make sure they each last.
There was some reprieve, I would be able to move onto people next. That would be a new challenge, completely unlike this, an exercise in mental fortitude, in stealth, in perfecting manipulation. It would be quite a different task, one that would require a lot more training and practice, and one I was sure would be worth it in the end.
I was underground, wearing sweats, concrete surrounding me on all sides as I walked through the halls. The temperature was largely cool, but some cages got colder or hotter as I walked past them, and if it wasn’t for the specialization, I could have been in danger.
I smirked as I heard them bang against the glass. Stupid creatures, they would never, ever get out, never see the sun again, feel natural grass. If they were lucky, they would grow old here. It was almost enough to make me smile.
I turned a corner and was met with them standing there in their long black robes, contrasting with their snowy white hair and even paler skin wrapped tightly around their skeleton forms. The two stood there, one smiling, one frowning, just like they always were My teachers.
“Mr. Bradford you’re being awfully slow.” The frowning one snapped, his voice surprisingly song for his age, which I knew was ancient, they had both been here since nearly the beginning.
“Just admiring his trophies, am I right Luca?” the smiling one sung out. “There’s nothing wrong with taking your time on a little stroll, not when you’re one of us.”
“Still haven’t decided.” I said with a chuckle.
“Oh, you will, I know it.” The smiler said.
“The General still needs you, within the next few minutes.” The Frowner stated.
I rolled my eyes but kept walking towards his lair; I knew no punishment would face me, but that wasn’t out of graciousness, it was because I was smart enough to follow rules.
I walked past them, feeling pleased at my collection, but still felt their eyes on me, I could feel the exact spots they were looking at, burning. Despite them knowing every cavity of me, there was very little about them I knew, and I could not trust them in the slightest. The General has told me, he himself doesn’t know about them much.
I reached the center of the complex, and reached the General, standing in front of his monitors, in front of his suit, the cigar smell heavy, with dozens of employees around him.
“Luca, I have some news that concerns you especially.” He said with a smile.
Chapter Text
July 11th, 2022
Early the next morning, Oliver and I found ourselves in the woods, an uncomfortable silence between us, thoughts of the board and all that junk spiraling in my mind. Judging by Oliver’s looks, I sensed that he was thinking about this too. It had really done a number on our romantic mood, even though we stayed in the same room, Oliver building a wall between pillows between us.
You may think that taking a hike through the forest didn’t match our personalities, and you would be right; however, the path in the woods was quite different than most, having a path of granite in the woods, timed mosquito sprayers in the trees, and filtered water fountains spread out every quarter mile, so it was more our speed.
The branches full of leaves gave us shade, and the frequent water fountains kept us hydrated, so except for the haunting experiences in the bedroom, we were fine. It would have been romantic, even.
“Nice day.” I noted.
“It’s almost triple digits, it’s terrible.” Oliver said.
I snorted a laugh, then sighed. Supernatural and romance, if Oliver was a vampire or something, then they could blend together, but the realization that there was something actually horrifying and ghosty was overriding the romantic feelings I had. I wanted to bring up my dreams, but it would have been too weird, like it was confirming that there was something happening.
I was still having a hard time wrapping my head around the idea of the supernatural being real. I’ve been more inclined to believe it than others, like Oliver, but it wasn’t like it was core fundamental aspect of my life, just something I vaguely thought of and spent a few thousand dollars when I got interested in it, like the normal person does when they pick up a hobby.
I had been to church, and I hadn’t really balked at the notion of God, or Jesus, or anything, I think I’m protestant after all, I think; I tuned into all of the things I knew about the bible when I went to sleep and prayed really hard, but it had to be the first time in years that I really thought about it. I didn’t really think much of it growing up, it really didn’t seem to matter much to me, I always thought I was going to become half-machine by my sixties so I wouldn’t have to worry about heaven.
I looked over at Oliver and wondered his opinions; I think he’s called himself a WASP before, but he’s never seemed too relgious. Except for insulting homeless and poor people, I’ve never seen him express political opinions either; I hope he didn’t feel that way anymore, that would really interfere with our being good people lifestyle his mom was enforcing.
“So, should we talk about it?” I asked.
“About what, shared delusions?” Oliver avoided my eyes, grabbing the occasional stick or rock and tossing it to the side, something I guess poor people had to do for entertainment. “Cooper, I really don’t want to think about it, or talk about it, nothing happened.”
“I don’t know, it seems like there’s ghosts around here.” I grabbed a stick and fiddled with it, flipping it, feeling a little powerful with it in my hands.
“Electromagnets, or something, nanobots. I don’t know, there’s a realistic explanation.”
“Those don’t really sound like realistic explanations to me, I mean if it’s like requires a masters degree it’s pretty much magic.”
“Okay, number one, it’s not the same. And number two, maybe one of your relatives is pranking us, trying to scare us.”
“Oh my gosh, like Scooby-Doo?”
“Yeah, a perfectly good explanation, some guy doing it all.” Oliver said. “Maybe they’re trying to steal the inheritance.”
“But what if it’s real?” I asked.
“It’s always some guy in a mask, when has it ever been a real monster?”
“Tons of times.” I said, “There’s the zombie one, the live action movies, the witch ghost one, the alien one, they met a genie in the seventies, they-.”
“We’ll go over Scooby-Doo’s examples of real supernatural examples later, okay? For now, let’s just ignore all of this.” Oliver said.
“But what if it is a ghost, or one of my relatives really is a psychopath? Both seem scary. Shouldn’t we find a way to protect ourselves?”
“We’ll just drive to Texas, get a gun and let that be it, those hicks are just coughing them out of their mouths over there.”
“Oliver don’t talk about Texas like that, you don’t mess with it. Didn’t you see that sign, or see how big that place was? I don’t think we could take them.”
“Oh, come on, their barbecue and beer make them too lethargic to do anything.”
“Oliver, you saw their…wait, ghosts or evil family members, we’re talking about those things, not Texas.”
“We really don’t need to worry about it.” Oliver said. “Really, nothing weird is going on.”
“You can’t just be ignoring things.” I sighed and threw the stick into the tree line. Now, I didn’t know the forest that well, but I could tell the difference between nature rustling because a stick hit it, and a tent rustling when getting hit by a stick.
Oliver and I made a face at one another, and then back towards the forest. The stick had gone far into the trees, so it took some focus, but I could see just the slightest piece of red and gray plastic sticking out.
“Oliver…” I whispered.
People camping in the forest may not be odd, but considering this was a private forest, gated in, this was definitely sketchy. Oliver looked at me, shooting me a warning glance you usually reserve for a toddler or an animal.
I stepped off the path and closer to the tent, Oliver hissing uncomprehendingly at me. Stepping forward, it was fully confirmed that it was a tent, with supplies, bottles, tools, other things laid out in front of it, looking messy and like it had been abandoned.
I did a scan for entrails and blood and body parts and felt instant relief that there were none. I turned and looked at Oliver, looking at me like I had just shot someone in the face. “Come on, look with me.”
“Cooper get your ass up here.” Oliver barked.
“What?” I asked. “Nobody’s here.”
“Cooper, look at this from the outside, at best, you’re invading on an abandoned campsite on illegal ground.”
I rolled my eyes but turned around and walked back towards him.
“Alright, we’ve got to go and report this.” Oliver said.
Only a few minutes and less than a quarter mile later we saw Marian. She was at the front of the yard, directing groundskeepers on how to take care of the garden and drinking out of a flask when we came up to her.
“Oh, boys, how nice to see you two.” Marian said, smiling wide and happy at us. Her smile slipped away as me and Oliver told her about the campsite.
“Well thank you boys for this, this is very serious.” Marian whipped out a walkie talkie from the pocket of her apron and held it up. “Security, we’re going to need to have a meeting in…the northern aquarium, let’s say.”
“The aquarium?” Oliver asked after she shoved the walkie talkie back in her pocket.
“Yes, the aquarium, I would like them to see the importance of doing their jobs, and I am going to use fish to demonstrate this.” Marian’s voice was chipper, but I felt a bit of rage within her. “You know, this property is clearly private, as you two must be sure, we hadn’t had an intruder here for decades, and just because the General is dead, doesn’t mean it’s time to let that lapse.”
I nodded. “Alrighty, bueno.” We stood there awkwardly for a second, before I thought to ask a question. “Oh, Marian, do you know anything here about ghosts, like that are a part of the house?”
“Oh, don’t be silly.” Marian laughed. “This place isn’t haunted.”
Chapter Text
“Oh yeah, totally haunted.”
Vicki said it casually in the elaborative gym within the mansion, worthy of a hefty membership. She was dressed in sweats and had her hair tightly behind her head and didn’t quite look as…adult starry as she had the day before. Gabriel was in there as well, spotting her, wearing a spandex leotard that looked out of an eighties flashback on a sitcom. The greatest part was that he had gotten a haircut first thing in the morning and had shaven his beard to be manageable state.
“I mean, nothing like what you had said, just misplaced items, weird noises in the wall.” Vicki switched with Gabriel and laid on the bench. “And from the basement.”
“Oh, I hate the basement, he tried to force me down there when I was a kid, when I criticized Bush.” Gabriel sighed. “Gosh he was a monster.”
“See, I told you.” I looked at Oliver who was rolling his eyes. We were both in athletic gear, ready to work out when we ran into Gabriel and Vicki. In the back of my mind, I felt I needed to work on my body to get Oliver’s full attention and love.
“It’s not haunted, we were still a little high, and possibly drunk.” Oliver lamely said.
“We drank forty-eight hours before our paranormal encounter.” I pointed out.
“Okay, but definitely high.” Oliver said.
“I don’t think it works like that.” I turned my attention to my cousins. “Do you know anything about the ghosts? Names, dates of births, deaths, motives?”
Gabriel chuckled. “No, it was all just pretend stuff, campfire stories and urban legends, I don’t think any of it is based on truth.”
“I would beg to differ.” Vicki said. “You know, I remember reading some creepy crap in the library, I wrote something about it once for school, got an A.”
“You got an A because the General would always donate to our schools.” Gabriel looked at us. “He always had us enrolled in these ultra conservative, Christian schools. You got lucky that your mom wasn’t under his thumb.”
“Yeah, he got to attend public school.” Oliver said, which resulted in both of my cousins expressing disgust.
“It was a private school all but in name.” I clarified. “Only rich people lived in the town.” I thought about it and added, “Oliver’s family too.”
“Thanks.” Oliver sighed.
“Well, I don’t really think you have anything to worry about, I don’t think they follow you. It’s just a fun spooky story to tell your friends when you get back home.” Vicki said.
“Yeah!” I said, wondering what Mrs. Otto thinks about the supernatural. “Did you say the library had stuff about the hauntings?”
Vicki nodded. “Yeah, in like a diary, or journal, not a real book. But it was there with the others when I saw it, you know, like a decade ago.”
“The General never threw anything away, though.” Gabriel said. “Especially not something like a family diary.”
“Did he make you call him the General?” Oliver asked.
“Yes.” Both laughed, though I felt like I already knew this. I thought of that for a second, then thought about that book in the library.
Chapter Text
“Come on, you read everything for me at school.”
“Cooper, I’m not playing detective, or monster-hunter, or anything like that.” Oliver said. “And I’m definitely not reading through all of these to find evidence of dead people.”
“C’mon, please.” I whined. “I’ll be your best friend.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that position isn’t that fulfilling.”
I frowned, but then I saw his smirk and my heartbeat faster, my love for him coming back front and center. I don’t know how other people deal with apparent supernatural presence, but it kind of pushes romance away for me.
The two of us had worked out for an hour or so, then left and showered in our rooms again. I’ve always been fascinated with Oliver working out, and his dedication to it. Just another thing that he did to try and reach his goals. Previously I had thought of it as mere admiration, but now it was definitely infatuation.
We were walking through the halls again, debating what to do until lunch. Oliver wanted to enjoy the spa, which definitely had its perks, but the dreams, and the ghost were all adding up to be something that I needed to address, and investigate, for some reason. This was all mixing together to add up to hurting my mind, and putting me on an alert, and I wanted to get all of it over with to focus on my romance with Oliver.
I decided to do something a bit romantic, a bit teasing, and reached to slap his ass, which caused him to shriek and giggle, as well as his face turning red.
“Grabbing my ass?” Oliver smiled despite his blush, almost smirking. “That’s your way to get me to do what you want?”
“Come on, I think you liked it.” I hoped my voice was a nice balance of seriousness and joking, though I fear the humor dropped by the end. “You can get more of that if you help me research.”
A chortle, a nasty sounding word escaped from Oliver’s mouth. “Well then let’s get started.”
“Really?”
Oliver’s smile fell. “I’ll give it an hour, we aren’t doing anything else, but then we drop it, this place isn’t haunted, your relatives probably aren’t trying to get all the money, this is all in our heads.”
“What if another occurrence…occurs?”
“Then we’re going to stay in a hotel.”
Chapter Text
The bibliotheca was longer than the Otto’s house, though a smidge bit thinner in terms of width, filled to the brim with books, and a row of tables as if it was a part of a university.
At one of the tables sat Aunt Jillian, with legal pads, papers, and stacks of books; her blonde hair was mussed, she had wired earphones on and was dressed in casual clothes. She had a pencil behind her ear and was jotting something down on the pad.
“Hey Aunt Jillian!” I cheered and strode over to her. “What are you doing?”
Aunt Jillian looked up, a bit startled, but then smiled.
“Oh, hello boys.” Aunt Jillian stopped writing and leaned forward into a comfortable position, moaning as she stretched. “I’m just working on some research of the family, we have quite a collection of family history.”
“Oh cool, you find any dead people?” I asked.
“What he means to ask if you know of anybody dying here?” Oliver said. “He’s got the notion there’s a haunting.”
“Oh, the kids were always going on about hauntings whenever I was here, every Halloween they threw a fit and worked themselves into a conniption.”
“Yeah, we saw something.” I explained to her about the Ouija board and recapped our conversations with my cousins.
“Huh, I don’t know about any of that.” Aunt Jillian smirked. “You two sure you weren’t doing reefer?”
Oliver and I gave contrasting answers at the same time.
“Well, you’re happy to look around, and look through these when I’m done, I’m afraid the rest of the library are just regular, fiction books and some textbooks, first editions of course, no magazines or paperbacks.”
“Alright, we’ll look around, thanks.” Oliver and I looked to the stacks, though I mostly just felt them, not really understanding how to research.
Despite Oliver’s protests of not wanting to be here, there seemed to be a sense of enjoyment right below the surface handling all these books. It seemed odd to me that these could bring anybody any joy, and I was especially confused because I don’t remember Oliver ever liking books. I know he’ll read them, but he’ll always mention being forced to for some reason.
After about ten minutes I was tired of looking at them, and ready to abandon the whole project, though Oliver seemed borderline giddy at the books. I looked over at Aunt Jillian chewing on her pen, a concentrated look on her face as she read through the journals.
“I’m going to talk to Aunt Jillian for a second.”
“Sure.” Oliver said. “I’ll let you know if I see anything too interesting.”
“I won’t hold my breath.” I walked over to Aunt Jillian who smiled at me again.
“Hey Aunt Jillian.” I took a seat across from her. “What are you working on, exactly?”
“Oh, just writing a bit about the family. You know, when you’re my age, you think about all of the things that get lost through time, that were so important to one person and their family shrinks until it gets swallowed up and disappears.”
“Neat.” I said, “Like what?”
“I was looking through my diary I kept as a girl and seeing the jokes and arguments that I used to have with Arthur. Then I see others here, the books they used to read, and perfume they used to smell, all these things, these little interests and quirks and reactions that make people slip away. I remember my grandparents talking about their grandparents, but you know, I don’t think I ever mentioned them to my children, and I’m sure my grandkids will talk about me, but my grandparents will probably die with me.”
“Well, I hear they’re still alive as long you think about them.” I offered.
“Yes, that’s my point, nobody has thought about my grandparents in years, so they’re deader than dead. Sure, we’ll have their names, their births and deaths, their marriages, but we won’t have all of those details, the way they smile, the way they laugh. Some of its in these diaries and letters, and whatever else Arthur kept, but they aren’t doing much gathering dust here.”
“So, you’re documenting it?” I asked.
“As much as I can, going with what I remember from what my grandparents said, you know, just trying to bring a little bit of life back to them.”
Aunt Jillian told me about her memories and showed some members of my family. My parents never cared about things like that, after my grandparents died, they pretended that they never even existed, neither really mourned, showed any grief, and just moved on. They weren’t really interested in the past, they liked to move straight ahead.
“Cooper.” Oliver hissed.
I looked over at him, and noticed him holding a book that seemed familiar, black and smooth with no name or picture of any writing on it. He was motioning for me to come over. I looked over at Aunt Jillian and shrugged.
“It’s okay, I would have ditched any of my geezer families for Beverly, you know.”
I nodded. “I’ll be back.”
I got up and walked to Oliver, who had a look of worry on his face, and was deep in thought.
“This is that book, the occult one, with monsters and demons.” Oliver said.
“Well, it was in every apartment, it makes sense it’s here too.” I shrugged. “What’s the big deal?”
“You don’t think anything of this mysterious book and a haunting in this place?”
I felt like a lightbulb went off above my head. “You’re right. What do you think it means?”
Oliver shoved the book towards me. “Why don’t you check it out?”
“I don’t think it’s that kind of library.”
“Whatever, I’m ready to go and get dinner.”
I nodded. “You’re right.” I turned to Aunt Jillian. “Do you want to come get dinner with us?”
“Sure, why not.” Aunt Jillian said, gathering all of her stuff together. “It would have made my mom so happy to see me eating with two good-looking young men.”
Chapter Text
After dinner Oliver and I were back in his room, listening to a sitcom play in the background. Aunt Jillian didn’t know anything about the book when asked, but I still enjoyed talking to her and Vicki and Gabriel.
Oliver had read through some of the book, but then gave it to me after getting a headache from reading it. The book began with a long, long, long part where it dumped a bunch of three syllable words, contained no pictures, and was all too technical, though there was an odd angry tone to it.
I skipped right through that part, and went to the pictures. It kind of read like an information packet, facts both mundane and mystical in natural filling the page. It didn’t read like a horror book, or any kind of fictitious story at all, but instead like something Mr. Otto would set up to warn us of animals in the woods; boring, plain, and hidden details that should be horrifying but are explained in such an analytical way that boredom would kill us before any animal would.
There were some odd things I had read, fire killing vampires for one, but most of it seemed like pretty average things you get from horror movies and shows. It was so detailed and elaborate, but I just didn’t understand what the hell was the point of it.
“Esta bien, I’m ready to give up on this.” I tossed the book to the foot of the bed and leaned back onto the pillows, taking a heavy sigh, exhausted from my quarter-hour of reading. I looked at Oliver, sitting on the ottoman and reaching for the book. “We can just count it up to a one-time occurrence.”
“Okay, first of all, we are not sure there was anything, second of all we…count it up?” Oliver’s voice shifted to gain amusement. “It’s chalk it up.”
I rolled my eyes and reached for a pillow beside me, throwing it at Oliver, who easily dodged it and chuckled.
“I’m glad you’re putting this out of your mind, but I still think this book has something in it.” Oliver said. “Dumb question, do you know anything about his career in the military?”
I shook my head.
“Proof it was a dumb question.” Oliver said.
This time he hadn’t dodged my pillow.
“I’m bored.” I stood up. “All that reading has gotten to me.”
“It was ten minutes of flipping through, but okay.”
I felt like we hadn’t gotten anywhere in our relationship, progressing it any further, or adding romantic elements to it. I needed to get us back on track, to forget about this monster and stuff, and get us together again.
“There’s this part at the end-.” Oliver began, but I just couldn’t take it anymore.
“Let’s go to the hot tub!”
Oliver dropped the book. “Yeah, sure.”
In a manner of minutes, we were outside, dressed in only flip flops and swimsuits. The air was warm, and the water was guaranteed to be even warmer, I felt a layer of sweat threatening to burst out from under my skin.
We both let out a sigh as we slipped into the water, and the bubbles burst all around; a hot tub without bubbles is just so boring to me. I leaned against the back and slipped in, all the way until my head was under the hot water, then realized that was stupid and shot back up.
“Dammit.” I wiped the water from my eyes to find Oliver smiling, very close to me.
“Hey there.” I said, feeling goosebumps despite the smoldering heat.
“Hey, yourself.” Oliver said. “You know, I wish we had something to drink, or smoke.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I get it. But, you know, maybe we need to do some things…clear headed.”
“Well, I know that’s difficult for you to begin with.” Oliver’s smirk was just too damn adorable. “So, yeah, I can do it too.”
I scooted, or swam, or floated, whatever, something, closer to Oliver, closing the gap between the two of us. There was no heat that could be more tempting, more enjoyable than the heat Oliver was emitting himself.
As I leaned closer, I could see so much. Us at prom, me moving in, thinking I would move away, us at birthday parties, a weird image of him in a Harry Potter robe that I couldn’t quite place, and I also saw the hazy vision of future things we could have together in the future. I couldn’t believe I didn’t realize I was in love with him before this trip.
However, as I leaned closer to him a clear image from behind him sent a bolt of realization through me and made me stop in my tracks.
It was white in the dark, almost like it was emitting its own glow. The hair was black, I couldn’t tell where the shadows of the night began and the hair ended, the eyes were wide and black, dilated to a huge degree, blank and vacant. The only parts that weren’t monochrome of her were her red lips, and the two streaks of dark red starting from her lips and staining her chin.
“Oliver.” I whispered, right in his ear. “Lisa’s here.”
Chapter Text
I leaned back, keeping my eyes on Lisa, but putting Oliver’s face in my view as well.
I could see Oliver’s face, itching to understand what I meant; he was pretty drunk when we first saw her, and it was only an hour or so of them being together, so it was understandable that he didn’t know her off the top of his head. He turned around and I could tell by his jump that he spotted her.
“What the [bleep]!” He hissed out.
Oliver and I backed to the edge that was farthest from her and stared for a while, a while that stretched out for so long, her staring at us unblinkingly.
Then, like a switch had been flipped, she darted down, out of sight, and I could hear a rustling that signified she was running from us, at a speed that was more animalistic than human.
Oliver and I shot out of the hot tub; though it was stupid on hindsight to stop, something in our brains told us to grab the stuff we brought with us, Oliver grabbing our towels and phones, me grabbing all four flip flops.
We made it to the front door too soon to really worry about slipping on the sidewalk or grass, and Oliver opened and shut the door so quickly that it didn’t really make a difference.
“We’ve got to find Marian.” Oliver said and started walking around.
“Calm down.” I turned to look out in the backyard while putting my flip flops on; nothing was there, nothing out of the ordinary at least. “We’ve got intercoms in our rooms to call her, let’s go.”
We ran upstairs, and while Oliver got in touch and alerted Marian, I got me and him some shirts to wear and looked out the window trying to see any sight of her. I couldn’t believe it, she was just a normal, nice girl, nothing odd about her; why would she travel so far and end up on my uncle’s property? And what was that red liquid on her face? I shivered thinking of it.
Marian gave a courtesy knock then opened the door. She was still fully dressed, though her hair was mussed. She was frowning and looking very concerned as she came in, any warmth heating into a boiling rage.
“Alright boys, we have our security checking the parameters, though with this and the tent, I don’t know what good that will do.” Marian seemed to be chewing on her cheek. “We are going to be getting the police involved, so you can rest assured, they should be here within the hour. Anything else you want to tell me about her?”
“Uh, she said she was great-uncle Arthur’s sugar baby.” I answered.
“Well, that seems to check out.” Marian said. “He always felt like a cowboy there. Mr. Otto, do you have anything?”
“She was pushy.” he said, “And she had blood on her face!”
“Yes, that’s very concerning.” Marian said. “I need to advise you not to open your doors. Keep them and your windows locked. I’ll come and get you when the police are here.” Oliver and I nodded. “Okay, well boys I hate to leave you in this state, but I need to make sure all the windows and doors are locked, and you see that is a bitch of a job in a place like this.”
Oliver and I nodded, worried, but a sense of relief, not full relief entered me, and I found it easier to breathe. When she left the room, I felt like it was all going to be past us.
Chapter Text
We both showered, separately, and changed into sleepwear. I was ready for the will to be read and to get out of here, so I can focus on my feelings with Oliver without ghosts, vampire stalker girls, or anything else like that happening.
“You mind if I stay in here?” Oliver asked as we watched a nice, loud, high-energetic 2000s sitcom, the perfect mind-numbing kind of thing for us. “You know, for the night, I think my chances of survival are better if I’m with you. I think I can outrun you in case of a killer.”
“Yeah, sure.” I said, wondering where he was going to choose to lay down at for the night, debating a bit internally as to what I wanted for us. The night before I so desperately wanted to tear down that wall of pillows and kiss him, but we weren’t there yet, a Ouija ghost stopped us. We were so close to kissing tonight, before blood girl had to show up.
The lights were off completely, with only the television’s glow lighting up the room; the curtains were pulled back, though they were a bit thinner than I was used to. The sounds of the house were quiet, I couldn’t hear sobs of servants like I did at home, or the sounds of Mrs. Otto rummaging around to find some chocolate.
“Cooper, I think we need to talk.” Oliver said.
I nodded. “Yeah, is it about…the supernatural?”
Oliver shook his head and I felt my heart get to dangerous levels of beating. I guess we were going to have to tackle this, head on. Parts of me were equally nervous and excited. I couldn’t believe it.
“It’s about, oh God, I don’t even know where to start.” Oliver laughed uncomfortably. “You know, it’s so weird, not weird, but…it didn’t even start until-.”
Oliver’s sentence wouldn’t be finished then, because we had heard a sound rip through the air, loud and shattering. I hadn’t ever heard it in person before, being a rich kid from Connecticut, and at first, I had mistaken it for a car backfiring, or a bottle popping, but realized the truth of it being a gun shot pretty quickly.
A second after the shot rang another, and in the wake of that shot erupted a woman’s scream. It was loud and…bubbly, somehow, as well as sounding absolutely heart-wrenching; sweat instantly began pooling around every crevice, and I felt all the color drop from my head.
The scream only lasted a second before two more shots rang out and she was silenced.
“What was that.” I asked, though it was obvious.
“It had to be…it was probably…it’s…” Oliver began, then his voice drifted off. “Oh, God, Cooper, I think they’re killing people…”
Another gun shot and scream hinted that he was right. I grabbed my phone only to see no service, and a part of me that I didn’t know existed began thinking of what to do.
“We’ve got to get out of here.” I said and began looking around, ignoring Oliver’s shocked face for the moment. Under the bed, or in the closet was stupid, and would only add seconds to life; going out the door would put us in their arms; jumping off the balcony was a steep fall, but it was our best bet.
I ran as quietly as I could to the window, and pushed as hard as I could.
“Oliver, help me.” I whispered. When he still just looked at the door fearfully, I snapped, then whistled, then did both at the same time, which got his attention.
He joined me and we tried futilely to open the balcony door, which became obvious it was impossible for us; I tried my best to ignore the gunshots that seemed to be getting louder, to be getting closer.
I could tell the glass wouldn’t be broken by anything we could get our hands on, they were bulletproof, and somehow the door was locked from the previous night; we were trapped.
“Okay, okay, think…” I tried to think of what I could, of what I knew, of where to go. “We need to go to the bathroom.”
“Already did that.” Oliver whimpered and I felt my heart break, and also realized I was very close myself.
“Come on.” I grabbed his arms, but he stiffened himself, quickly going to grab a couple of things and pushing them in his pocket. I dragged him to the bathroom. I locked both doors once inside and looked around. The bathroom was an ordinary one, a jacuzzi bathtub for four, a walk in shower that could fit sixteen. A mirror above two sinks, a toilet, nothing particularly special about it, nothing that the Otto family didn’t have, except for the addition of a laundry chute, which was going to have to do. It was metallic inside, and I could only hope it would go somewhere safe, away from whoever the hell was doing this.
I looked for anything to use, any weapon. If I broke a mirror, we could use the shards as a knife, but that would bring attention, and be kind of stupid to use a knife in a gunfight. The towel hangers were dull, but they were blunt, but we would also be stupid to use against a gun.
The only other thing I could think of was letting the water get hot and spraying them with it, or on the ground to make them slip, but I wasn’t in a Home Alone movie, so the laundry chute was just all we had to do.
“Okay, we’re going to have to go down it.” I told Oliver, who was working hard to keep his tears in his eyes. “It’ll be fine.”
“No, it won’t. People are dying.” Oliver’s voice broke.
“No, it’s fine, it’s alright.” I put a hand on Oliver’s shoulder and brought him closer to me, trying to give him some comfort, which seemed to have done the job a little, though my pants were now wet too.
I pulled away. “Okay, I’ll go first. If that’s okay, if it’s all good, and clear, I’ll tap on the inside, and you come down, okay?”
Oliver thought about this, his eyes watering, and his chest rising and falling at a rapid pace, then nodded reluctantly.
“Okay, I’ll let you know if it’s okay.” I said, and thinking there may be a gunman down there, leaned in, giving a soft kiss to the top of his head. “I promise.”
I slipped in, feet first, and shot one more glance at Oliver, who grinned hopelessly at me. This was a nightmare, all of a sudden, a normal trip, with some oddities, and now it was a damn nightmare.
“I’ll see you in a second.” Oliver said.
I nodded, took a breath, and slid down.
Chapter Text
I felt like I was making an avalanche of noise as I slid down, the metal very uncomfortable for me, but better than death at least. It wasn’t like a slide, I got stuck and had to push myself to keep going in the oddly formed chute, the metal rough against my skin, and too damn noisy.
I stopped at a door at the end of the corridor. I may have waited for a bit before opening in another scenario, but Oliver was alone in the bathroom, so I forced myself to go through it.
Once through I breathed a sigh of relief, seeing only washers, dryers, and shelves for clothes. The door to the laundry room was thankfully closed, and I shot up to lock it. There was a window there too, one that looked a lot more vulnerable than the one in the bedroom.
I came back and knocked inside of the laundry chute. It had been a bit of a slide down, so I was worried that Oliver wouldn’t hear me. Worse, I was afraid they had gotten up there, gotten to him first. I held a nervous breath as I heard the quiet muffled sounds of somebody coming down, and exhaled gratefully that it was him coming through.
“Remind me when there aren’t gunmen to slide down again.” Oliver said once out, doing his best to smile.
I returned the smile, though I quickly wiped it off and ran towards the window, unlocking it and began pushing. The first push released a screech too loud for comfort; it must have been a while since it had been opened. I tried to think of when I ever opened windows, and found it wasn’t a lot. I never had to sneak out, and with air-conditioning I was always comfortable to keep them closed.
I did my best to open it as quietly as possible, without causing too much noise. I know this wasn’t the greatest plan ever, but it was all we had.
“Cooper, what are we going to do when we get out?” Oliver asked.
“Um…car, can’t do, keys are upstairs, dammit, phones, too spotty, I guess we’re going to climb the gate and get to somewhere with service.” I tried to think. “That, or we sneak back into the chute, hide there until they leave.”
Oliver shook his head. “No, we can’t be sitting ducks. We’ve got to be a little more active than this.”
I nodded and sighed. “Okay, window it is.”
“I’ll go first.” Oliver said, and before I could object, he stood on the shelves, and as quiet as a mouse, slipped out. I heard a small thud when he landed, and smiled when I heard his knuckles tap against the wall.
I stood on the table and hoisted myself to the window; I sat on the edge for a second, seeing Oliver looking at me, and scanning around nervously, only the light of the moon lit him up.
I dropped down and felt the grass beneath my shoes. Around us on the ground was shades of black, with few identifying things. I backed up and looked into the house, seeing narrow beams of lights walking around.
I did notice that there was an abundance of cars, more than there had been when we laid down, a considerable amount of them, all black and plain, without license plates.
I wanted to put the pieces together, or try to, but we had to start going. There was something in me chewing at my insides, reminding me of things. Flashes crossed against my mind, of one I had only seen in my dreams, of a life not my own.
I motioned for Oliver to follow me, and we began moving towards the forest. The grass was thankfully soft, and not laced with shards of grass, or thistles, or beartraps. It would have really sucked if that had happened, because we could not focus on carefulness. We were out of the plain view, into the thick of the trees when I heard the front door open from behind us.
We stopped, and I turned around, and was quite surprised at seeing a group of men and women, draped in black, standing at the front of the property. We could only see their profiles, but they were evident enough that they had no fear or hesitation in any of this. What was really surprising was they had Marian at the lead, holding a gun, looking not shocked or scared of what was happening in the slightest.
Chapter Text
“What the hell is going on?” Oliver whispered his first words since we had left the house; we must have been a mile into the woods and like half an hour had passed. “I mean, my family sucks, but not like this.”
There was complete silence in the woods, and we were having to be very quiet until then, making our darndest not to step on any twigs or leaves, or anything that would crunch beneath our steps and keeping an eye out for anything dangerous. Oliver had grabbed a few things including our phones, and a number of socks, giving us a layer of protection.
“I don’t know…but everything that’s been going on, the ghosts, and Lisa, and my dreams, and the grocery store.”
“What grocery store?” Oliver asked.
“You know, those three in there, those teens.”
“You didn’t tell me this.”
“Yeah, I did, in Texas.” I then remembered how drunk Oliver was, and how he probably didn’t remember. I quickly recanted it to him; about the three strangers and the weird compulsion I had felt not to bring it up.
“Yeah, that definitely has something to do with this.” Oliver said. “And the book, oh God, I don’t want to be with a bunch of fanatics that think this crap is real.”
“Are you saying you still don’t think any of this monster stuff is real?” I asked. “Amigo, I was, like, magically controlled.”
“Cooper, it doesn’t seem that hard to convince you of something, if I’m going to be honest.” Oliver’s voice was a bit light, but I could see he was trying to get focus off of the possibility of magical mind control.
“Dude, it has to be real, there’s too much, we should have paid better attention to it, or done something, or left.”
“I refuse to believe it.” Oliver said. “It’s just an imagination, and a group of killers. That’s all.”
“And what do you think killers want? Killers connected to my great-uncle; a man connected to the military? Where half of the mansion was off the table to visit?”
“Okay, I’ll be willing to admit, that yes, this might have something to do with your uncle’s government connections, but I’m not giving any credit to the idea of it being magical, or mystical, or whatever adjective you want to give this stuff.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“Why should I?” Olier asked. “If there was anything magical, wouldn’t we have heard about it? I mean, you’re rich, you had an iPhone in the womb practically, surely, you’d know about that.”
I considered this. I was rich, and I did know a lot before the main public did, Survivor winners, American Idol winners, Presidential winners. If there was anybody who would know about this stuff it would be my family, and our wealthy friends.
But did I? I mean, if my dreams were anything to go by, I must have known something was up. I didn’t tell Oliver outside of the first, but something was going on, with monsters, or something. I knew it was true, and that it had happened, though I had no way of proving it, and Oliver wasn’t someone to go off of something without seeing it for himself.
A strong smell of citrus hit us first, appearing out of nowhere. Then, we heard a rustling near us that left us frozen and crouching down; it was a gentle rustling, a soft, soothing kind of rustling that would be very nice in an ASMR kind of video. I looked in the direction, falling lower to try and see what it could be.
It was too dark at first, but my eyes adjusted as I focused on the moving figure. A woman, almost gliding through the forest, tall and slender; her arms floated at her sides, elbows near her waist and hands at her shoulder length. Her walk was a carefree graze, like she was a princess at Disney Land, walking through her world, with ease and grace.
Her hair, it was hard to say, but it looked…green to me, a dark, dull green; twigs were tangled in her strands, no not tangled…they were carefully lodged there. A crown of leaves was placed upon her head too, woven carefully within it.
She was wearing leaves, like a skirt of leaves, that fell just above her breasts and below her hips, and I realized her skin…it didn’t look right. I thought of Bizarro when seeing all the lines covering her skin, but the color was dark brown, the color of bark, with deep, dark brown cracks all along her skin. I also noticed her fingers were just twigs sticking out, gnarled and twisted.
“Just a special effect.” Oliver said without prompting. This caused the woman…thing, to turn and look at us with a mask of stoicism. It started grazing towards us, footsteps barely touching the ground, leading us to stand up and go the other way.
“We’re going to be killed by your skepticism.” I panted. We ran, just trying to get away from whatever that was, though the word nymph ran through my mind. I noticed though, that the ground started to seem familiar, and the mansion came into view. “Oh, God, we’re going to the house.”
“Better to die with a bullet than whatever the hell that thing was.” Oliver said. “We’ve just got to get away from that, and figure something out to do.”
Before we could figure anything else, the ground collapsed beneath us.
Chapter Text
My stomach fell as we dropped, but we hit the ground so quickly that it was a very disorientating feeling, not really letting the terror, the shock really set in.
I looked up, seeing the sky through a square hole, only about eight feet up, and I instantly wanted to be back…but to what? A group of mercenaries and a tree ghost? What the hell was happening? I thought I was a normal guy, a week ago things were going great, and now it was all shifting, going crazy.
Before we could discuss what the hell was happening to us, or debate our options, or I could even spare another thought, a loud mechanical sound started creaking above, the hole growing narrow, smaller and smaller until it was gone, leaving us alone again.
I realized as I watched it close, that the moving floor wasn’t dirt or grass, but smooth, leveled metal, caked with grass at the top. I wondered if it looked convincing, probably, knowing the General.
I shook my head. That was not my thought. That was something that Luca would have thought.
I took out my phone and looked around, realizing I was in a hallway, that looked like a janitor’s closet or a supply closet, boxes on shelves all around.
“Curious and curiouser.” Oliver said. “We must have smoked some laced weed or something.”
I sighed as we stood up, and began looking around, primarily for something to protect myself with. “Ese, it’s real, I don’t know what else is going to need to happen.” I started looking through the box, rifling through cleaning supplies.
“Not all that is happening can be real, there’s too damn much going on.” Oliver said. “It has to be some elaborate hoax, or drug-induced dream, or something, it doesn’t make sense.”
“It makes sense to me-.”
“That’s a first.”
“Amigo, monsters are real, that’s it, what else is there, we just saw a wood nymph?” Another thing I shouldn’t have known.
“First of all, I have no idea how you know that. Second, even if that’s true, that doesn’t explain those men, and why they are shooting people.”
I let his comment sit for a second. Were they dead? And I just left them to deal with it? I can’t do anything, sure, but why is this happening, and whose scream, who’s bloody, gurgling scream did I hear? And why am I still alive?
“I don’t know, but it has to be connected, ever since this started, since we met with Ms. Mendez.” I reached and I grabbed a hammer, hoping it would be good enough.
“Okay, let’s try and figure it out then, let’s say monsters are real.” Oliver began, then went onto a spiel about how unlikely it was. Though I loved his voice, I couldn’t focus on it; I loved hearing him talk, maybe not about something like this, still his voice was pleasant, but I caught sight of the door.
The door, a plain gray door, a hook on it for jackets and a doorknob, hinges in the top right corner. There was nothing about this door that should be familiar. It shouldn’t have brought up such a sense of recognition, nor should it have given me a swirling, swelling anxiousness and excitement in my stomach.
“We’ve got to go there.” I walked to the door and put my hand on the knob.
“Uh, Cooper, listen, I know me, my mom, all her friends all kind of call you an idiot, but this would solidify it. We’re not going anywhere.”
“So, staying in this closet is the best thing?” I asked. “Where we’re trapped?”
Oliver looked around, his frown deepening as he looked at it. Oliver let out a defeated sigh and nodded, grabbing a screwdriver and shrugging.
I twisted the knob, and pulled the door, my heartbeat going so fast I definitely needed to get it checked by a doctor when all of this was over with.
The floor was smoother, a bit nicer than the closet, but nothing extravagant, and atop were two rows of large glass walls. Another ring of déjà vu within me went off, the prizes.
“What is this?” Oliver asked, worried. “It’s like a zoo, an aquarium.”
His description was accurate, with different colored lights atop each the ceiling, behind each cage. The first one to our left had a blue light above it, and we stopped to look at it; I noticed there was a box in front of it, like a trunk, that was labeled in case of emergency. I somehow knew not to open it.
Behind the glass, the ground was covered with powder, with snow, and there seemed to be a wind in there that was blurring the powder around at over a hundred miles per hour, like this was all a big snow globe. I could feel cold emitting from it, temperatures low.
Through the swirling flurries, I could see dozens of animals, goats, cows, chickens, laid in front, blood surrounding them, chunks of flesh missing, and hundreds of bones scattered around. Huddled in the corner, sat a bundle of yellowed white fur, covering a creature. It was big and burly, not surprising, eating animals whole it seemed. It had to weigh hundreds of pounds, and be at least ten feet tall.
“Is that a yeti?” The question was stupid, but I had to make sure it was asked.
We stood there looking at this thing that was furthering shattering our world view, for minutes. Then it began to turn, like it had a feeling. Fur hung from the top of its head covering its face, but it opened its mouth, barring its bottom teeth at me, frost coming out of its nose in big huffs.
It sprung up, dropping the chicken it had been chewing, and ran to the glass.
“Oh god.” Oliver said, reaching down to the emergency trunk.
“No!” I said, pulling him back. I was afraid, but I knew this thing wasn’t going to get us.
It slowed as it reached the glass, like it knew it was futile, but it began pounding on it, a scream of pain erupting as it did so; well, its mouth opened, but I couldn’t hear anything from it.
“Let’s keep going.” Oliver said, grabbing me and turning, facing the opposite cage. I looked and saw beneath a pink light, a grass covered floor and leaf-covered wall, and dozens of creatures in there. Some were on the ground, lying still and motionless, scaley skin eroded away revealing technicolor bone, but most of them were flying in the air with delicate wings, throttling themselves at the glass, but meant for Oliver and me, well really me. They were different colors, their hairless, scaly skin that is, some blue, some pink, green, orange, yellow, purple, no two creatures the exact same shade.
Their eyes were big and black, taking up like half of their face, their nostrils were huge and flaring. Ears as wide as their head were on either side of their face. Despite all of their big features, the tallest only seemed six inches. All of them looked angry, furious as they stared at Oliver and me.
I pushed Oliver and we kept walking, being surrounded by things that I had no idea were alive and actually existing.
A heavily bearded man under a red light, naked, muscular, and hairy, almost furry, a chain on his wrists, his ankles, and one around his neck. A tank with aquamarine lighting, a horse of average side, with fins along its back and its front legs, a big aquatic tail replacing the back legs. Under yellow lighting was an eagle, except with a lion body, a griffin, Oliver told me later.
We saw a woman under a rose light, who would be a plain, ordinary, pretty Asian woman if it wasn’t for her neck stretching out yards from her shoulders, circling around the cage. A bird engulfed in orange flames, a phoenix, shining under orange lighting. Ants the size of a dog, desperately digging at the impenetrable ground in a violet-tinted cage. Heads just flying around in a lime-lit room.
Under several rows of teal lighting was a snake, almost as wide as the yeti, and took up the left side of the hall for what seemed like an hour. Looking at it, I realized that it was a lot deeper than the other cages, enough room to turn at least, so it could swim comfortably. At least they didn’t subject this thing to animal abuse.
Smaller creatures, inches tall, were the only ones with multiple creatures inside, some dead. I wondered why that was exactly. Why did smaller creatures, monsters have so many, and why were there dead ones? Did they kill each other? Starve? Aged?
Creatures of all kinds were in this zoo…compound, trophy case thing. As small as ants, as big as buildings, covered in fur or scales or furs, or seeming to have invisible skin, running up and down every color of the rainbow, their origins varying from every continent, something that I knew before Oliver pointed it out.
Another odd thing is despite the gore and creatures surrounding us, it didn’t seem like it almost. There was a sanitary, hospital smell and no noise except for our footsteps and breathing. The glass was stronger than any kind I had ever seen; my home in Westport came with some of the strongest, thickest glass available, and still when Mrs. Otto came by you could still hear her shouts. Not to diminish Mrs. Otto, but I don’t think she could shout louder than that bigfoot creature we had seen.
After we passed the long, water serpent, the hall stopped, with three other directions to go, left, right, and ahead.
“Where do you think we should go?” Oliver asked.
I tried to gauge my vague memories, tried to think what was right. If you were just asking me, Cooper, it would be right ahead, straight on, but there was a thing in my mind that was trying to convince me of left and right, knowing one of them was better, or more accurately, one was worse.
“I don’t know, just give me a second.”
“Sure, while reality is collapsing and falling in on me, fraying each nerve I’ve got. Great time for a break.” Oliver said, his voice strained.
I looked at him and saw tears in his eyes. From some odd-looking streaks on his cheeks, I judged that he had been wiping them away while I was distracted by these creatures.
I was going to let him know that it was alright, that somehow, we were going to make it, though this was out of our depth. I knew Oliver could do anything he set his mind to, and I was great at directions. We were Cooliver dammit!
Sure, we hadn’t faced anything like this before, but we were going to be able to, to be able to stop this and survive and maybe even save the world if so be it. I knew in my heart that this was going to come true, and we were going to accomplish this.
However, before I could voice these opinions, fast paced footsteps appeared out of nowhere, and Oliver and I saw from in front of us was a short man. Bald, completely, like hair was foreign to his species, eyes devoid of any color, a pitch black, like two portals to abyss right on its head, fingertips being replaced with suction cup-like things, and an antenna atop his green head, and a completely alien smell hovering it. The green skin only made it more obvious it was an alien.
It was wearing a robe around its diminutive figure, and was holding a clipboard in its hand, muttering gibberish to itself. The gibbering stopped when it looked up, its already wide eyes growing even wider, and he let out a shriek in a frightened tone.
He reached behind and grabbed a gun from a pocket, and Oliver and I ran to the left hall. I heard little footsteps running behind us, and it gibbered to itself in an angry, panicked kind of tone.
A red beam of light came from the alien’s direction and hit Oliver in the back. Oliver let out a shriek and paused. I stopped and looked at him, trying to see if there was anything wrong. The creature made more noises, then I was hit with a green beam.
It didn’t feel like much to me, and seeing Oliver hit by it I didn’t have the shock that he did, but I felt a little wave in my body, almost like butterflies, times a hundred, like my stomach was punching out through my skin before it went away almost as quickly as it happened. I looked at the alien, frowning, messing with its gun, hitting us with another blast, this time yellow.
Chapter Text
July 12th, 2022
Time had passed when I woke up, but in the dark room it was impossible to tell how much time had passed. I quickly looked and saw Oliver right beside me, stirring in his chair. I breathed a sigh of relief that he was still alive, and nodded that his pants had been changed.
It was only then that I noticed my hands behind me, and that I was sitting in a chair where posture and comfort were not thought of in its designing stage, a hard unbearable plastic. I tried to stand up, then realized that my hands weren’t just behind my back, but tied together, and so were my ankles, to the legs of the chair.
The room was cluttered with lab equipment, tubes and bottles full of chemicals, electric mechanical things lined up on tables, computers old and new, and all random kind of things that looked straight out of a science fiction movie. There was a single light bulb above us, shining on us like an interrogation room. Pale lights of big, clunky computer screens also shone on us, but the most noticeable light in the room was the jar that was glowing bright red. This room was vaguely familiar, less so than the zoo, but some things, especially the jar, were prominent in my mind.
I heard Oliver moan and take in a gasp. I looked at him, his eyes groggy and nervous.
“It’s gonna…we’re gonna…we’re together, at least.” I said, unable to actually say it was going to be bueno.
Oliver mumbled to himself, groggy and disorientated, and I kept talking to him, trying to soothe him the best I could. It seemed to work, as he began blinking and becoming more aware.
“Okay, great, now I’ll be fully aware when they finally do kill me.”
“At least we’re together.” I offered again.
“Yeah, we’ve got that.”
“Well, that’s sweet.” Someone who was neither Oliver nor I said.
I looked around, trying to find the man who had said that, a deep, old voice. I looked at the tables, at the tubes and bottles and computers, and all those gizmos. I strained to look behind me, but simply saw more equipment. I could not see anybody behind me, though, and the voice seemed to be coming right in front of me. Right from that jar, that I realized smelled just like cigars.
“Yes, good job nephew.” The jar, yeah, the jar, a jar, said.
“Huh?” I looked at the jar and noticed a black box on the lid, with holes in it like a speaker.
The jar chuckled, and Oliver and I just sat there (not that we had a choice), and felt our world being completely opened up into this new realm, this one where apparently anything was possible.
“Okay, so you’re Uncle Arthur?” Oliver finally broke the silence, his voice scared and skeptical simultaneously.
“Very clever.” The voice, I guess my uncle, said drolly. “No mystery that’s what got you into Harvard. It wasn’t your breeding, that’s for sure.”
“Okay, lo siento, I’m going to need a little bit of information, because I’m lost.” I tried to see if there was any way to get out of my binds but found them pretty damn tight.
“Oh, Cooper Bradford, don’t you remember all of our time together? Cooper Luca Bradford? Haven’t you wondered why you’ve barely said that name the last few years?”
Luca? Why the hell would that mean anything to me? I tried to think of any significance of Luca.
Then, suddenly it kind of hit me, my mind flooded with all of it. I remembered living with a stepmother, Gretchen working in a store, kids named Kate, Jenna, Sam, dreaming of being a music producer, thinking I was a warlock. A whole other life for a few years, it was hazy outside of that town, I know I did some stuff before then, and I did some stuff afterwards, but my strongest memories were there, in that town, in Millwood.
I remember I did potions, and spells, and I dated Kate, and I was a dick, and I hated Gretchen, so much, and I hurt Cassie and Sam. It wasn’t a great life, nothing compared to my life in Westport, but it was a life. My life. Until one day, when he walked through that door.
I remembered Millwood in a snap, everything up to my uncle, the General, coming into the store. The rest was slowly trickling in. The sudden shock of years of a life hitting me all at once was too much, I couldn’t talk, I could barely breathe, I could only sit, the General’s words barely coming in.
“You don’t remember everything, do you boy?” Arthur asked, in his jar. “That’s good, keep swimming around in your thoughts of that insipid high school, you don’t need to know about those others adventures we shared, when you were my warlock apprentice.”
“What?” Oliver yelled. “Okay, I demand some answers, if I’m being killed, I deserve a Bond explanation for all of this.”
“Well, sure, we can start with some things, seems no harm in that.” Uncle Arthur said. “Let’s start in the late eighteenth century, when God gifted the world its greatest gift, the truest salvation this planet has ever experienced, this land of ours.”
“Oh God.” Oliver groaned. “It’s like a sci-fi version of my dad.?”
“Cute. It’s adorable how your generation takes this country for granted. With your constant bitching and whining and protesting about futile manners. I remember back then when we hosed those dirty bastard hippies down. We should have shot them, castrated them, kept them from infiltrating our systems and breeding.”
“I am not a hippie.” Oliver said, “I am one of the most materialistic person known to man.”
“But no, we went easy on them.” Uncle Arthur continued as if Oliver hadn’t spoken. “They didn’t realize, and neither did those morons fifteen years ago, or you morons of today know, that war is necessary, and war is such a glorious paradox. The blood of our brave men, and women, sure, bathed across the lands of those savages, mixed with their dirty, cowardly, tainted blood. How our sacrifice is needed to help stomp out those bastards, whoever they may be, Russia, China, it’s all the same.”
“This seems xenophobic.” Oliver said.
“Stupid word. War, and death are necessary, pacifistic imbeciles are too ignorant to understand that America is the only true way to freedom, holding onto their outdated beliefs and systems. All of these other countries have tried and failed, and the only ones doing well are those communist leeches.”
“Hey, I agree, I hate giving money to the poor.” Oliver said.
“Could you imagine a world without war? Truly, picture it for just a second.” The General said. “Nothing would ever be done, nothing would ever change, it would all be a faux-saccharine hellscape, everybody’s face slapped with a stupid smile, paranoia and fear boiling underneath. That’s how it was, for four damned decades, us and the Soviets. We lived in constant fear of it all being blow to smithereens, while we tried to pretend to be happy, sitting at home watching Lucy Ricardo, Rob Petrie, the Fonz, Dr. Cliff Huxtable, distracting ourselves with shopping and sitcoms, and anything we could to forget about what was really happening. We should have just nuked the Soviets when we had the chance.”
“Okay, you like war.” Oliver said. “Let’s move on.”
“I can see you fail to understand the importance of war. Let me ask you this, do you agree America is the best?”
“Will saying yes get me out of here?” Oliver asked, his voice angry and scared. “Us, I mean?”
“No, so answer with your truest belief, maybe you can convince me I’m wrong.”
“Well then, no, I don’t, there are tons of places that are just as good as America, in someways better.” Oliver said defiantly. “I don’t know them, I’ve never left this country, but I know that the rest of the world isn’t horrible, like you’re painting it.”
“Name a way that any country is better?”
“Okay…homeless, people going into debt for healthcare, relgious fanaticism…”
“None of these things seem like they concern you.” The General said. “I’ve kept up with you, needed to, it was necessary when keeping up with Cooper. I’ve watched you, listened your complaining, and disinterest in people. No, doesn’t sound like you at all, somebody clawing his way, doing whatever it takes to be one of the elites doesn’t seem like you’d be concerned with healthcare. I remember a little antic you pulled with a food home drive.”
“I’ve mellowed.” Oliver said. “I still think homeless people can help themselves better, but there’s a reason why people from England don’t flock here, or Spain, or Germany, or France, or any western European country. And I don’t hear about other countries getting elementary schools shot up.”
“I didn’t have to deal with that when I was a kid. Neither did my kids, it’s like it’s only something new happening.”
“Yeah, machine guns available at grocery stores for any psychopath to buy.” Oliver said. “And people that won’t ban them.”
“I expected more Alex P. Keaton from you, to be perfectly honest.” The General said, his voice amused.
“Yeah, people have told me that.” Oliver said.
“Huh, Cooper still struggling?” The General asked, my chest was rising and falling, I could hear so much, and see so much, and taste, and smell, and feel. “No bother, you probably don’t understand much of what’s going on. I’ll tell you this Oliver, I don’t think America is up to its full potential either. Of course, I’m not a sadist, I don’t like there being homeless, sick, and poor in this country. It hurts the image, I would want to help them, if I didn’t have to worry about those communists and terrorists attacking us at any moment.”
“Another difference between Alex P. Keaton, I’m not perpetually stuck in the Cold War.” Oliver said. “I’m over your fear of Russia.”
“Do you really think Russia is just another country? Sure, England and Germany may now be isolationist, and mind their own business, but they weren’t always, remember that? And Russia is just waiting for the opportunity to wave their flag over our land. They’ve had a dictator at the helm for the last two decades, the media is silenced, secret prisons are still there, and they’re trying to home in on nearby countries. North Korea kills and turns vegetables out of their traitors. China is keeping people in concentration camps, and sterilize citizens, you don’t think those are things that need to be addressed?”
“You’re picking the most extreme of places for you argument.” Oliver said. “And I’ll say that there are things I hear about forcing Mexican women to have abortions here. And how many bombs of ours have been dropped in the Middle East?”
“Small potatoes, compared to the rest. Those things are necessary, now, in the state of the world like it is, and with me, they won’t be happening anymore, but we’re going to have to agree to disagree about the degree of which America is the best. Now, I’m seeing you’ve probably became aware that the world is a bit more speculative than you had previously known it to be.”
“Yeah, but we can keep it a secret.” Oliver said, “We’re good at that.”
“So are we, which is why so few people truly know, or understand the world we live in. sure, legends of old still persist, you know the basics of vampires and werewolves, you may even hear rumors of some of those new creatures that pop up around, but overall, it’s a pretty tight ship we run. There’s so many different things really, not just one set of rules, one set of mythology; its all so complicated, and so strong, just a force of nature as a whole, unpredictable and wild. Creatures that could take down whole armies in just one attack, if they weren’t so stupid. If it weren’t for them, America could already have taken over, but instead we have to focus on our domestic issues so much, that and the imbeciles that ruin this country in their moronic domestic ways.”
“As you may have figured, we have known of this issue for quite a while, really. Those that are intelligent enough want to remain in shadows, and those stupid, animalistic creatures, that don’t care about exposure have nearly driven themselves into extinction. Since the dawn of time there have been groups of ordinary men like us trying to take down those forces, or even control them.”
“Tons of societies doing what they can to protect their people, their sick and old, their women and children. From simple things like grabbing guns and going into the forest, to creating laboratories and experiments to try and stop them. There were dozens of these organizations here when we were just colonies, but we soon got them folded into a faction, an official, government-sanctioned sector to deal with them.”
“I am proud to say my father, Cooper, your great-grandfather, and his generation were the first ones to bring in the witches and the warlocks, the sorcerers and the wizards, those ordinary humans, a bit enchanted though into the mix, officially that is. We’ve been using charms and enchantments from them for centuries, especially from your teachers, do you remember them yet? They’re a largely untrustworthy lot of folks, but there were some gems that proved they were helpful to the cause, believed in it even. They have given us some info, some are more drawn into what is happening, in tune with nature or some crap, I myself have no idea, some that have proved helpful in stopping huge attacks before they took place, kept America afloat and healthy, kept our children resting easy, and those creatures in the shadows.”
“We’ve recently had a new bout of information, that came in about a few years ago, but it’s proved itself too big for the US to stop, for us to control. There is no magic, no science, nothing we can do to prevent this from happening. You see, an intelligent and powerful force, an angel if you can believe it, is causing something unprecedented before, acting against all predicted patterns and is changing the very course of nature, removing death.”
Chapter Text
Death? I wondered. Removing it, like permanently? How can that happen? And isn’t that a good thing?
“You’ve heard his war fanaticism, he’s a violent freak.” Oliver said. “He’s a brain in a jar, for crying out loud!”
“Just a soul, really.” Uncle Arthur said. “And well, it’s not permeant, it will only last four years, four years without death. And not death really, sorry if I misspoke, murder specifically.”
“Murder is bad!” Oliver screamed. “Even your glorious war is just murder, so why not just wait until that goes into effect and let us live?”
“Yes, yes, sure, murder is bad, but it’s stricter than murder. Anybody causing death to another will be impossible, no matter the circumstances. Now, already this is a foolish, stupid idea when you think about it. People will be mangled after surviving car wrecks, in pain for the rest of their lives. The same is true with any patients whose plug needs to be pulled, forced to live until nature decides, not even able to kill themselves. People will be forced to see their family as vegetables, never in relief. The sources say the brains and nature will rewrite it so nobody truly questions what’s happening, so they’ll be blind to the effects.”
“Criminals won’t be able to be punished, abortions will be obsolete for the next term, impossible to perform, forcing ill-fitted women with birth. You know, even if the baby is unable to survive, or the mother, the doctor won’t be able to do anything, one, perhaps both will be doomed to die that day. Do you like that, does that sound like the world you want?”
“No.” Oliver said. “I guess not.”
“No, of course not, because you have a heart. That angel has no idea what life is, how blissful death can be for those unfortunate enough to be stuck in pain. It has a kindergartener’s morality, no nuance at all.”
“And the other thing, those creatures, the ones with impossible power will be able to harm us as much as they want to. Imagine leaving Westport’s hospital, your sister, Taylor, right? Taylor covered in burns, brain-dead after a car wreck, going on her third month in the hospital bed, your mother never getting that closure, and when your mother leaves the hospital, a werewolf mauls her. Or a golem, or a fairy, or a hydra, anything under the sun will be able to mutilate, murder, burn, rape, whatever they want to do. Yes, they’ve always been able to do that, but thare conservative with their kills, only doing what won’t be noticed. With death becoming so limited, they’ll clear the herd, they’ll try to even the scales. Yes, the Ted Bundy of the twenties won’t be able to kill sorority sisters, but as soon as you know it there will be a demon in that house making it appear to be a mass suicide. No John Wayne Gacy to kidnap and butcher those boys, but zombies will be doing that job. All the death will still be there, and the world will become delusional into accepting those, that it’s a part of life, and those creatures help keep the illusion alive.”
“Luckily, we’ve been able to harness some powers, with help that is, you, Luca being essential.”
“How?” Oliver asked, as the answer became clear in my mind.
“There’s an old spell, made for those who needed to be in two places at once, both would be less than a whole, and it wasn’t meant for long term use, a couple of hours really before the copy dissipates. But with some charming and enchantments, and some good old American science, we made it work phenomenally. Others, like me, have family members, ones that they view as expendable, and they had already offered their members up when my turn came along. When I first met Cooper, I knew immediately he was my family member I could sacrifice. Despite Vicki’s promiscuity and Gabriel’s bleeding heart, the two were much too bright to put to that fate, so I got to work on Luca.”
“It wasn’t hard, Cooper’s a pretty heavy sleeper, and God knows his parents didn’t pay attention. One of our wizards slipped in, performed the spell, and we left with Luca, leaving Cooper in the bed. We kept Luca sedated for a few months, plugging him with memories, finding one of our scientists to pretend to be his stepmother. He wasn’t the first, nor the last, you may remember others where you were from. Millwood, North Carolina, simple little town with nothing going on, easy to control. Let’s see, there was Brayden, Eli, Scott, Julian; some we had started early, having created those copies as soon as they took their first steps. Luca, I didn’t get him started until freshman year. He blended in well enough, I let him get socialization in and let the world hurt him. It was amazing Oliver, there were so few that were as misanthropic as he was. Shocking, isn’t it? Cooper? Almost can’t believe it, can you?”
“Well, after letting him spend a year stewing in that town, it’s important to give him some semblance of a life, I brought him into the folds, began training him, allowing the teachers to show him how to properly use magic. Magic, that was Luca’s specialty, the other clones had their own talents and interests, but obviously Luca’s was the most fit for survival in this field. Despite trying to plant clues to cultivate their interest in magic, Luca was the only one that bit, probably because we gave him so little socialization time. The others had friends to guide them elsewhere, Luca didn’t. You take the billions away from the boy, you aren’t left with much. He lived the longest though, you know. The others died in their searching and collecting, not my Luca. I had him for a few years, up until this May, helping me capture monsters. Do you remember how we collected them?”
I did, but I couldn’t say. I was too weak to speak, and I knew I wasn’t going to say anything like that, I knew something else to say.
“We collected them, paralyzed them, then, for efficient traveling, we had to have them shrunken and put them into cubes. Then we’d have them moved up here, for further examination. Oh, Cooper was wonderful, he could do it with such ease, there was nobody like him. With a bit of a sadistic lean, luckily, he never did anything too wild. Alas, his time was coming, he was going to expire at any moment, chip away until he was nothing but dust, so I had to shoot him, just a few months ago. Never suspected it was coming, or at least didn’t at that moment. I mourned for a minute or two, but it was necessary, besides he wasn’t really dead, nobody, his essence was remerged back into Cooper. Luca had already done all of his job, already helped me with my goal, there was no more creatures to capture. We had all we needed for the suit.”
“What suit, you’re a jar?” Oliver asked.
“An enchantment suit. You see, it has been something of a pet project of mine for decades, something that is going to change the world. It cost bill-trillions, but it is going to be wonderful, all I need is the full moon. You see, it will be equipped with all of the strengths of the creatures, a few of the weaknesses, yes, but nothing is perfect. We’ve had suits that could mimic vampires, werewolves, hybrids of up to sixteen creatures, but never, ever, anything like this. Can’t you imagine it? The agility of mermaids, the flexibility of Skinwalkers, the strength of giants. Oh goodness, it’s going to be wonderful, a completely robotic suit, just waiting for a soul to be placed in it.”
“Yours?” Oliver said. “And you’ll have to wait until the full moon?”
“Yes, it’s going to be a supermoon, a buck supermoon, cute, fitting for me. We’ll have four years to create others, create more, but once the soul is put into it, I’ll be able to spread and expand America. To those backwards schlubs in the forests, to those oligarchs in the castles, those communists in red. All will be under a star and stripe flag soon enough, oh I can hardly wait!”
“So, one suit is going to do all of that?” Oliver asked. “You’re going to singlehandedly take over the world with it?”
“Just one suit to test it, we’ll use those tribes still untouched by civilization to test out the kinks, colonize them, and then replicate it, test out the kinks, some more, keep it stealth for a while. South America should be easy to take over, I suspect by the end of summer, if not July, really.”
“Why, you’re doing all of this just so you can become a king?” Oliver asked. “Can’t you just buy a country?”
“Oh, you moron. It’s not for me, it’s for America you child. Not only do I want to expand our beautiful country, give everybody the grace of living in America, to experience the land of Hollywood and Broadway and DC. There will be no more immigration detention camps, because they’ll be Americans. No more concentration camps, or internment camps, no more secret, shady prisons. It will all be out in public, one where we all get to live the same way, under the same ruler, which, yes, will be me for a while, but it’s more important to spread America, it’s not only wonderful for all those involved, but necessary.”
“How?” asked Oliver, and I was so glad he was keeping him talking, I was so close. “Why?”
“You know that little cretin that took you down, made you fall and drop your hammer and screwdriver? That’s the kind of thing we’re doing this for; there’s thousands, maybe millions of worlds, planets full of those aliens that could take us down with a snap. Covered in technology beyond our greatest imaginations, where a nuclear warhead can be healed as quickly as a papercut. We’ve been lucky so far, just some that have a taste for cows and pranking country hicks have been here. Once a malevolent alien army reaches the speed to get us, we’ll be doomed. They don’t have petty squabbles separating them into countries and territories, they’re all ruled by one empire, or kingdom, or whatever they want to label it, that’s beside the point; they don’t have the illusion of individuality. Earth needs to get with the program, and who else besides America should take the reign?”
“Another thing is magic, a unique property only found on Earth, at least in this universe. This is both a strength, our only true defense, and a target on our backs for those that want to take it and spread it.” The General said. “Magic can do all they can do, without all of the hard work, a short cut, one that doesn’t have to pay attention to those pesky laws of physics, or reality. It is truly the most magical place in the universe.”
“What about our allies, or our enemies?” Oliver asked. “You’re willing to take out England, NATO, the UN, all of those that our friends, and betray that? Don’t you think that’ll screw us in the end.”
“It will be slow, just for a bit, but none of them will notice us taking over South America, really, and they’ll be thankful to us for taking out China, and Russia, and North Korea, they’ll practically be begging to join. Not like they’ll have a choice, I mean, these suits will be able to withstand the strongest nuclear warheads we’ve could find.”
“And our enemies, as you call them?” Oliver asked. “They have nukes, they’ll be able to get us, won’t they?”
“They may nuke our civilians, sure, but some will survive, and by the end all civilians will be ours.”
“And what if another Boston Tea Party happens?” Oliver asked. “What if another revolution commences, and you just threw us into more chaos.”
“The Brits didn’t keep an eye on what was happening, they were too lenient, thankfully since we wouldn’t be formed without that foresight. They were too pleasant, the same as the Allies to the Central Powers. We will be strict, they won’t be able to rise up, they won’t be able to meet and talk that nonsense to one another, not that they’ll want to, but just to make sure suits will walk the streets and monitor.”
“A core foundation is freedom of speech.” Oliver said. “That isn’t even America, what you’re talking about, not in the slightest, you’re doing exactly what you hate.”
“Only temporarily, when our first extra-terrestrial army attacks, any hatred or distrust towards the government will fade. We’ll be heroes, we’ll be saviors, it’ll be World War Two again, propelling us into an era of peace and prosperity. Then we’ll be able to have free speech, right to protest and to assembly, within reason, of course.”
Oliver didn’t have anything else to say, but was moving his mouth, trying to find something.
“You know, if you would have finished my book, you could have saved me a ton of time, if you would make it past the encyclopedia section, you would have come to it.”
“That was your manifesto?” Oliver asked.
“Yes. Has such a nasty association nowadays, but still necessary.” The General said. “Needed to make it clear to my supporters.”
“Why are you telling us this? Why didn’t you just kill us? Like you did your sister?” Oliver spat out.
“That was unfortunate, I will admit. You may think I am a monster, racist, sexist, homophobic. I was, I did use to hate them, the gays, I’ve always considered myself a friend to the races. I’m not entirely up to date on progressivity, but Jillian’s death has nothing to do with her gayness. It was just time for her to die, she’s not made for all of this, for this new world, and doesn’t deserve to see the momentary violence this world will occur. Vicki and Gabriel, I just didn’t like.”
“They had families, you, you were their family, and you killed them!” Oliver yelled.
“And I loved them, to an extent, but Vicki wasted her talents by being on her knees, and Gabriel was too much of a bleeding heart. And don’t worry about Jillian’s family, I already have people on them, she won’t have any mourners.”
“As for you two, I don’t have any intention on killing you, and I haven’t either, I need you two, I want you alive.”
“Well, that’s weird, considering you sicced guards on us, and that…tree thing.” Oliver said.
“Tree-thing? Hmmm, but, the guards were meant to collect you. We slipped your food, intended to paralyze you and bring you here, I don’t know why, but it didn’t take. It did keep your temperature on level though to come down here, though, otherwise the extreme temperature would have killed you.”
“Why are we alive?” Oliver asked. “We’ll happily help you in anyway we can.”
“I doubt that, honestly, you two are too, goodie-goodie. I need a little spice. But you are alive; I am an old man, but I was remarkably healthy at the time of my alleged passing. It was a soul extraction technique, I was merely put into the jar, and had my body frozen on ice, ready for future use. I’ll be ready to prance in my body for presidential duties when they come. The cubes all contained those we had captured, and we figured this funeral would be the good excuse to drive you scavengers, you loser relatives towards us and bring our subjects. There were some that didn’t come, couldn’t be bothered to stop at all those places. I knew you, Cooper, of course would be dying to try and impress one relative.”
“As I haven’t really died, it’s only necessary to put those that think I have out of commission, so goodbye to the rest. I was always going to keep you alive, Cooper; Luca had proved too powerful and special. Not to mention handsome, and when I was in control of his training, fit and muscular. You, Oliver, I was pretty impressed by what I had seen, magnificent, tight little body you have, handsome face, and decided you would be a good addition. I’ll put your two souls in a jar, together of course, and use your bodies. My life will be extended so much to the future, and I’ll be able to carry out more terms with your bodies, I promise I’m not greedy, just those three lifetimes then I’ll be done.”
“So, you’re going to keep us locked up, in a jar?” Oliver asked. “Imprisoned until our bodies…expire?”
“Yes, but I’m not cruel, I’ll add in a potion to keep you two entertained. This will all just seem like a dream, and you’ll continue with whatever you were doing in your life, dreams of your romance, and Harvard, and all that fluff still going on.”
“People will know we’re missing.” Oliver said. “My mom will come here, she’ll find this out.”
“Oh please, your mom is a fat bitch, she’ll be panting on her way to the car, and if she raises a fuss we’ll do what we’ve done to Beverly. Alright, well that’s about it, I think.” Uncle Arthur said. “I think that should suffice for all questions. Anymore words?”
“Yeah, um, canite in inanimatis.” I said and felt a bolt of energy shooting from my hands, and bright white-yellow light enveloping the room along with a heat. In the blinding light I heard objects ripping, tearing, blowing up and I felt incredibly nervous.
Chapter Text
The light consumed the whole room, a humming drone going through the whole room. It only lasted seconds, but it all felt slow-motion. When the light faded into darkness, I moved my now free hands and looked around.
It was a spell; one I knew wasn’t lethal. It was to break everything not living in a room, not destroy completely, just rip it. I looked down, seeing the broken chair and rope, as well as my clothes torn to shreds. Computers, lab equipment, furniture, all were shredded, broken.
I looked at Oliver whose mouth was wide open and was looking like the world had just been destroyed. In an effect it had been, but we couldn’t really focus on that, not right now.
I looked at my uncle’s jar, still intact, though the speaker was busted; it must have been enchanted to be stronger than my spells, or counted because he was alive. He was still an active threat, not to mention the US army as well apparently.
“Let’s go.” I said and grabbed Oliver’s wrist.
“Okay, that was awesome what you did, by the way.” Oliver said. “But I don’t know exactly what we’re doing. Where can we go if the entire US military, government, whatever is after us?”
“We’ll figure that out, after we get to town.” I said, and patted my pocket for my phone, sighing when I realized it was in pieces.
“Great, and you can do that some more, right?”
“Um…” I thought. “Maybe, but I do know the way to go.”
“Well, better than nothing, I guess.” Oliver said.
I led Oliver to the door, busted in half, with a hole large enough for us to get out. We walked into the hall, blank and plain, concrete ceiling, floor, and walls, the broken door just one of many others, the same if it wasn’t for it being broken.
We weren’t quite near the trophy case, the collection, a few floors under it. I remembered going there by stairs, travelling up. I remembered the code, judging by what was happening, The General didn’t plan on me being able to bust out and go, so I assumed the code was the same, and if it wasn’t, I knew a spell to use.
Oliver’s hand slipped from my wrist, and moved to my fingers, so our hands interlocked together as I guided him through, taking just a moment of bliss to feel his hand. I was trying to focus on the spells; they were in Latin, the teachers taught that, calling it the purest connection.
I felt a pit in my stomach, remembering everything I had done as Luca, all these creatures I had captured. Yes, some were homicidal maniacs, but for the most part they were minding their business, following their nature, and I captured them for dissection and torture.
I remembered what Luca wanted. No, what I did, we were the same. I just wanted to see people in pain, watch their lives be destroyed, I was a sadist, I was a monster. I wanted to watch people’s lives be destroyed for the hell of it. That was what The General had promised me after I had captured the monsters.
I shook my head. I deserved this, I deserved to be just a puppet for the General, for my identity to be used. I didn’t deserve to live. After what I did, what I wanted to do, and for what? Because some people at high school were annoying to me? And they didn’t even do anything, nothing that deserved me to steal from them and to send them to jail, I was the villain of the story then and I only grew when I was under the General’s wing. I didn’t deserve salvation.
I was ready to stop, put my hands above my head and let them take me. When I reached to do that though, I felt Oliver’s hand, and was reminded that he was completely innocent in all of this. I had to get him home, somewhere safe, all of the Ottos, and Trip, and Franklin, and Lonnie. I probably won’t save the world, and I may not have been able to save my family, but I was going to save the Otto family.
I kept pulling him, going closer and closer to the staircase, trying to remember an invisibility spell, there were bound to be guards coming by any second, and with my magic and memories back, the General wasn’t likely to let me be able to speak again. If only I could remember, my memories were mostly back, but that wasn’t saying much, I was horrible at remembering things.
We reached the hall, finally, the staircase in sight, hundreds of yards away. Oliver and I jogged towards it, though I knew this was only the first of three floors to pass through. It wouldn’t have done much to mention that to Oliver, he was already pessimistic enough as is.
We were so close to the stairway when I smelled an earthy musk wafting from behind us. The smell hit me before the sound of stumps clomping on the ground, hurtling towards us, and the memory hit me.
I turned quickly, seeing a gang of dozen big, bulky men approaching us, but realized soon they were not normal, their skin not flesh, not human, created by humans for centuries. They were big creatures, lumpy, made of earth, of clay, of mud, golems. Despite their soft formations I knew their strength, and their speed, and their determination to get to us. I also knew that if they were being sent, this wasn’t just a capturing mission. They wouldn’t risk it with golems.
“A golem?” Oliver’s voice was a whisper, panting as we picked up our speed to run. I nodded. This wouldn’t be too hard for a warlock, if I could remember anything about it.
I tried to think, all I would need to do is change the writing on its head, or in its mouth, depending on the specific kind.
“That doesn’t sound too hard.” Oliver said. “Can’t you do a spell, paper gone? Writing gone?”
“It would be mixing Latin and Hebrew, and I am so far confused, amigo.”
“We don’t need another language, dude.” Oliver said.
I kept my eyes on them, they were quickly approaching us, another twenty seconds and they would be there.
“I can’t even begin to try that; I can’t see well enough to see if there are markings on their forehead.” I thought, hard. “You could try and take it off of them yourself.”
“No.” Oliver said.
I just needed to get to it, to get there, and grab the head, for only a few seconds, if only there weren’t hulking hands ready to crush me right below. The thought hit me; that could work, if I knew the words.
“Okay, I got something.” I announced. “We’ve got to get closer to them.”
“Bad, bad idea.” Oliver panted.
“No, I got it, I think.” I looked at Oliver, whose face was nervous, but I could tell he was willing. “Okay, we’ve got it, let’s go, erase the third letter thing.”
We turned; maybe the idea was to run towards it, but they were already upon us just ten feet away. I took in a deep breath and held my hands up, palms facing the golems.
“Capita lutum cadunt.” I said as loudly as I could offer and saw strings of light emitting from my palms. They came out in waves, sharp, quick waves, each heading towards the golems.
I could feel a clay hand brush against my hair, the beginning of a grasp taking form just as the light went and made contact with the creature’s neck. The light passed through in a clean swipe, slicing through the golem’s neck. The next move it made towards me, the head fell off, dropping to the ground with a clunk.
The golem raised his hands, trying to find the head. I looked, lights hitting the other golems, causing all them to stumble and pause as they tried to look for their brains.
I ducked down, grabbing the head, feeling dirt beginning to cake my hands. I twisted it around looking for what was the closest to being its forehead, and roughly rubbed my hand against the third marking, the one that almost looked like an x, the א, an aleph.
“Just like that.” I told Oliver. “You’ve got to get rid of the third marking, and only that.”
“Why don’t we just leave?” Oliver asked.
“Somebody will have to come and fix them, that’ll give us some time; if not, they can just put any head on and keep going.”
We made quick work of it, there were a dozen golems around us, and my hands felt in need of a scrubbing and manicure, but I did have higher priorities.
“Come on, let’s go.” I told Oliver, and we went through the staircase.
It was as simple as any staircase, but unlike others that went up from top to bottom, this only went to the next floor.
“We’re going to have go across the whole length again?” Oliver asked, figuring this out without me even having to say anything.
I nodded. “Yeah. I’m sorry, Oliver, I wish I knew more.”
“Believe me, you’re doing good enough.” Oliver said.
I opened the door, it didn’t have a code, that would only be on the one that would lead us to the surface, and we walked in.
Unlike the previous floor, which had dim lighting from overhead, this one was completely dark, a black that was unnatural, and only broken up by keeping the door open.
“You don’t have a light, or anything, do you?” Oliver asked. “Like…like a…”
“A spell?”
“I just can’t believe it.” Oliver said.
I chuckled. “I can’t do something that would go on that long, I think we’re going to have to go ahead, in the dark.”
I didn’t also want to mention to Oliver that I was too tired to do anything else for now. I was so rusty, so out of shape, it was almost too much to be standing there.
“Just hold onto me.” Oliver offered. “I’ve been told I’ve got good direction.”
I nodded. Even though I was hiding it, Oliver knew me, better than anybody, except for the monstrous decisions I’ve done before as Luca. I couldn’t even begin to fathom how he would look at me when he found all of that out about me.
“You know…” Oliver began, then fell into a silence. He was trying to find some words. “I’m not really a good person.”
“What?” I asked. “Oliver that’s crazy, you’re amazing, I mean, your smart, your charming, your funny, your cute.”
“I know, I’m amazingly talented, and obviously better than my family.” Oliver offered a weak chuckle. “But you know, I am a bad person. You know, I do a lot of bad things. I’m selfish, I’m rude, I’m argumentative.”
“You’re not that bad.”
“Yeah, I am.” Oliver squeezed my hand. “But you know, you’re always supporting me, you don’t care how crappy of a guy I am.”
“Well of course, Oliver, we’re best friends.”
“We are. And I would never look at you different, no matter what’s happened, not after how you accept me. You know that, right?”
I swallowed. “Uh, yeah.” He may say that now, but when he finds the actual truth, he won’t want anything to do with me.
We walked through the hall, keeping one hand on the wall as we walked, feeling the doors. Oliver and I didn’t talk for a while, our nerves coming back in force as we walked through the dark. Anything could be there, anything and we would be powerless about it. I needed to shine a light, but I was too weak. I still can’t believe that this has happened. Maybe it was shock how I was handling it all so well, but I can’t believe that all of this was real, and that I had been split in two, and now I have to save Oliver and me.
We walked, and from my estimation, we were pretty close to the other side, and without any trouble, or any golems following us. This didn’t make much sense though. Why were there golems there? They were used, but not frequently, androids being more sufficient, and they wouldn’t have been used in something like this when they already had all those guys shooting my family. Where were they?
I knew there was something going on, but I was brought out of my thoughts when I felt something sturdy and hard in front of me. I felt it with my hand, and felt some softness, some flesh to it, then heard a hiss.
I looked, trying my hardest to see in the dark, but couldn’t see anything but blackness. Actually, no, right in front of me there were dozens of white little spots, scattered and small, and all over, making little pins of lights. I could see in the mass of the spots I could see two circles, lighter than the blackness of the floor, a gray.
Then it hit me, a dökkálfar.
“What?” Oliver asked, his voice jumping and panicky. “Please tell me that was just you coughing or attempting Spanish.”
“It’s like an elf, or a dwarf.” I looked around the room, now that I knew what I was looking at.
“Well, can they really do anything? Do they have powers, or something?”
I looked, seeing thousands of white lights, freckles, showing there were at least dozens of them facing us.
“One, not much in our situation. The amounts of the ones we’re looking at though…” It would be easy to take us, these guys could just rip us apart.
“What do we do?” Oliver tried not to let it on that he was panicking, but it was obvious from his voice.
“I think we can, we can just, make light.” We were close enough that it wouldn’t be too hard, and I knew the spell.
I placed my hands up again. “Illumina…” I began, but then felt weak, and found myself clutching my stomach.
“What’s wrong?” Oliver asked.
“I don’t have the energy.” I grumbled as I fell to the ground.
It’s murky, on which creatures are intelligent, which are animalistic, which ones know and don’t, but it seemed that the dökkálfar knew what I was saying well enough because they began to pounce on Oliver and me.
I felt small, moist hands squeezing me, my arms, my legs, my throat, their touches icy, but once their hands left, my skin was burning in those spots. I tried to think back to what they would want to do to me, what they would want, but all I could think of was they were wanting to rip me right open, like they were doing even further to my clothes. I could hear they were snarling now and felt drool falling onto me, coating my uncovered skin.
The world started to get darker than it already was, my head dizzier, my stomach queasier. It was all getting quieter too, I could barely even feel the sticky spit on me anymore.
I could hear one thing though, Oliver’s high pitch scream erupting from beside me, and I knew I couldn’t stop now.
I opened my hands, the widest they could, and sucked in a breath and with all my energy screamed, “Illuminabant!”
Light poured from all around, and I saw the creatures, their solid black, scaley skin, their tangled dark hair, their gray eyes squinting as they hissed. I looked at myself, very little covered up now, the clothes mostly shredded now. Out of my palms, and the soles of my feet, yellow-white light poured out from them, the creatures having let go of me, scattering away.
I fell to the ground, but quickly stood up. I felt tired, like I wanted to pass out, or just plain die. But I couldn’t, not with those things running off with Oliver. On exhausted legs I began running to them as fast I could, each footstep feeling like a stab at my soles.
Oliver looked like he was crowd-surfing in a concert, the creatures passing him, pushing him from the light. I don’t even remember passing one of these along to the General, I guess I must have pissed them off, but Oliver hadn’t done anything to deserve this.
I picked up speed, trying to think of something to get Oliver in my hands and away from there, but I couldn’t say another spell at all, I couldn’t say anything, and I only had a minute at most with the light.
The horde slowed, stalled, like traffic after I wreck, and I could barely see Oliver thrashing at the end. I was right there, right at them and I grabbed one.
The elf screamed in agonizing pain and fell to the ground. I looked at it, as it began writing, the spot it was touched spilling out steam.
“Give him back to me or you’re all gonna be like him!” I yelled. Most of the group turned to me, their eyes squinted in a glare, mouths formed into growls, but they were pausing.
I shook my head. I didn’t want to hurt them, not really, but I couldn’t just let Oliver get killed for my sins.
I jumped up and landed on one of the creature’s backs. He began howling, steam blasting out of its skin as I hopped on it. I jumped again, finding another, then another, sending them down, writhing in pain, their scream rattling in my ears.
I looked at them, and they began hissing at me, but I could see Oliver being pushed back towards me, almost nude, hair messy and in every direction, tears down his cheeks. They threw him on the ground, next to their others. Unlike them, Oliver shot himself up, and grabbed onto me, running, dragging me with him.
“Careful with the lights.” I mumbled.
“It’s okay.” Oliver said. “It feels fine, it’s nice.”
We made it to the other side, and burst through the door, back in a stairwell, with one more floor to go.
Chapter Text
Oliver drug me through the floor, all my energy depleted, and feeling my eyelids getting heavy.
“It’s okay, Cooper, it’s alright.” Oliver said. “Just rest, rest, and if we see anything else here kick its ass but rest, take a break, relax, please, please, just relax.”
I moaned an affirmation. Oliver was also struggling, and we were going slower than I would have liked. I can’t believe I was being such a liability to Oliver. It was all my fault this was happening, I was going to get us killed, maimed, tortured, and mutilated, and forced to be The General’s puppets.
“Cooper, you were so good, taking those things down.” Oliver said. “I’ve never been so impressed. I’m so, so lucky to have you here.”
I let a laugh out, but then groaned in pain. I thought back, I was so rusty, and my body, my Cooper body wasn’t used to this discharging of energy, and I had only done three spells.
“Cooper, if we don’t make it out.” Oliver began, and I could hear his voice breaking. “If we don’t make it out of here…I want you to know you are the best friend I’ve ever had. That I ever could have had. I’d be your best friend no matter what, even if you were poor. None of this is your fault either, you know. Not since we got here, and not whatever happened when you were with the General, you were manipulated. I know it, Cooper you’re one of, no you’re the sweetest person ever, I love you…dude.”
Oliver stopped, putting his face into my hair, sniffling, but still walking, still dragging me. I couldn’t talk, I could only let out a moan that I hoped conveyed I was thankful, so thankful for his help, and his friendship.
Oliver’s panting, growing heavier with each step was the only thing that let me know we were moving. I kept my eyes closed on the verge of sleep. Oh God, I wanted to dormir, and maybe just die.
Oliver carried me, drug me to the other side the best he could, panting the whole time. If we survived, I promised I was going to work out three hours a day until I was light as a feather in case something like this happened again.
I needed training, hard, strict training. I can see why I was separated; Luca was used to hard work, I sure wasn’t. Not only did I need physical training, but I also needed magical training as well. It was a secret, but anybody could do magic. Some were better than others, some had an innate spiritual connection, or a bloodline that would benefit them, but really everybody could if they had dedication and the knowledge. Or at least that’s what the teachers had told me.
Did they know The General’s plans when I passed them in the hall? And where were they? I knew they were in this, somewhat tangled into the General’s plans. What did they have to gain from the General’s Americanization of the world? Of a country they were older than?
I pondered these thoughts, listening to Oliver’s pants, until he stopped in place.
“Oh God, Cooper, can you tell me what that is?”
It took so much strength, but I opened my eyes. In front of me was a black creature, a horse, with a man of the top. My eyes widened as I realized that the man atop the stallion had no legs, and his head was far too big.
I looked at the horse’s head, its mouth open wide, a putrid scent of death escaping from the orifice, causing me to retch, with two red eyes glaring at me. There was no skin of the horse, its black organs and muscles on full display, pulsing and beating in front of me. I already knew it, but looked to confirm, the man atop was limp, and fused into the nuckelavee.
“Oh, God.” I tried to stand to run, but I still couldn’t manage the strength to stand, forcing me to lean onto Oliver, who was backing away from the thing.
“Cooper, no pressure, but can you say anything, you know to save us? I’d much rather have been killed by the golem if I’m being honest.”
I opened my hands and let out a weak “Agua.” Nothing happened though, it was too weak, and it already is pretty hard to conjure matter.
“Agua?” Oliver asked. “Agua, water, right, yeah, okay, just stay alive, I’ve got it.”
Oliver dropped me, and I came to the ground with a thud. I heard his footsteps and pants, fast and going away from me. I peeked an eye open and looked at the nuckalavee, its gait slow and meticulous. It was a cruel being, bringing death and disaster to it, but like many creatures from the time, it had a simple weakness, freshwater. Splashing it with some was enough to confuse it, and it couldn’t cross a stream of water. I could maybe conjure a river in other degrees, but with how it was now it seemed like no matter how much Oliver splashed it, it would be getting to us.
Footsteps that had disappeared reemerged, with a weird pattern to them. I turned a little, each inch feeling like a mile being run as I turned, seeing Oliver holding a toilet lid in his hands, it was upside down, full of water, and he was running his best to keep it from splashing out.
Oliver reached me and bent down. “Think light thoughts, I’ll be right back, Cooper.”
I looked, each craning of my neck hurting, agonizing, but I was so impressed with Oliver standing there bravely, facing the galloping nuckalavee. Just as it was feet away from us, Oliver thrusted the water at the face of the horse. It let out a neigh, a neigh that reverbed with the sound of dozens of voices screeching in pain at the same time, deep, raspy, high, all kinds of pained, angry screams. I would laugh if I had the energy as Oliver tossed the lid at the beast, stunning it further.
I felt Oliver’s hands again, hoisting me up, carrying me like I was a bride as he ran to the other end, passing the shrieking beast. It was useless though, the creature was a horse, it was going to get us in seconds just as soon as it composed itself.
“Don’t worry, Cooper, it’s not going to chase us for long.” Oliver breathed out.
I felt an eyebrow raise in curiosity, wondering what he meant. It was answered soon enough as I heard running water. I looked, seeing the floor becoming soaked with water, a flood as it spread. I don’t know how Oliver did it, how he managed it, but he made it so there was water leaking everywhere.
I turned, seeing the nuckalavee standing on two legs, backing up. I thought it would have to be a stream or channel, but I guess breaking waterlines worked too. I felt relief, though it we were far from freedom just yet.
We made it to the door to the stairwell, and Oliver pushed himself to the limit running up it. He reached the door, though unlike the others, this one came with a combination lock.
“1969.” I whispered. Oliver pressed the number in, and I was ready to feel fresh air, feel the sun or the moon, or whatever and just fall asleep in safety, but then a nasty buzz came from it. He must have changed it after all.
I felt hopeless again. The golems, the dökkálfars, the nuckalavee, and who knows what else would be coming soon, not to mention the members of the US government and military wanting to use our skin as wardrobes.
“That’s okay, I know it.” Oliver said, his voice letting out a laugh that was almost hysterical, and punched something in that resulted in a pleasant, heavenly beep. I have no idea how he knew it, but he did.
Oliver pushed the door open, and his laugh stopped. “Damn.”
I opened my eyes, and saw something that wouldn’t normally bring me terror, if it wasn’t for seeing her covered in blood a few hours before.
Lisa stood there, wearing a pink sweater, denim shorts, and sensible tennis shoes. Her long black hair was in a ponytail, and she wore an angry, determined look, and I swear, maybe it was just superspeed, but she licked her lips.
“Don’t worry boys, y’all come with me if you want to break out of here.” Lisa said, bringing me another shock, one that was so small compared to everything else that had happened that night.
Chapter Text
I was too weak to speak for much longer, so we couldn’t discuss our options, leaving it up to Oliver, who had one question for Lisa.
“Are you a vampire?”
Lisa bit her lip and looked away. “Yeah, but I swear to God I’ve never killed anybody, or turned them into a vampire, I’m a Christian for God’s sake.”
We didn’t have crosses, garlic, holy water, stakes or any sunlight, so if she wanted to kill us she could. However, she seemed against the genocidal uncle that wanted to take over the world, so she seemed the best option.
Oliver wasn’t as convinced. “Why should I trust you, or believe you? Whose to say you aren’t going to, I don’t know, eat me? Eat us? We’ve seen you bloody!”
“That was a snack, but it wasn’t from anybody, I swear. And you can believe me because, I have a sign of goodwill.” Lisa said. She dug into her pocket and brought out a bright yellow rock, placing it in my hands. “Go on, Cooper, clutch it.”
I did, I clutched it with all the strength I had. I felt energy coursing through my veins, my eyes getting lighter, sleep being something I needed in the future not now, strength returning to my form. I felt alive again.
I got out of Oliver’s arms, feeling the strength back in my legs and a smile on my face. I looked at Oliver, so excited.
I wrapped my arms around him, bringing him into a hug. “Oliver, I’m back! I’m back, good as new!”
Oliver wasn’t ever too affectionate, but after a moment of shocked silence brought his arms around me, pulling me in close. “Thank God, thank him so much.”
I felt his tears on my shoulders and felt a lump in my throat, but there wasn’t time for that. “Dude.” I said, ignoring my voice breaking as I pulled away. “How did you get that water on the floor?”
Oliver looked at me, nervous and sheepish. “Um, you don’t live with Katie Otto your whole life without knowing how to blow up a toilet.”
“Ew.” I laughed, which lead to Oliver laughing as well.
“This is all nice and well, and I’m glad you two are so happy, but we’ve got to go now, right now, okay?” Lisa looked at us, searching our faces for understanding.
I looked at Oliver. He gave the slightest of nods. I looked over at Lisa and gave a more enthusiastic nod, feeling the rock in my hand.
“Okay, great, stay in me, and follow me.” Lisa said and lifted her shirt off her head.
“What?” I asked. “Woah, what is happening?”
“Calm down, Cooper, it’s only for a minute.”
Lisa was soon stripped of all clothes and handed them to Oliver. We were both averting our gazes from her, but I heard her make a sigh.
I looked over and saw her skin dissolving, melting, slipping off her bones. Then her bones began turning into liquid as well. After she was a puddle, she began to evaporate and turn into steam, a big encompassing steam.
“Dracula could turn into fog.” Oliver explained, and I nodded, though I did already know this, my Luca memories becoming stronger by the second.
It…her…the fog, began to move, and we stayed…enveloped within it as we walked. Around us there was gunfire and crashes and sounds of explosions. Soldiers and other beasts were fighting, blood marking the ground and corpses lay across the lawns. I looked away, not wanting to focus on death, but at least I knew why soldiers weren’t after us. The golems must have been sent in their place, and the other two were just wanting to get to us.
There must have been dozens of soldiers and people around the property, but they were distracted, and for some reason we were hidden well enough to get to the gate.
She began solidifying again, and quickly dressed at an inhuman speed. “How’d y’all like your first time in a naked girl?” she asked, laughing at her own joke.
She was still laughing as she placed her manicured hands on the gate. A big creak erupted as she ripped poles from their place, creating a gap big enough for us to go through. She turned to us and flashed us an uneasy smile. “Alright, let’s go.”
“Alright, let’s go?” Oliver asked. “I think we need a little more to go off of. I mean thanks for saving us, but what’s next?”
“Oliver, that’s your name, right? I’m a vampire, you’re just a guy, you don’t have much of a choice in all honesty.” Lisa said.
“My boy here is a wizard.” Oliver said, “He can mess you up if need be.”
“We’ve read the files on you, both. I know even if Cooper has all of his Luca memories, he’s still without his wand and is said to have always sucked at potions.” Lisa said. “Plus, I gave you that rock thing, so Cooper didn’t die. If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead, that’s true for any of us.”
“So that was all of you?” I asked, gesturing towards the chaos behind us.
“Yeah, pretty much all monsters this side of the Mississippi River that can fight and think.” Lisa said.
“Mississippi River?” I asked. “Are you from like the Tom Sawyer days?”
Lisa chuckled. “No, I’ve only been a vampire for like five years.”
“But you’re already knee deep in a…what, resistance?” Oliver asked.
“Yeah, yeah, we’ll explain it to you when we get to our base.” Lisa said. “Right now, Cooper, you’re going to be doing a transportation spell.”
“Back to Westport?” I asked.
“No, we still need y’all.” Lisa said and began reaching into her pocket, pulling out a paper. “Okay, Latin spell, so fun, here, just repeat it and we can be good to go!”
I weighed my options. I had my powers, and I could do a lot more, and get us away from Lisa, and all these monsters, some of whom did try to kill us it seems, but then what? The government, or this group would be after us. I couldn’t hide forever, and I could already feel the rock’s energy draining, it was only a temporary battery. It was time to make a choice and considering how much I had done to those beasts, I felt I owed them.
“It’s for the best.” I told Oliver and grabbed the paper. I looked at the words, feeling a spark of recognition, of power. This was much more balanced, not a spur of the moment spell, it wouldn’t drain me as much.
“Are you okay with this?” I asked Oliver. “It’s just that-.”
“Yeah, I know, I trust your choice.” Oliver said.
I nodded my head and took in a deep breath. I pointed my hand towards an empty space.
“Tria ad salutem.” Shadow darker than black sprung out of my hand and created a circle, a vortex. A sense of relief washed over me, something was telling me that there was safety on the other side, peace for Oliver and I.
“Great, let’s go.” Lisa said and jumped through, disappearing through the blackness.
“Is it really a good idea?” Oliver asked me. “Can’t you make a portal to somewhere else?”
“I…I don’t know how, not really.” I said, “It’s hard. I could take you to Westport and I go with them?”
“That’s not happening.” Oliver looked at me, unsure. “Do you trust it?”
I nodded.
“Well, I trust you, more than anybody else, so let’s go.”
I smiled and I motioned for Oliver to go through, needing to stay to keep it open. He flashed me a worried smile, then jumped in.
I took a deep breath, then jumped through myself, feeling the blackness envelop me.
Chapter Text
The darkness was silent, without smell, or taste, or feeling; it was neither hot, nor cold, and I didn’t feel myself moving at all.
Out of nowhere came light, a floor, a ceiling, walls. Oliver standing there, slimy green creatures holding his arms behind his back, the smell of mucus filling the room, forcing a retch out of my mouth.
Before anything, I could feel a slap of metal on both of my wrists, as well as my ankles. I looked and saw white skinned women, with pure black eyes and spiky hair smiling at me.
I felt the power gone and looked around, realizing Oliver, Lisa, and I were in a room with about six grotesque monsters. There was a bed, a table with a remote and two cups on it, two chairs at it, a television, a sink in the room, a box, and two doors. Though Oliver and I were restrained, Lisa was standing free, looking guiltily at me.
“I’m sorry, Cooper, Oliver.” Lisa said. “I swear it’ll be okay.”
The green creatures shoved Oliver and I towards the bed, then trudged towards one of the doors. The other creatures and Lisa joined them and left us in a room.
“You okay?” I asked Oliver, clutching the rock in my hand. The teleportation spell had used a lot of energy. I probably wouldn’t crash like I had for a while, but I wasn’t going to be able to overpower these gauntlets. Just to be safe I checked the door, locked.
Oliver nodded, going to the other door, revealing a bathroom with a toilet and shower, and thankfully some toilet paper. He closed it and went over to me. “You?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I just don’t feel any…power.” I rubbed my hands on these gauntlets, not finding any seam to begin trying to pick at it. I moved over to the bed and laid down, rubbing my temples.
Oliver nodded. “Yeah, good, okay. Now, can we start talking about all that is happening and how the hell we’re living this and surviving?”
I chuckled. “I have no clue; all of my Luca memories, oh it’s so weird, I can barely believe it. I was another guy for like four years, you know? If you didn’t catch that, at the same time, oh God it’s so weird.”
“How do you think I feel?” Oliver asked, laughing, and I realized just how weird this was for him. I had my Luca memories, scrambled and bringing me disorientation if I dwelled too much, but I didn’t really feel discombobulated. Oh gosh, that was not a Cooper word, that was pure Luca.
Oliver sat beside me, dropping face down and moaning into the pillow.
“Anyway out of here?” Oliver asked.
I thought, seeing if there was something else that I could do, but came to nothing. We were trapped here until they let us out.
I shook my head. “I’m sorry.” I said, “For making you come.”
“Cooper, I’d rather be home, or in a Californian mansion without the government after us, but I would of course have come with you. Even knowing all of this, I still would have come.” Oliver said, sitting up and looking at me. “I should have made us leave, I’m supposed to be the responsible one, I shouldn’t have let us stay the second something ghosty…spooky happened.”
“You couldn’t have known this was going to happen.” I said, “And it doesn’t really seem like my uncle would have stopped, if he went through the process of cloning me.”
Oh my gosh, my uncle cloned me. It’s official, full, I’m a complete freak. A monster.
“How is that all going? How are you feeling?” Oliver asked. “You were a different person, if I’m understanding all of this right correctly, with a different life, while you were living in Westport.”
I nodded. “Yeah, it’s so…hard. I have memories of being there, of living there. Now that I’m looking back, it wasn’t all real. I know that my dad…Luca’s dad, and mom, and his dad marrying my… Luca’s stepmom, none of that was real, it was all implanted memories. I just showed up with my stepmom in town, one day, working at a store, thinking I was a warlock. Everything before that was fake. I don’t even think they got actors to be my mom or dad.”
“Wait…wait…you worked at a store?”
I chuckled. “Yeah, and I was a dick honestly. I tried to poison her, and I stole some guy’s song; I was only in that town like a year, then Uncle Arthur got me. That’s when the memories kind of get hazy again.”
“Why did he even put you in that town then?” Oliver asked.
“I don’t know, to give a sense of humanity, maybe.” I answered. “It was a normal high school, almost Riverdale-ish, the comics, not the show, pretty Americana. I think he wanted me to know who I was fighting for, or he wanted me to hate everything, didn’t he say something?”
“I don’t know, I was just trying to keep him talking, I wasn’t listening too much. Was there anybody there?” Oliver asked. “Anybody you’d consider your…best friend?”
I shook my head. “No, there was this one girl I liked, she was interested in witchcraft, but after her aunt died, I stole her brother’s song. God, I was such a dick. It only got worse when I went to work for the General. Am I just a dick?” I asked. “You know, I thought being your friend is what made me nicer, but did that just take all of my dickish parts, take my negative qualities? Am I a jerk? And I was just split in half, my nice parts in Westport?”
“It’s possible.” Oliver said. “But he said the other you is gone…and he made it sound like it had been for a bit, and you haven’t magically turned into a douche. And you didn’t move back to Florida and leave me, or my family, and even before that splitting happened, you weren’t some monster before, just a regular rich, clueless brat. Totally redeemable.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know, but I didn’t like what Luca was like, and I don’t really want to be like that again. I did so much, so much wrong.”
“Well, we may not even get to be alive after this.” Oliver said. “So, there’s no real point in this philosophical debating.”
I nodded and looked around, trying to see if there was anything that I could do.
“I have to tell you something dude.” Oliver said. “It’s been something I haven’t been completely honest about.”
I felt my heart skip a beat. Even though we’ve met an alien, a vampire, and are being chased by an evil government organization, my feelings for Oliver was still something giving me pause.
“Yeah, it’s okay.” I said, “You can tell me anything.”
“Well, I’ve never told you…that I…well…I’m really a big fan of Harry Potter.”
I looked at Oliver, cocking an eyebrow. This was not what I thought was going to be coming up, at all. “Okay…I mean, I knew you liked the movies, and you did that houses stuff.”
“No, I mean, like I read the books, like, all of them.”
“Oh.” I said, “I mean, I know she’s transphobic nowadays, so feeling a little guilty is normal, but I hear there’s something about the art and the artist-.”
“No, no, I’m just saying…” Oliver began, “I’m…kind of a nerd…I really like to read, or at least I used to, especially fantasy books.”
“Wow, this is going to take some time to digest.” I joked. “I mean, dude, I think reading is boring, but I don’t care, it’s really not a big deal, I mean, I’ve been cloned.”
“Yeah, well, I just also want to say, seeing you as wizard…I really thought it was…cool.” Oliver said, and I suspected the last word was a swap.
This was going on too much. I mean, I wanted it, he wanted it, everybody we ever met wanted it, I just needed to propel it. I mean, we may starve to death in here, this needed to be addressed.
I looked at Oliver, just stared at his deep, dark, chocolate eyes. “You know, amigo, I’ve been meaning to tell you something since we arrived.”
Oliver’s eyes grew wider, and I saw his lips twitch. “Yeah, what is it?”
I leaned it to him, his warmth so inviting and so close. I put my hands on his and felt my smile get wider. “I…I don’t want to leave it unsaid, if something happens to us…I want to spend it with you, whatever time we have left.”
Oliver’s expression became unreadable, and for a second I worried if I had deluded all of this, that this was all my imagination, that Oliver and I were just platonic, at least from his end.
“I’m going to kiss you, if that’s alright.” Any notion of pure platonic was evaporated as Oliver nodded eagerly and I dove right in. His lips felt so soft, custom-made mattresses could go to hell, and his passion was hotter than coastal islands. It total, it was perfect kissing him, in the top three moments of my life.
Chapter 45
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Oliver pulled away from me. I don’t know exactly how long we had been kissing, but I felt time had been put on pause. Seconds, minutes, hours, time was nothing when I was with Oliver, hunger thirst, sleep, none of those things were needed, all that was needed was Oliver.
He looked nervous, but happy, something that made me break out into a smile too, and I wanted to dive right back in.
“Okay, should we talk about this?” Oliver asked. “Or…should we just keep making out.”
“Either works for me.” I laughed. “But, yeah, I guess we can start…so, where do you want this to go? Are we dating? Just going to keep kissing? What?”
Oliver shrugged. “I think, if we live through this, dating is good. I really wanted to know though, when did this, your feelings for me, start?”
“Wasn’t that long ago, really, or at least how long I’ve been aware…” I answered. “Just when we got here. I’ve been trying to put my moves on you since we arrived. Has it been working?”
His chuckle was warm and contagious. “Yeah, yeah, it’s been working. I figured that’s when you noticed. I’ll be honest though; I was hoping you’d been crushing on me longer.”
“When did you get them?”
“That first day in the New York penthouse. I just looked at you, and it was like something clicked. I realized I didn’t want anybody else there with me. I saw my future, living it up in a New York penthouse or a California mansion, and I knew you had to be there. I didn’t even want anybody else there, I didn’t want visitors, or neighbors, of other friends, or family, or hell, even money. I just wanted you, that was more than enough. I guess honestly, I’ve been thinking that for a while, but it really clicked then and there.”
I smiled. “I’ve thought about that too, for a while, ese. You know, I love your family, but really, I don’t need anybody but you. I’ve thought about moving away, to New York, Los Angeles, Miami, for whatever reason, and I can accept my relationship with your parents being on the phone, video-calling them once a week, but you’ve always been right there with me, you’ve always had to be. I never would have put that up to me being in love with you, though, don’t know why I didn’t think that, but I didn’t. That’s why you’re the smart one.”
Oliver smirked. “I’m not that smart, nothing spectacular, nothing compared to a wizard. Also, I meant to tell you that you being one is incredibly hot.”
“Great, I turn into a walking aphrodisiac, and then I become a prisoner to the supernatural.”
Aphrodisiac? That has to be a Luca word.
“I’m sure you’ve heard that word before.” Oliver said.
“Huh?” I asked.
“I mean, I know they’ve used that before on shows.” Oliver said. “And surely you’ve heard about it when cooking before.”
“Maybe.” I said, “But I didn’t say that.”
“What?”
“I didn’t say it.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Huh?”
I didn’t understand, first of all, I didn’t say that about an aphrodisiac, and now I was just confused.
“Oh, well, another recent development I guess, another secret.” Oliver sighed and sat up, disentangling himself from me. “I think I can read minds.”
What? That was crazy.
“I know, it’s crazy.” Oliver said.
What? How did he know I thought that.
“Cooper, I just told you, I can read minds.”
Oh my gosh, Oliver can read minds.
“Cooper!”
“Sorry.” I couldn’t believe this, but knowing what all was happening, it wasn’t the craziest. “This doesn’t make sense, how? You’ve never, have you known this? When did…I don’t know what to say.”
“It started just when your uncle was monologuing to us.” Oliver answered. “I heard you, and I thought you were just talking, letting it slip out when you were panting. Then when we were walking, I heard you talking about how much you suck, and how evil you are, and I thought you were just talking normally then too. It was only now, I think, that I realize I can read your mind.”
“Can you read anybody else’s?” I asked, trying to think about past telepaths I knew about.
“I haven’t been around anybody, but those monsters and Lisa.” Oliver said. “I’ve got no idea, I didn’t even try to read Lisa’s, or have the time.”
I nodded. “Okay, so, that’s…not exactly helpful, right now, but pretty awesome. I pretty much say everything that I already think, so it won’t be that different.”
Oliver smiled a bit. “Well, that’s good, but it’s not all. This one…this is worse…”
“What?” I asked. “It’s okay, I mean, we probably won’t be alive after this honestly.”
Oliver laughed. “Well…I can…I can see dead people.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “Like, you’ve see bodies?”
“Like ghosts, Cooper.” Oliver said. “That started when we were in the chairs, I thought they were there around us while we were tied up, but I saw Jillian being one of them. The others, they were wearing patient gowns, and looked so sick, and skinny, I thought they were another sick bodyguards, but Jillian was wearing regular clothes, covered in blood, looking alive. She told me what to say, and how to keep him going, she knew you were remembering.”
“What?” I asked. “Okay, people can see ghosts, but…that’s crazy for this to just pop up out of nowhere, you’ve never seen a ghost before?”
“Just Spencer, but that was just a hallucination, I thought.” Oliver said. “Then when we went into the halls, some of them showed up, helping, just a little, while you were weak. I couldn’t even see them in the dark that much, but heard them, and they gave me the code.”
I nodded, trying to take this in. Telepathy and mediumship, telling me that Oliver possessed those abilities a few days ago, I never would have believed it, but now I knew so much was going on.
“Are there any here?” I asked.
“Jillian.” Oliver said. “She’s here.”
I felt tears begin to spring out of my eyes, guilt within me, eroding everything within me.
“It’s okay, Cooper, she’s pretty calm about it.” Oliver said. “I mean, she keeps trying to assure me that death will be fine if that’s what the monsters do, so it’s not great.”
I crumpled, but Oliver was there to catch me as I began to sob in his chest. Oliver put his hands on my back, one stroking up and down, the other patting me, as the fact that my relatives were dead hit me.
Gabriel was doing so much, there were so many people depending on him, looking to him for help, for medical help, and they were going to struggle without him, and be in such pain. Aunt Jillian had kids, grandkids, that were going to be without her, and were going to hear how she died so violently or be left to wonder. Vicki had…we didn’t talk too much, but I’m sure she’ll have friends and fans who are going to miss her. And her mom, who she was never going to get to make up with.
“I don’t know about Gabriel and Vicki, Cooper, but Jillian says it’s okay. She wants you to know that.”
I shook my head, the sobs coming out violently, I couldn’t speak, not that it mattered, Oliver knew what I was thinking. That if it wasn’t for me, the General never would have collected the creatures, the General never would be this successful, or powerful, and would just be a pipe dream. I got them killed, I got the General powerful, and greedy, and killed.
“Cooper, none of that is true, he’s insanely rich and powerful, if it wasn’t you it would have been anybody.” Oliver said.
That may have been true, but I just couldn’t accept it. I knew, if I had done something different, if I didn’t let myself be manipulated, it would be different.
“Cooper, I need you to sit up, just for now.” Oliver said. “You’ve got to say goodbye, she’s ready to go.”
“What?” I yelped, shooting up, looking into Oliver sympathetic eyes. “How? How can she be ready? With all that’s going on, how can she be at peace?”
“Aunt Jillian’s ready, she’s ready, she’s ready to see Beverly again. Her wife, you know? And she says she trusts us to fix this.”
“But, I…I…I.” I swallowed a lump.
“She can hear you Cooper, just say what you need to.”
“I’m sorry…I-I-I…I wish we could have gotten to know each other; better, and I could change this, and fix this, and save you, and met your kids. I wish I knew them, and I…I… I wish that I didn’t cause this.”
Oliver looked past me, then back at me, a smile on his face. “It’s…okay, she would have liked that too. Jillian says the second she saw her smile she was in love; you gave her back her sister for a little, and that was the greatest final gift she could have gotten, she’s going to love seeing her too.”
“She…you can stay, just follow us, and help, and, we can see your kids together.”
“She’s tired, she says, she’s not meant to be a ghost.” Oliver said. “She says she loves you, and she wishes us luck and goodbye.”
“No, please, I don’t want her to go, she can watch movies, and shows, and do roller coasters-and she-.”
“She’s gone, Cooper.” Oliver said, squeezing me tightly, offering his sweetest smile.
I dropped back to Oliver and sobbed for a while. He joined in too, mourning, for all we had lost, the worldview, the simple, easy good world we had lost, for the good people gone, and all that we could potentially lose.
Notes:
Sorry this chapter is a bit wonky, it was the best I could to push all this information out, a lot was going on with Oliver and I couldn't think of a better way to put this.
Chapter Text
Oliver and I had fallen asleep and were awake again. We sobbed as much as we could before passing out and slept a rejuvenating sleep. When we woke, we were much more cheery, much more optimistic, though we had nowhere to go with all of our newfound hope and energy. We were confined to the bed, to the room, and we agreed we weren’t ready for that kind of energy-burning in our relationship, so we just watched television.
Apparently the supernatural resistance and the General though alike, because the box was full of movies, shows, video games, board games, and a deck of playing cards. We had put on an eighties legal drama and just sat there, doing…stuff, nothing…too much.
It was around noon when the door opened, Lisa standing there, holding two plastic bags and a sheepish smile. The door was closed immediately afterwards, like we were going to try and escape.
“Hey, boys. You know, I don’t really know what Connecticut people eat. I hear In-and-Out is good, but I wouldn’t really know. I’d get y’all some Whataburger, but they don’t have any here, so I just got a bunch of stuff that I could find at Walmart, and some Happy Meals in here too!”
Lisa dropped the bags on the table and faced us, smiling. She took out a bag of chips and smiled at us. “Come on, aren’t y’all hungry? I was here with breakfast earlier, but y’all were asleep. I’ve also got you some clothes!”
“Is this to fatten us up for consumption?” Oliver asked.
Lisa frowned. “Now, boys, I’m sorry about…you know, imprisoning you, well, really all I did was help in imprisoning you, it was not my idea, I assure you, and I don’t like it, I think it’s very bad.”
“Oh great, you’re forgiven.” Oliver said dryly.
“Listen, I’m really not very different than you two.” Lisa said. “Really, compared to all these freaks here? I hate it. I’m trying to keep you two alive. I’ll be honest, a lot of them out there want to eat you.”
“What?” Oliver screamed.
“Or kill you, or torture you, or take away your virginities, which by the way, we can all smell.” Lisa laughed. “Didn’t think it was going to still be here after cooping you two up, but color me wrong. But I really want to just let you two go back home so you two can forget about all of this nonsense, and just live a nice, normal life.”
“What is home?” I asked. “We’re going to be wanted by the military even if we get out.”
“What?” Lisa looked at me confused. “No, no. Your uncle is doing that all on his own, free of the government involvement.”
“Huh?” I asked. “That doesn’t make sense, he’s got soldiers, and scientists, and warlocks helping him, he’s got all of this, what do you mean? He’s got to have help.”
“He’s doing this by himself. You know, he found out about the no killing thing and decided to leave the government and form his own…thing, bringing in his secret circle and mercenaries and his research group, along with dozens of donors. He thinks this is the true America, and this is the way it should be, and that his organization is the true American spirit. He thinks the government will adopt this program and his suits when they prove it, I’m sure he’s right, but the government doesn’t have any official hand in this. So don’t worry, if we defeat them, you’ll be fine, unless someone forms a personal grudge and chases y’all, and tries to kill you, but you won’t be on any government watchlist.”
“Oh, well that’s less extreme.” I sighed, feeling a slight sense of relief.
“How do you know this?” Oliver asked. “And, we shouldn’t be feeling like we’re not in danger, this is still a massively rich, heavily populated group ready to kill.”
Lisa sighed and sat at the table. She let her smile fall, and it became obvious that she was lying to herself, if not lying to us. She slapped her smile back on and looked at us. “Well, for the first question, I was just a normal girl, perfectly fine, nice, average, sweet, rich, pretty, popular…” Lisa bit her lips and widened her eyes, and I realized she was close to tears, and I felt it too, an immense sadness within me, the heavy loss she had experienced, it was like I had lost it all too.
“Anyway, I knew the General, he was friends with my grandpa a little, ran around in the same circles whenever the General visited Texas, not that my grandpa knew about any of this, he’s pretty average; I don’t even know why the General wanted me, it’s not like they were close, and I had only met him once, I really don’t know why he targeted me, like I said I was pretty popular, and it was pretty big news when I went missing, I don’t know why I was chosen. Anyway, this suit is just one of his many experiments, he’s done so many different kinds of things over the years, in so many ways, normal military, magic, aliens, all kinds of junk. One of the things was that he wanted to see if he could create an army of supernatural creatures, he’s tried werewolves, zombies, fairies; I was a part of his vampire initiative.”
“An army sounds more solid than the suit.” Oliver said. “The suit seems clunky, like it can just break or be defeated with enough force.”
“Well, he couldn’t create loyalty, none of his brainwashing worked too well, and weren’t as loyal as he liked. Anyway, I went to a bar, just a normal night, I was with some friends, and I began flirting with this guy who turned out to be working for your uncle, oh gosh he was hot, so damn hot. He slipped me something, something to make me sleep and some vampire blood. He turned me into a vampire, threw me into one of the vampire cages under your uncle’s mansion, then took me out, and I was kept locked up for a few months, I got me a guard boyfriend, a real cutie who was pretty sweet, all things considered, and told me all kinds of intel, about your uncle’s work, and his plans, and everything. He let me leave when he realized we were going to be executed, that the plan had failed and he was going to be putting all his focus on the suit. It was pretty sad, Grant, he stayed and was killed for being a traitor, but you know, he wasn’t doing the best thing ever, so, it is what it is.”
“Harsh job security.” Oliver said.
“Yeah, well, I escaped, accidentally killed a deer, my only victim, I swear. I couldn’t very well go back home, I was a monster, and my family have so many crosses, there wasn’t an excuse for me to use, and I know that the General would be coming after me whenever he got the chance. I wanted to die, but I didn’t have the nerve to do it, and I felt so sorry for not taking Grant with me. I lived on the streets, afraid to go home. I found another group, a group of Baptist Vampires who took me in and helped me cope with everything, really nice people and they helped me learn to deal with this, learn to survive without becoming a monster, not even having to kill animals.”
“And how does one survive without killing?” Oliver asked.
“It’s pretty gross, so I’ll just leave it y’alls imagination.” Lisa said.
I grimaced, as my imagination took me someplace rather nasty.
“I don’t want to kill.” Lisa emphasized. “In fact, I didn’t want this at all, I still don’t want to go after your uncle’s group. One of the members of the Baptist Vampires, Connie, she wanted to reverse it, to become a human, and I was so ready to try.”
“Is there a way?” I asked. I knew a lot about beasts and their lives, but not everything. As soon as I captured one I was ready to go back and capture another, dismissing the information I had learned.
“Not as far as I can see, but Connie had thought so, and that’s when she got in touch with the General. She didn’t know it was him when she met, she didn’t tell me about it too much, just that there was somebody she thought could give her humanity back. He promised they could search together, and he had connections, and she told be about them sleeping together, then I stopped hearing from her. Our whole group did, we tried to find her, to no avail. Then this group found me, and told me what happened to her, and I decided that helping them was the best option, not to brag, but I’m one of the few to escape from your uncle.”
“Why is helping this group the best option?” Oliver asked.
“This group wants revenge, some of them had family and friends captured. Some know they’ll be on the General’s target list eventually; he doesn’t want supernatural powers existing naturally, just in his suits, it may take decades to take over the world, but to a lot of these that’s as close as tomorrow. I think, some are wanting something else, to become in control in some way; me, I just want to make sure that the world isn’t under the General’s control.”
“Let me applaud you for your heroics.” Oliver said.
“I don’t like death, I’m sorry, I mean, I’m as patriotic as the next girl, but I think this is globalization. I also need to atone, for killing that innocent deer.”
“Please, my mom hits one at least every presidential term.” Oliver scoffed.
“Why don’t they just launch a full-scale attack?” I asked. “Can’t they beat him?”
“They could, if it wasn’t for Cooper’s teachers, and other magicians of the trade, they have a huge number of them working for them.”
“Okay.” Oliver said, “But why is this group trying to kill us, again?”
“You, they think you’re yummy, evil by association, worthless human, just a snack really.” Lisa said. “Cooper, they blame him for his helping capture so many family members.”
“He wasn’t in control.” Oliver said. “He was being manipulated!”
“Hey listen, I support victims and mental health, but some people here are older than shoes, so forgive them for being antiquated and bloodlusty.”
I nodded. “Okay, is there anything I can do to keep us alive? I mean, Oliver could get amnesia, or something, there has to be a potion I could brew.”
“Cooper, we’re not doing that.” Oliver said. “I’m with him, no matter what.”
“You won’t know it after it’s over.” I said, “I mean, I’m still missing some chunks I think, you’ll be fine about forgetting it.”
“Let me remind you, not happening.” Oliver said.
“Well, I’m glad you two are such good friends.” Lisa said, her tone on friend being emphasized. “And unless you could prove yourself, I don’t really think there is a way to redeem yourself to them.”
“Well, I want to prove myself.” I said, “We’ll prove ourselves.”
Chapter Text
Lisa left us soon later, and Oliver and I couldn’t resist it, tearing into the food she had gotten us. None of it was great, manufactured, fatty, and I much rather have cooked something for us, but as the food graced my tongue and slid over my taste buds, I felt like I was in Heaven, my moans loud and long.
Oliver was in a similar state, enjoying the food, scarfing it down and stuffing his face. He also confirmed he could read her mind too, and that she was telling us the truth, as best as he could tell. As we ate the junk, I understand how rich people tricked so many poor people happy for so long, this stuff was delicious when you had no other choice.
We threw our stuff on the floor; they overlooked putting a trashcan into the room, so it just laid there until Lisa came for lunch, staying for about an hour, trying to raise our spirits. I could tell she was nervous though, frantic and panicked, it was radiating off of her like a stench, though she smelled exquisite.
Oliver and I busied ourselves with board games, which there are really few for two people. He did teach me chess, and we did a puzzle. There was a bit of a difference between our rooms at the General’s mansion and here, in that everything was off. We were missing a card, missing a token, missing a chess piece, a puzzle piece, pages ripped from the books, a single scratch on the bottom of every DVD, a very petty form of torture.
Still, I enjoyed it, to an extent, being alone with Oliver, viewing him through this new lens, this one of openness and affection. I would rather be doing it in our basement, or a mansion, but I was making the best of the situation.
We were watching episode eight of our legal drama show, after having to skip episode seven, trying to figure out what had happened in the show when Lisa came through.
“You have our dinner?” I asked.
“No, I’m taking y’all to dinner!” Lisa cheered, smiling widely. “We’re going to meet with the leader, ain’t that amazing?”
“The leader? Who is that?” I asked.
“She’s the white, white, one with spikey hair, you know, you saw her before y’all went to sleep.”
“Does she have a name?” Oliver asked.
“Not one that she tells me of.” Lisa admitted.
“We can’t meet somebody called the leader.” I said, “I mean we’re just wearing these hobo clothes.”
“It’s sweatshirts and sweatpants.” Oliver said.
“Yeah, isn’t this what they wear?” I asked.
“It’s good enough, you boys are just cute and dandy, it’ll be fine.”
“No, I look like a slob.” I protested.
“Okay, Cooper, gonna keep it real with you, she wanted your head on a spike until last night, so maybe just act a bit grateful.”
I nodded, realizing once again where I was. Oliver reached over and gave me a squeeze on my hand, and leaned into me, his lips right against my ear.
“Let’s just say what we have to so we can get back home.” Oliver whispered. “I need to be with you, outside of this chaos.”
He slipped lower and gave me a kiss on the cheek, and I smiled, nodding.
“We’ll be…well I guess we already are ready.” I looked over at Oliver who shrugged. “We’re right behind you.”
“Great!” Lisa cheered and held up three big shackles with chains connecting them. “Now just as a security measure, she wants y’all to wear these.”
I looked over at Oliver, who looked defeated, but willing. “Yeah, I guess this is where we’re at.”
Lisa placed them around our necks, the metal harsh and clanky against my skin, tight and metaphorically suffocating. She held one shackle in her hand like a leash, leading Oliver, then me behind her. This was so embarrassing, and humiliating, having to wear these sweatshirts in front of people.
There was an overwhelming smell of musk and mildew as we stepped into the hall that made me wince. Cobwebs were spun in the corners of the hall, so many laid on top of each other that it was nest-like. The hall was plain, but as we walked, we kicked up dust that covered the floor, building clouds and infecting our lungs.
“This is where the resistance meets?” Oliver’s voice was full of disgust.
“Kind of.” Lisa said. “This is a condemned building here in the city, I heard it used to be a crack house, but its’ not really the base.”
It was only two doors down where Lisa stopped us, opening the door with a nervous sigh. She pushed the door and swung it open in a grand move, showing us the interior.
Unlike the decrepit state of the rest of the house, the room was a whole other world. Perhaps literally, as I suspected it was a portal to another location, perhaps another dimension.
It opened onto a platform, one that surrounded the large warehouse room, with four staircases on each side. The room was full of creatures, largely humanoid ones. All kinds of beasts, of all kinds of shades, and shapes, and sizes, their looks varied, especially varied in the non-humanoid variations. They filled the room, all doing tasks and talking loudly, walking around; it looked more like a room for a political campaign than what I thought a resistance would look like. The furniture was nice and new, as was the technology in the room, and the creatures with semi-normal bodies were wearing casual clothing rather than dirty, drab, hand-made looking militaristic uniforms that I saw in resistant movies. And it smelled heavenly, like a citrus wonderland within.
There was a level of urgency and nerves in the room though, it was palatable, and I felt myself beginning to be covered in a layer of sweat as Lisa pulled us to the left, walking across the landing. Beside the urgency, I felt anger, a fury that was burning hot, a sorrow that was tear-inducing, mournful, and a hunger that I couldn’t quite place.
I noticed these were largely the intelligent beasts within, the ones most similar in human intelligence, or that surpassed it. And the ones with the most level of morality, that operated closest to humans in their belief in rights and wrongs. There were very few that were in both categories, however.
One, a goblin, caught sight of me, his eyes widening in fear, and I heard his raspy whisper above the crowd’s murmurs. He tugged the shirt of the gnome next to him, who shot a glance at Oliver and me. The gnome glared at me, his face turning red, leaning forward like he wanted to lunge at me.
The mood spread to the room, the chatter pausing, and most of those creatures turning to glaring at us, glaring at me, with hatred and disgust and fear coming off them like waves. The room had turned starkly silent, could almost hear blood pumping and hearts beating as we walked by. I hoped a riot wouldn’t break out.
It wasn’t a far walk, only the next door down so I felt some relief as we walked into the room when Lisa pulled us through. It was a conference room, a long table with multiple chairs at it, looking like stocks and numbers were going to be talked about more than whatever was actually going to happen.
At the head of the table was the Leader, drinking from a clear glass of, her eyes closed in what seemed to be pleasure as she sipped. Her white hair appeared softer than it had been, shortly cropped though, and swept to the side. She either wore skintight clothes or had done something to modify her body to remove the…feminine bits, as she looked naked. She had one finger raised up, telling us to wait.
At the table were other creatures, one directly to the Leader’s left, a hulking, gray fur covered creature with the snout of a donkey and ears to match. Despite his large form, he seemed unsure, and like he was shrinking into himself. He wore nice clothes, something that Clark Kent would wear, a button up shirt, slacks, a very odd version of a donkey-centaur kind of guy.
On the right side of the table were the three I had seen in that grocery store in Oklahoma, though now I knew better. The man was a dwarf, hairier since I last saw him, his beard unkempt. The one with short hair was a pixie, and the girl with long hair was a siren. All three were looking more mystical, their masks faded now that they were away from prying eyes.
Lisa took a seat at the end of the table, leaving Oliver to sit beside her, and me to sit between him and the onocentaur, the donkey-man. I nodded at him; the kind of nod white people give when they’re uncomfortable. Surprisingly he gave me the same gesture.
My attention was drawn to the leader letting out a satisfied sigh as she finished. Her eyes were open again; they were still dark, though it was now shades of black rather than solid, allowing an iris and sclera to be seen. She smiled, showing two rows of perfectly white and straight teeth that looked straight out of a politician’s mouth.
“Well, if it isn’t Luca?” The Leader’s voice was crisp and sharp, very politician of her. “Oh, how I’ve heard about you, and wondered for years about the boy that was doing all of this, collecting our people as Pokémon. It’s very nice to finally see you, eye to eye.”
“Yeah, it’s nice to meet you two.” I had no idea what else to say, and that seemed like the polite thing to say. “I actually prefer Cooper, that’s my name, sorry.”
The Leader smirked. “That’s alright, Cooper, I go by Eden myself, though you and Oliver, and Lisa, for that matter, can keep calling me Leader.”
I nodded. “Okay, works for me, muy bueno.”
The Leader nodded. “Well, as you know, you have locked up numerous of our, as you like to call us: creatures. I could actually thank you. Those others clones, Eli, Braxton, all those other failed experiments of your great-uncle, they only managed to capture a few, but you, Lu-Cooper, you have personally captured and been accomplice to the torture to the majority of my organization’s family members.”
I nodded. “Okay, I’ll accept whatever, but Oliver here is innocent, he’s great to go, he should be free and at home, make him forget this and me if you’re dead set on revenge, I can do those spells.”
“No.” Oliver said. “To clarify, Cooper and I are a package deal, we’re staying together.”
“Yes, calm yourself Cooper, we have no intention of killing either of you, which was quite a bummer to the army, we were going to have a to decide who would get the privilege of owning Oliver.”
“Wow, and some offices just raffle off pizza.” Oliver grumbled.
“But we do have to do something.” The Leader said. “You see, I know your teachers have probably given you some warped version of history to you, portraying warlocks as the nice middle ground, straddling the line between the mystical and the mundane. And how it was your duty as a warlock to bring a balance, to make sure that us…the magical side, didn’t have too much leverage.”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“Hey, I’ve got to ask, what is your goal?” Oliver interrupted. “You’re against imperialism of the world? Against globalization?”
“I don’t care, any which way.” The Leader dismissed the idea. “If it was up to me, I’d take any side against the General, he wants to wipe us, eventually. I know his plans, first other countries, then other planets, then other universes, but we’re on his target list, moveable, but there.”
“Universes?” I asked. “My teachers never told me about that.”
“Your uncle has plans for complete domination, of all things, he won’t stop.” The Leader said. “He’ll wipe us out if he needs to. He may be distracted for years, for decades, trying to conquer countries, planets, universes, but he’ll set his sights on us soon enough, and obviously, I don’t want that, but let’s circle back to the myth of warlocks being the perfect middle-ground.”
“Weasels.” The Dwarf huffed.
“Enough of that.” The Leader admonished him, leading to his face turning red. She turned back to us. “Anyway, I am inclined to agree, in not quite as harsh words. They are humans with just a bit of charm, and a bit of practice, their interests will be themselves above all else. So, us working…cooperating with humans like you, it’s quite abnormal.”
“Ma’am.” The onocentaur spoke up in a tepid, nervous voice. “Our reports have shown they’re more enhanced, beyond the usual levels of magicians. Oliver has telepathy and mediumship, and Cooper has empathy and pre and postcognition.”
“Que?” I asked.
“Well, you can’t have the visions with our gauntlets, Cooper, they’re magical in nature.” the onocentaur said. “Usually, you’re able to have visions, of the past and future, as well as empathy, which is new. The visions usually manifest in dreams, but you should still be able to feel our feelings, do you?”
I sat there, thinking. I could feel anger, fear, paranoia. It was faint, but it was there, and not all of these feelings were mine. I nodded an affirmative.
“How did they get these abilities?” The Pixie asked.
“It seems they were hit with by alien waves and given their telepathy and empathy.” The onocentaur answered.
“That’s nothing more than mutants, we don’t associate with them.” The Pixie dismissed.
“There’s mutants?” I asked.
“There’s everything.” The Leader answered. “And the mediumship and precognition?”
“Seems like they were natural.”
“Another level of mutantism.” The pixie scoffed.
“These aren’t anything that should excuse their execution!” The dwarf yelled.
“Listen, we don’t need to do any killing, at all.” Lisa said. “I’m sure if we pay all just talk, we’ll figure it out and come to a good conclusion.”
“She’s a vampire, she’s a dime a dozen.” The Pixie said. “Do we even need here here?”
“When Cooper was split into two, his negative qualities were extradited into the Luca form.” The siren said, voice lovely and so pleasant, managing to calm the dwarf and wipe off his angry face. “That was proven, Cooper’s intentions here are nowhere near as malicious as Luca’s. And if we’re trying to rebrand and change it so we’re more personable, maybe executing an innocent like Oliver, and a half innocent like Cooper, isn’t quite the move we need to take.”
“Yes, yes…I know.” The Leader sighed. “This is largely a recap of how it’s been going for us the last few days, our back and forth. Cooper, what do you think the General’s plans with the collected he has now?”
I thought about it. The General wasn’t stupidly cruel…that was me, I wanted to kill them, as Luca. From what Lisa said he did execute some, though that had to be a side-project and different than natural creatures. He would probably keep the ones he had alive for a while, to make more suits, to keep his suit powered, maybe the others too, maybe indefinitely. I thought back to the dead fairies, and felt another layer of confusion.
“I don’t know.” I answered honestly. “I think he’ll keep them alive, for a while, at least, if they don’t kill themselves.”
“That’s why we want to do a rescue mission.” The Leader said. “You go back there, get our people out, and we’ll let you go.”
“That’s it?” I asked.
“That’s it?” Oliver scoffed. “He’s a warlock who almost died after four spells, and apparently I’m a mutant who has the power to hear a little more than normal people, so we’re screwed.”
The Leader’s smile grew a little more. “My little organization here doesn’t go in guns-a-blazing, we like to plan, Lisa’s impromptu mission notwithstanding, so if you can plan on things to do, you can try them. Try to earn your redemption, redeem yourself in their eyes as their reluctant savior, and forget all about this.”
“Great!” I cheered. “I’m ready for anything!”
Chapter Text
The dwarf and the pixie were dismissed from the room soon after another negative comment, and the onocentaur, who was being called Clyde, left and returned with some food for Oliver and me. Some more fast food, which I didn’t want to eat. Once I began eating the food, it became addictive, and I was enjoying the taste, but I was dying to begin cooking again, doing something nice and secure in the safety of the Otto basement kitchen.
The Leader stood up and strode towards the door when were given our food. “I hope to hear some effective and solid plans when I return, you know what’s at risk.”
She closed the door on her way out, leaving us with Lisa, Clyde, and the siren, Elaine. Lisa looked at us hopefully, Clyde at us nervously, and Elaine barely glanced at us, seeming bored with it all, though I could tell there was intrigue coming off of her.
Oliver was annoyed and terrified out of his mind at all that was happening, too nervous to even look at Clyde. He was handling this all remarkably well, though, he was pushed into the deep end without a lifejacket or anything; the General had eased me into it, a surprisingly kind move considering how crazy all of this was and how malicious he was.
A thought hit me. “Oh my gosh, we’ve got to call Oliver’s mom and his family.”
“Already done.” Elaine said listlessly. “We’ve been able to mimic your voices, and we’ve made copies of your phones.”
Out of her sweater pocket she pulled out our phones, two exact copies of them. I reached out to grab it, but she pulled it back.
“Not for you, not yet.” Elaine said. “Not until you have proof.”
“How did you do that?” Oliver asked.
“When we scanned you two in Oklahoma we were able to make a copy of your phones, and knew they weren’t on you when we gathered you, so we recreated them.”
I shrugged. “Esta bien, okay, let’s come up with a way to save the day!”
“It can’t be that hard, can it?” Oliver asked tentatively. “I mean, there’s all these powers here, can’t just a full force attack take them on?”
“We had a bit of a preview of that.” Elaine said. “When Lisa went and saved you. Their weapons are too advanced, and with their assistance from the extraterrestrials leaves us without leverage. It is possible, but with the suit going live tomorrow we only have one more shot, so she wants us to put as many safety-nets as possible.”
“They have a group of soldiers, with alien technology that can neutralize our abilities, that’s one obstacle. Even if we take all of them out, the suit is going to be completed by tomorrow night, leaving us with very little time.” Clyde said.
“Can we take out the General?” Oliver asked. “How loyal are the soldiers and scientists, can we cut the snake at its head?”
“He’s in a soul jar.” I told Oliver. “While the vessel it is in is custom-made, if broken it will find its way to the next empty vessel, which can be anything. If it’s stolen, I’m sure his army will try to get it someway. The scientists probably won’t be inclined to stay though, and I doubt any warlock will either.”
“Okay, so how about the suit? Even if it gets made, can’t it be defeated?” Oliver asked.
“One that combines magical, alien, and human technology all together?” Elaine’s voice was very condescending. “And with those ants with their alien-tech standing in front of it? It’s best we take it out before the soul.”
“Okay.” Lisa said. “Well, what about magic? Cooper’s magic? I mean, isn’t there something y’all were saying about them operating on a different wavelength than us? Something more powerful.”
“Yes, while magic is innate in our beings…” Elaine said. “Humans like Cooper or anybody else, take the magical energy of the Earth, while we are stuck with what we’re born with. Mostly, once in a blue moon some of us will be able to perform spells and potions, most will not. So, while some of us may be able to…enchant men to do our bidding…shift their forms into something else in the blink of an eye…defy all kinds of logic and reason and laws, we are restricted to our biology. Not wizards, warlocks, sorcerers, witches, or any other magic-user.”
“Okay, great.” Oliver said. “So, can’t you find others, I mean, it’s not restricted to America, is it? Surely there are Chinese or Russian or some foreign magic users that hate America or will be concerned about colonization.”
There was a silence, and a meaningful glance shared between Elaine and Clyde.
“It’s already remarkable with how many different species we have together, bringing magic-users into the fray would be most unusual.” Elaine answered.
“Well, isn’t this the time to risk it, and invite them?” I asked. “I mean, I’m sure there are tons that hate America.”
“That…will have to be discussed with the Leader, and soon.” Clyde said, the added under his breath, “It may be too late though.”
“We’ll talk quickly, how about some other ideas?” Elaine said, this time her interest was obvious in her voice now.
I glanced at Oliver, who was looking into the air, tapping his fingers against the table, deep in thought. I also tried to think, but a difference between me and Oliver emerged as I just said what came to my mind.
“What about putting all efforts on destroying the suit?” I asked. “I mean, if we just attack it, let the soldiers hit us, I’m sure if all dozens, thousand of us hit it at once it’d be sure to break.”
“Once again, it’s of magical, alien, and human technology. Hitting it isn’t the answer to all of this.” Elaine said.
“Listen, nothing is foolproof.” I said, “I mean, no matter how Italian, or how expensive the suit is, you can always find a loose thread, I mean, even Italians have their off-days. And if you can’t, a housewife from Connecticut will try to machine wash it and ruin it anyway.”
Oliver snorted, and Lisa swept in. “He’s right, you know, my daddy owns a company, and there’s always some worker who is breaking up with his girlfriend, or has a sick mom, or a son acting out, or is just tired, or is theorizing about some tv show, and if he’s doing such a monotonous task, something can just slip right by and he’ll mess it all up and you end up in a lawsuit and tons of passengers at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean. I know he has soldiers defending it and scientists planning, but who was doing the actual hand to hand labor?”
“Um…” Clyde spoke for all of us. “He did have these in his standard production factories, workers that didn’t know what they were making.”
“Let me guess, it was domestic made?” Oliver asked.
Clyde nodded and I laughed. “Okay, well, obviously its faulted in some way, we just need to check it out and find a weak spot.”
“We can’t just stroll in and check the suit.” Elaine said.
“But can’t we check how it was made?” I asked. “You know, if you all were able to duplicate our phones, can’t you break into their cameras?”
“We could.” Clyde said. “This is a…decent idea.”
“What about poising the water supplies?” Oliver asked.
“Oh, wow.” Lisa said. “Kind of escalating things there.”
“Yeah.” I agreed, shock filling me hearing what Oliver said. “I don’t want to kill anybody.”
“That’s an optimistic view of how this is going to happen.” Elaine scoffed at me. “This is a war, if you haven’t noticed.”
“Maybe it doesn’t have to be poison, just something, drugging them to sleep.” Oliver softened his stance. “If they’re incapacitated, we can just slide in, take the suit, or break it, or find a way to, have them miss the full moon, and get the league of foreign wizards to help us in the mean time, and be done.”
Elaine considered this. “We can bring that up.”
“I think we’re doing great work!” Lisa cheered. “Let’s see…anything else?”
“Not for now, Clyde and I need to present some of these ideas to her, and see how they work.”
I nodded. “Okay, cool, what can we do?”
“Allow Lisa to take you back to that condemned building, and wait until you’re useful again.” Elaine said. “Have fun.”
Chapter Text
Oliver and I were watching our legal drama, playing go-fish, though Oliver kept getting frustrated that the three of clubs was missing.
“It’s not…” Oliver grunted through gritted teeth before letting out an incomprehensible scream and slamming the table with his fist.
“I can feel you’re angry.” I said lightly, which caused him to smirk. “How about we talk about our plans?”
“What plans?” Oliver asked. “We’re going to be stuck in World War three or I’m going to get eaten by gargoyles, nothing we suggested had any value.”
“Not that.” I said, “And we are going to make it, I know it, I feel it. Let’s talk about what you want to do when we get back to normal, all this junk out of the way, what are we going to do the rest of the summer?”
“Cooper…”
“No, we’re going to make it. Now as…boyfriends, what are we going to do? What are we going to do to show the world we’re feliz, and open, and excited?”
Oliver’s frown slowly turned into a smirk. He shot his eyes upward and began thinking. “Well, let’s see…first, I want to spend a week back at home, sitting on the living room couch, with you, and the rest of my family, readjusting to normalcy.”
“How extravagant.” I joked. “That’ll be fine for one week, but come on, amigo, I want to do something, crazy, and wild, that you know doesn’t cause us existential threats. You know how many things I wanted to do with you already that your mom wouldn’t let me? Now that we’re dating, she won’t stop me now.”
“Well, let me think.” Oliver said. “You know, I think I want to be surprised, I want to see how good you’ve been listening to me.”
I nodded. “You know that hasn’t been a lot. But I’m going to guess you want to keep your family at home, right?”
Oliver laughed, such a wonderful sound. I noticed a blush spread over his cheeks when I thought that thought; we were going to have to do something to work on that.
“Yeah, definitely.” Oliver said. “Yes, on both things you just said.”
“Well, you don’t want to be anywhere with too many people…and you don’t want to be anywhere near nature…wow, hombre, you’re really picky.”
Oliver laughed and a memory hit me, so fast I didn’t have to time to think of it.
“Oh my gosh, easy, Disney, we’ll fly right to Disney World after our week of couch-sitting!” I cheered. “I’ll rent the park after hours, so no people, we’ll do a different park every night, it’ll be great! And Universal! And whatever else Orlando has.”
Oliver laughed. “What makes you think, me, would want to go to Disney World?”
“You told me when we were drunk in the basement one time.” I smiled at the memory. “And I know you’ll love the Wizarding World stuff at Universal, we’ll go there too.”
Oliver smiled, but I could feel a sudden surge of guilt hitting him, which soon hit me. “What is it?”
“You know, I just…I feel like we should give something back, find a way to help, with Jillian, and Gabriel, and something for Vicki.”
I nodded. “We could give to Gabriel’s organization? You know, I don’t know exactly how much I could donate to still qualify as a rich person, but I’m willing to.”
Oliver smiled. “I think that’s a good idea. And you know, I don’t want to be around everybody, especially angry families from hick towns or Europeans that don’t understand America, but…I don’t think I want to do Disney World at night. After all of this, you know, it feels…”
“Spoiled?” I asked. Oliver nodded. I shrugged. “Yeah, I guess you’re right, I do wonder how it’s like to go to Disney with normies there will be.”
Oliver laughed, but before any other plans could be made the non-bathroom door opened, revealing Lisa holding the shackles again, with Elaine and Clyde behind her.
“Good news!” Lisa cheered, rattling the chains. “We’re going to start our plan!”
Lisa took a seat on the bed and Clyde laid down on his back legs after putting some books on the table, while Elaine stood at the table, setting up a laptop and projector.
“Shouldn’t there be more than just you three if we’re trying to stop this?” Oliver asked, grabbing a book and leafing through it.
“We’re the only ones willing to work with you.” Elaine explained. “But we do have some good news.”
“Why are you setting up here?” I asked. “Not that I really want to walk that shame walk…thing again.”
“The action we’ll be taking will be here in Los Angeles.” Elaine answered. “To go through the portal would be another trip, just more waste of time.”
“And travelling through another dimension is a lot of energy.” I told Oliver.
“That building is in Montana, not another dimension.” Lisa said.
“Montana?” I asked. “Like Hannah?”
“Perfect place, I wouldn’t have suspected anything there.” Oliver said. In addition to the typical annoyance and fear that Oliver was experiencing, there was a renewed sense of curiosity and concentration as he looked through the books.
On the wall Elaine projected a map of the world, with little tags on multiple areas. “Alright, let’s move on. We have been in high contact with other magic-users from other countries, and they are working with us to find weaknesses and plans. Which is fairly surprising for us, given how untrustworthy they are known for.”
The tone was obviously aimed at me, and I could feel Oliver’s anger raging inside of him. Instead of saying anything, he reached over and grabbed my hand, and I felt just a little better about myself.
“We have also done reviews of your great-uncle’s companies.” Clyde picked up the conversation. “It seems like one of his buildings here, just an hour away from here, was where most of production on the suit took place. However, if we are able to get into the office of his apartment, we may be able to download all the footage from all of his locations, then we can watch it and see if there are any flaws in the structure, any lazy workers.”
“I’m assuming you’ll have a way to watch all of this footage quickly, right?” Oliver asked. “And this doesn’t seem like something magical beasts need our help to do.”
“We can enter the buildings under General Cushing’s ownership, we even copied the keys, however, magical creatures will set off an alarm, and there are mercenaries situated less than a mile from the opening. So, it will need to be you two to enter it.”
“Listen, neither of us know how to hack, unless there is a computer there that does it for us, and are we really expected to be putting ourselves in danger with no defense?”
“We’ll take off the gauntlets.” Elaine explained. “Then Cooper will make a portal to bring in one of our tech experts in, simple as that.”
“I’m…the tech expert.” Clyde said bashfully, and I could feel painful embarrassment coming from him.
I nodded. “Okay, that sounds excellente!” I cheered. “Is there anything else we’re going to do?”
“We’re finding a team to find a way to infiltrate their water, or something else in the team, so we’ll let you know about that.” Clyde said. “We are having trouble working the logistics.”
“Why does Lisa have the shackles?” Oliver asked. “And, no offense to him, but Cooper almost died doing some spells, and that rock you gave him is now brown.”
“I like them.” Lisa said, shaking the chains. “And we’ve got more rocks to last a while.”
I nodded. “Okay, so, are you ready Oliver?”
“I’d feel better if I had some abilities myself, but…I guess.” Oliver said.
“Great, so is somebody going to drive us?” I asked.
Chapter Text
I felt the magic surging through my veins as the gauntlets were removed from my wrists and ankles. Unlike the first time when I felt it return to my being, rattling wildly within me and in danger, I was in relatively safety sitting in a van, approaching my uncle’s Los Angeles apartment, and had time to examine the power. I can’t believe I had lived without it; it felt so necessary, like the very energy that gets you out of bed, like the air in your lungs. I can’t believe I ever really went without it like this, I can’t imagine going back to life without it as a part of me.
“It’s great that I have some defensive now.” I said, “But shouldn’t I be getting my wand, or a wand?”
“You had a specific wand?” Oliver asked, looking up from those books of spells and potions Clyde had brought, that Oliver had brought with him in the van.
I nodded. “Yeah, it was one of my teacher’s, they gifted it to me.”
“We don’t have access to your old one.” Elaine said. “And in addition, we still don’t trust you completely.”
Elaine and Lisa were in the front seat, while Oliver and I were in the back. It was midday, the sun nice and shining, the air warm and dry, it would be a nice day if we weren’t engaging in espionage.
“Okay, that’s a Luca word.” Oliver chuckled.
I laughed too, but Elaine gave a snap to stop us.
“Okay, boys, we need to make haste. Just one more time, can you tell us what we are doing?”
“We’re going to walk through the lobby. Cooper casts a spell on the cameras. I check people’s minds to see if they express shock that we’re there, and Cooper will do a spell to keep them from talking.” Oliver said. “He makes a portal, and Clyde comes in.”
“Oh, I want to come too!” Lisa complained. She turned and looked at us; she was wearing a big black hat, glasses, and a scarf that covered most of her face, in addition to everything else being covered. She was unable to though, as she and Elaine were going to be standing guard, just in case.
“After Clyde comes in, does his work.” Oliver continued. “Cooper makes another portal and we go through it.”
Elaine smiled. “Great, now, you two go in.”
I looked at Oliver, who looked at me too. The two of us were nervous, and full of dread, but we were both masking it fairly well, I felt, especially considering his feelings and my thoughts were bouncing off one another.
Oliver opened the door and we both slid out, him holding the book he had brought. Elaine was skidding away as we started walking towards the apartment’s front door. Trying to put on an air of relaxation and calmness and trying to appear casual as we walked.
The air conditioner hit us as we walked in, feeling nice after the summer California climate, and I whispered under my breath. “Vitrum oculos gelu.” It should take care of the whole building. We looked at the doorman as we passed him, sitting at his station, confusion coming off of him.
We walked across the floor to the elevator, and I couldn’t tell if I was feeling fear from myself or from the doorman or Oliver, but it was increasing, and I felt my stomach clench, my chest grow tighter, my head tingle.
When the elevators closed, I turned to Oliver.
“So, did you hear anything?” I asked.
Oliver shook his head. “I couldn’t hear much from him, I had somebody panicking right in my ear, a certain Bradford freaking out. But no, I couldn’t tell. He said, oh there’s those boys, and started thinking about which Scooby-Doo episodes involve real monsters.”
“Oh my gosh, we were talking about that!”
Oliver smiled at me, and I felt love replacing all annoyance, fear, and anger he had. In a sudden movement, I felt his lips connect to mine, hands gripping the back of my head.
It was over too quickly when Oliver pulled away from me with a smirk, and I felt a stupid smile on my face and my face burning.
“That got rid of the thoughts for a moment.” Oliver said as the elevator doors opened to the General’s floor. We walked into the apartment, just as abandoned and plain as it was when we visited a few days before, with a couple of things that made it seem lived in, and a couple of personal characteristics to the place.
I walked behind the couch, finding a large clearing without any furniture. I held my hands up and took a deep breath. “Ssinus homo videtur.”
Dark purple sprung from my fingertips, lightning bolts shooting across the room, stopping about ten feet in front of me. The purple swirled together, making something of a solid structure, filling it out so it would work as a portal for Clyde.
The color stopped and I took a step back, admiring as Clyde stepped through.
Clyde looked around, his eyes worried and concerned; I felt sick to my stomach, sweat pooled around my forehead. I couldn’t tell if it was just the nature of Clyde, or if I was feeling that tired already.
Oliver came over to me, and led me to the couch, rubbing my back. It all looked blurry, and I wanted nothing more than to nap. I reached into my pocket, the rock no longer a bright gold, but much more similar in shade to bronze.
“It’s alright.” Oliver said trying to soothe me.
“I’ll find the office.” Clyde awkwardly stuttered.
“I’m fine, really.” I said, and it was becoming truer every second. My vision had cleared, and my breathing had regulated. A few more spells and I would feel sick again, but I was getting more into the groove of thing.
Still, being with Oliver was nice, and we weren’t going to get much rest if things went south. I put my head on Oliver’s shoulder. “Read some of that to me.”
Oliver made a face. “You’re interested in potions?”
I shook my head. “No, never liked them. But I like hearing your voice.”
Oliver smirked and opened the book.
Listening to Oliver’s tongue try speaking in Latin, in the dry, analytical way it usually did, may have turned some others off from the language, but to me it had reenergized my interest in the dead language, and I felt peaceful and calm.
We sat there for ten minutes or so, but by then all my energy had returned and I was feeling restless just sitting there. We stood up and walked to where we heard Clyde’s clacking coming from, seeing him sitting at a desk, hunched over, typing very quickly.
“Do you need any help?” I asked.
“Um…I really don’t think so.” The guilt was evident off of Clyde, as well high levels of concentration that was tapering as we stood there. “It’s going okay…”
“Okay, sorry if we’re distracting you, we’ll go back.” I said, grabbing Oliver’s wrist.
“No, it’s okay.” Clyde gave us a smile. “Sorry, I’m just a little, not used to talking to humans.”
“Oh, well, we’re two normal guys, if you ignore that he’s a billionaire.” Oliver said. “You know, this last week is mostly the exception.”
Clyde smiled, then turned to the computer, I wanted to talk to him, but he was busy, still I felt that he enjoyed our company being there. I couldn’t focus on it too much though, because then the door to the apartment opened, sending a shiver down my back and an alertness to all of us.
“How close are you?” Oliver whispered. “Don’t talk, only think.”
Clyde’s fingers hovered over the keys, afraid to make any sound. He looked petrified, like he was stuck in a block of ice. Oliver looked at me and mouthed ‘five minutes.’
I nodded. Okay, I got it. Oliver, stay here.
“Yeah, sure.” Oliver whispered, but I could feel he was lying, not that his eye roll wasn’t already enough of a clue.
Amigo, I’m serious, stay.
“No, and you need to make a portal for Clyde so he can get through, if we’re caught the distraction can buy Clyde enough time to finish.”
If we’re caught, we’re probably shot.
“Now who’s being negative.” Oliver reprimanded.
I shook my head, but smirked. Oliver was going with me. Of course, I could knock him out and tell Clyde to take him, but then that would be two spells, and judging from the stone I would get tired too fast.
It was a bit cramped in the office, but I stood in front of the closet and whispered. “Salus unius.”
The energy came out of my hands and once again formed a wall. It was faster and easier on me this time, probably because I had specified it be just for one person.
I looked at Oliver, who shrugged. I could feel a big ball of fear and terror coming from him, but it was wrapped in a tight, thin layer of bravery.
We walked into the hallway, and I could hear heels hitting against the hardwood floor, getting louder and louder as whoever came closer to us.
“Defensus ignis.” I whispered as quietly as I could manage. Orange flames sprouted just above my palms, and hovered there, growing in size as we stood there, waiting for whoever to come to us.
She rounded the corner, a look of annoyance turning into one of shock as she spotted us, her feelings matching her looks. She was wearing a suit still, but a more casual one than we had seen her in Connecticut, her black hair was curled a bit, and she was holding a pistol.
“Mr. Bradford, Mr. Otto.” Ms. Mendez said gruffly. “I didn’t expect to see you again.” She had her gun pointed down, so I kept the flames in my hand.
“Yeah, you expected us dead, didn’t you?” Oliver asked.
“I knew the chances of reading the will were slim.” Ms. Mendez admitted. “My duties for General Cushing have been limited, lately.”
“Well, that’s expected, he was supposed to be dead.” Oliver scoffed.
“Okay, let’s be calm nobody has to be hurt.” I said, “How about we get rid of weapons?”
“Mr. Bradford, I have no intention of hurting anybody.” Ms. Mendez said in a formal, almost bored voice.
I looked at Oliver, who gave me a shrug with a tiny nod. This was too be expected, Oliver has been reading minds for less than two days and it didn’t seem like it was an easy skill.
“Then what do you want?” I asked. “How did you know we were here?”
“I didn’t, I’ve been staying here until I get the affirmative from General Cushing. Then I smelt what I thought was a donkey. I’m guessing that it was an onocentaur?”
“What are you?” Oliver asked. “Are you one of his magic-users? Or a scientist or soldier?”
“I’m just a lawyer, I don’t care about his manifesto, it’s awfully dull to me.” Ms. Mendez said. “But you pick up a few things working with him about all of this world.”
I nodded, feeling dull boredom from her. “Okay, so what should we do now?”
Ms. Mendez raised an eyebrow, her gaze looking at me. Boredom and annoyance wafted from her, like this was a walk through the airport instead of what we were going through.
“You do what you need to do, and I’ll go into the master bedroom and take a nap.” Ms. Mendez offered.
“So you can call the General or his soldiers?” Oliver asked with a sarcastic laugh.
“Like I said, I don’t care about the General’s plans either way, it doesn’t affect me.” Ms. Mendez answered. “You can finish whatever you need to do, and I’ll say I never saw you.”
“Aren’t you afraid of lying to them?” I asked.
“I’m a lawyer, I’ve got it.” Ms. Mendez answered.
“What do you mean, this doesn’t affect you? It’s pretty bad what he’s doing.” Oliver said. “It’s genocidal and colonization.”
“Yeah, aren’t you Hispanic? Or a Latina? Don’t you have relatives in other countries?” I asked.
“Cooper!” Oliver hissed.
“What?” I asked. “All the servants did.”
“Okay.” Ms. Mendez dropped the pistol and held her hands up. “I’ll stay here and let you finish what you need to do? Do you need help?”
“Why don’t you care?” Oliver asked. “Why do this if you don’t believe in this?”
“Nothing matters, not this. Not anything, really. I just have a job to do, and the job doesn’t have to do with tracking you two down, or bringing you in.” Ms. Mendez said. “There are beasts that have lived thousands of generations, been here since the dawn of time. If General Cushing told me to get you, that would be one thing, but he didn’t, so for now, I just don’t care.”
I tried to think of something, wanting to argue, this was…mean. Then again, I wasn’t any better, I remember the delight, the pleasure it got from trapping the monsters, from watching their pain and tears as they were torn from their lives.
“No, Cooper, stop.” Oliver said. “You’re trying, now that you’re whole, you’re trying to do the right thing.”
Confusion hit me from Ms. Mendez, but it quickly faded. I felt the fire from my hands begin to flicker and fade slightly.
“Oliver, just check if he’s done.” I said, turning to Oliver. Confliction arose, but he nodded and started jogging.
“I take it you’re trying to stop his plans, with your humanitarian talk?” Ms. Mendez asked.
I nodded. “We’re trying.”
“Do you remember it? The other life.”
I nodded. “Pretty well.”
“Like I said, I don’t care about this. I thought Luca would have been shocked at the truth, but he was so misanthropic I didn’t think he’d shy from helping, and from what I heard, I didn’t think Cooper would be brave enough to help.” Ms. Mendez said. “Had you pegged wrong, sorry.”
I thought back, realizing I had met her, briefly as Luca. It’s hard to navigate through all my memories, a whole four years hitting you at once was such a brain surge. I felt fear punch me in the gut as I remembered another person and their true persona.
“Just a word of advice.” Ms. Mendez said. “If you end up in a predicament like this with Marian. Don’t hold your fire.”
I nodded, already remembering that, remembering what Marian was capable of.
Oliver came back to the room quickly. “He’s gone and so is the portal.”
I nodded, feeling some relief. “Okay, we’re going, and you’re staying, right?”
“Like I said, this is not my problem.”
I felt disgust from Oliver, and guilt from myself, knowing I was worse, and also fear, knowing we were up against Marian.
Chapter Text
“So Marian is a badass?” Oliver asked, a bemused look of disbelief on his face.
“She’s a master strategist and is obsessed with the General.” I replied. “Word was she had been his personal assistant for decades, and was waiting for his wife to die, hoping he’d marry her. I don’t think he ever took it up, but she was too loyal and loco to leave, and she’s a sadist.”
“What about her is so scary?” Oliver laughed.
“She’ll torture people, she planned a lot of the tortures over the years, and bombings, and stealth killing.”
“That old woman?” Oliver scoffed.
“Dude, I’m telling you that she-.”
“Boys, please be quiet.” Elaine sang out, and Oliver and I immediately closed our mouths.
We were with Elaine, Lisa, and Clyde, back in the condemned building, sitting in a moderately nice room. The room had tables and chairs, and outlets, and that was about it in there. We were waiting for magic-users to come by; Clyde having set up the equipment for them to work on, looking to find any weakness in the suit’s structure.
“Don’t listen to her boys.” Lisa said, waving her off. “We’re all excited about this coming to an end soon, ooh, I can’t wait to get back to my group and forget all about this war stuff.”
“If we’re successful.” Elaine said. “You three can go back to your lives, live the rest of your days, doing whatever it is that will bring you your happiness.”
“What about you guys?” I asked. “Clyde?”
“I’ll be-
“He and I will be staying with the Leader.” Elaine answered and shot Clyde a sweet smile.
“What else are you going to do after this, if you defeat him?” Oliver asked.
“That really isn’t your concern.” Elaine said.
Soon we heard zaps and booms and all the sound of magic users coming into the building. I stood up straighter and caught a wave of nervousness from all those around me.
Smugness hit me before any of them came to the room, though there was also a bit of nervousness and anger, though I couldn’t decide if this was all of their feelings, or if there were just scant few that weren’t absolutely conceited with themselves.
I counted twelve as they walked in, six men, five women, and one little boy who didn’t look over eight, though this could have been something manipulative he had done, some liked to stay young. It seemed like all races were represented by this small sample, and from their speaking in the hall it seemed like a bunch of languages were coming through, and none had trouble understanding one another.
They took seats around the room, like they owned the room, not that I had much room to criticize with my own method. It was soon clear that they weren’t going to stop their conversations, and they didn’t seem as troubled as they should have.
“Intellegamus.” I uttered as I waved my hands around, earning annoyed glares from the other magic-users in the room and smiles from Clyde, Lisa, and Elaine, each looking different, Clyde’s shy, Lisa’s giddy, and Elaine’s proud. This spell would allow us to understand one another, like a live dub playing over us.
“Thank you, Cooper.” Elaine said. “Anyway, Clyde here has the video footage, what is it you want to do with it?”
“I’ll take a look.” The little boy walked up to the laptop. He was joined by a few others, and they began looking through it, Clyde stepping to the side.
“How has the idea of looking to um…tamper, with the water gone?” Lisa asked.
“We could create a potion, with our combined efforts, but is it really wise to risk all of California? Or wherever this water can spread?” An older woman spoke up, dressed in a casual dress and smelling like rust, looking like she was using two wands to knit a sweater.
“And what kind of potion would we use, the group we’re taking down is too wide, we can’t cast it off of a specific age, race, or gender, and not to mention we would be killing millions of innocent citizens.” A man in his thirties said, wearing a tank-top, board shorts, and flip flops, tight golden curls on his head.
“This is supposed to be a non-lethal potion.” Oliver said.
“And can’t y’all do it off ideology? Like, aren’t y’all magic.” Lisa asked.
“Our potions have limits.” Knitter said.
“What about the Ebigane potion?” Oliver asked.
“That? Do you know how many creatures’ hairs, nails, and teeth we would have to pluck, and tails snip?” The Surfer scoffed.
“Really, we don’t have time to go on a hunt like that.” Knitter said politely.
“I saw all of those creatures working in the facility.” Oliver said. “They’re all right there, and it isn’t fatal for any of them, why not do that?”
“With those animals?” Little boy laughed sarcastically, “Get real, they don’t have any understanding of what’s happening.”
“Um, do you mind? We have a donkey-man here.” Lisa said sternly.
“Besides, do you know how much of all of that you need to make a potion that won’t dissipate in the water?” Surfer asked, ignoring Lisa. “You’d have to cut dozens of gorgons hairs to get enough.”
“And all that does is put them into a temporary coma.” Knitter said. “Hardly worth the effort.”
“Well, I think it’s an option.” I said, “Because we aren’t trying to matar anybody.”
“Just torture and imprison them, right?” Knitter said, and I felt a rush of shame spread over me, turning my face red.
“Hey, he was split in two.” Lisa said.
“Yeah, he was a fifteen-year-old being groomed by a retired US army general.” Oliver said.
“From the stories he seemed to be a teensy bit of a sociopath.” Surfer said.
“Hey, you don’t get to talk about him like that, you know nothing about Cooper Bradford.” Oliver said.
“And who are you, his useless boyfriend?” Surfer asked.
“Okay, I’m sorry, but dude, you’re way mean to be talking like a surfer.” Lisa said. “Besides, you don’t exactly have the body for that tank top.”
“Oliver, Cooper, please leave.” Elaine said, not in her mystical voice, but in a stern serious one. “Please go back in your room, Lisa place the gauntlets back onto Cooper.”
I looked around the room, feeling embarrassed, ashamed. Oliver rolled his eyes and dramatically stood up, I followed him, and Lisa went behind me.
“[Bleep] those guys, Cooper, they suck.” Oliver said, once we were in the hall. “You know, I could hear them, all pricks.”
“Okay, guys, let’s be calm.” Lisa said. “And not too depressed.” She slid the gauntlets back over my wrists, then dropped and put a pair on my ankles.
“Don’t we need to do everything we can?” Oliver asked. “I mean, with all these resources, can’t we just try it?”
I nodded. “Yeah, you’re right, you know if the person who brews the potion has a clear, conscience thought, it will be alright and work out bueno as they want.”
“Could you cast it?” Oliver asked.
I thought about it. I could, in idea, though I was never good at potions, or chemistry for that matter. It’s odd, I like to cook and bake, but my potions were always a little fuzzy, never completely solid.
“Uh guys, I don’t think y’all should be talking about all of this right in front of me.” Lisa said. “I do not think it is exactly a smart thing, you know I am with this organization, even those wizards.”
“They’re dicks.” Oliver said.
“I think you’re letting your feelings blind you a bit Olly.” Lisa said.
“Nope, don’t like that.” Oliver said. “Don’t call me that.”
“Okay, well if I may add, I think it would be best to keep your criticisms of these reality-warpers under wraps until we get y’all into the room.”
We closed our mouths, and I thought about what we would need to brew this potion. Lisa may get us a cauldron, but I doubt she would go as far as to take my gauntlets off, leaving any potion null.
It hit me when we were in the room.
“Oliver can brew the potion!” I said, “Lisa you can get all of the stuff, and a cauldron, and I’ll walk him through it!”
“Cooper, I’m not a wizard.” Oliver said. “I don’t think, it’s kind of hard keeping up with everything though, honestly.”
“You can be, everybody can develop the ability!” I said, “And you’re a telepath and a medium, so there’s stuff going on in you!”
Oliver considered this, and I could tell excitement was building and growing from him, probably his Harry Potter dream. It wasn’t two minutes before he was excited and giddy.
“I guess I could ask the Leader.” Lisa answered Oliver’s demands reluctantly.
“If you can’t get to her, you’ve got to ask all of them yourself.” Oliver said. “Here, I’ll write the ingredients.”
Oliver hurried to the box, grabbing a pen from the Clue game and some paper, running back to the desk and flipping to a book.
I smiled, feeling proud of Oliver, then frowned because we were planning on tampering with water for citizens, not just the General’s group, and this wasn’t exactly a great thing morally.
Chapter Text
An hour and a half later, Lisa came in, her aura stench with fear and guilt, carrying a huge cauldron in one hand, balancing two suitcases in her other hands.
“It took a lot.” Lisa huffed out, “But, I’m pretty sure I’ve got it all here.”
Oliver and I then went to work, him dropping each ounce of ingredients into the cauldron, pouring water from our shower into it, and spinning it with one of the legs from the table that Lisa ripped off for us. We had filled up the cauldron five times, creating over a hundred gallons of it, Lisa having to run out and pick up over a thousand bottles, using her speed to quickly capture every ounce of the potion into the bottles, sealing them tightly.
We stood with them, covering every inch of the bathroom floor and overflowing into the bedroom; I felt pride, not just in myself, but also emitting from Oliver and Lisa.
“Okay, this will work, won’t it?” Oliver asked. He didn’t wait for an answer. “Go and get the leader.”
“I don’t know, she seemed busy, and not like she cared.” Lisa said, and I felt her uncertainty return. “It was you know, similar to what we used to do at vacation bible school, when sixth graders tried to help us, but we just made them do busy work, so they wouldn’t bother us.”
“That doesn’t seem very Christiany.” I commented.
“Lisa, just go, get her.” Oliver said.
Lisa sighed, and gave us a forced grin, before running off.
I turned to Oliver and smiled, grabbing his hands, rubbing my thumbs over the back of his hands. “You did so well amigo, especially a big load for someone who hasn’t ever done it before.”
Oliver shrugged. “Well, it may not work. It could just be a bunch of liquid crap, and a waste of our time, I mean, we didn’t even check if I have any ability.”
“I’m sure it’ll be great, Oliver, I know this is a great plan, you came up with it.” I said, “And you have potential, I can feel it.”
Oliver smiled. “Well, I couldn’t have done it without you holding my hand through it all.”
The Leader walked through the door and looked at the bottles on the ground, a look of amusement on her face. She crossed her arms and looked at us and sighed.
“So, you’ve got this all?” The Leader gave a little shrug. “Well, what do you want, to take this and put it in the water system? What is the objective of this potion anyway?”
I nodded. “Si, it’ll work, it only lasts a few hours, allergies are like, non-existence, and it can get to them and leave them susceptible so we can destroy the suit better. It makes them fall asleep, after six hours.”
The Leader looked at the bottles, picking one up to examine it, waving her hand over it. It was then I realized, I didn’t know what she was feeling, and I didn’t know what she was, I didn’t know what kind of creature, or being, or species she was; she didn’t look entirely foreign, but her stature and power was different. She wasn’t any creature I had seen before, and my teachers were pretty extensive in their teachings.
“Do you boys know where to go?” The Leader asked, knocking me from my thoughts. “I mean, this could get civilians, driving, or cooking, or doing something serious, and you’re just going to drop it in any old place?”
“Yeah, there’s a reservoir close to his mansion that will get delivered there, if we dump the bottles in there, we got it.” Oliver said. “And there are stipulations in the potions brew, it is ineffective on those who are responsible for another’s life.”
The Leader considered this and smiled, shrugging her shoulders a bit. “If you can be done with this within two hours, I’ll allow it. Lisa will take you two.”
“I will?”
“Yes, but those gauntlets are to remain on, and you need to get some for Oliver now, as it appears.”
Lisa looked at Oliver, who gave one determined nod.
“They need something to protect them, what if that army is there?”
The Leader reached into her pockets, pulling out two bottles, both the size of cans, orange liquid glowing brightly.
“Will make you resistant to any physical trauma. Only one go, if you think you’re in danger, drink it all.”
“Thanks.” Oliver said, grabbing a bottle, looking skeptical.
“Gracias.” I shoved the bottle into my pocket and smiled.
“Alright, well I’m glad that this will go well.” The Leader’s voice was pleasant, but she undeniably had something up her sleeve.
Chapter Text
Lisa, Oliver, and I sat in the van, Lisa driving us slowly. The sun had set, quite a while ago, which was good for Lisa, it having taken hours for us to fill up the bottles and it being much later now that we were out once again.
I looked at the California night, my first one with Oliver now that we were officially together, the dark sky, the bright city lights in the distance. It should have been better, much more romantic, I should have been out there in the sunset with him, doing something nicer than riding in this disgusting van, Oliver deserved so much better.
“You’ll make it up to me.” Oliver said. “You know how much money I want in my stockings.”
I blushed, remembering once again he was reading my mind. Oliver reached over and grabbed my hand, using his thumb to caress my hand, his big, soft, warm brown eyes staring at me.
“Hey, y’all need to stop having your telepathic cutesy crap, I’m here, and y’all are supposed to be explaining what the differences between wizards and warlocks are?”
“Okay.” I began, still holding onto Oliver’s hand, “Uno, pretty much anybody can become a magic user, there’s very, very few number of people that aren’t able to do it, they just have to actually believe, and be trained, and know potions or spells. When you can do simple things, like sleight of hand, disappear in a blink, parlor tricks that are a little more than just that, you’re a magician. Like, a normal one, but when you have just the hint of magic, you’re still a magician, so many people don’t even know they’re doing it. When you can do potions or spells intentionally, you’re a wizard.”
“What about warlocks and witches?”
“That’s the next level.” I answered. “When you home in on your skill and are able to create something out of thin air, you’re officially a witch. Or a warlock; some people believe it’s a difference between gender, men warlock, female witches, or personal affiliation, good witches or evil warlock, but really, they’re interchangeable.”
“We prefer warlocks.” Oliver said.
“I don’t think you’re quite there yet, buddy boy.” Lisa said.
“Then, when you are able to reach another level, one beyond conjuring matter, able to shift to other dimensions or times, they’re sorcerers.” I said, “Although, there are tons of peoples that don’t subscribe to that hierarchy, and just call themselves whatever.”
“Well, that makes, enough, sense to me, you know at church, Vampire Baptists, not regular Baptists, they were talking about string-ghoulie, or something, some kind of specific vampire…I don’t know, I wasn’t really understanding. I’ll just call myself a vampire, for now at least.”
“For now?” I asked. “Have you found that cure?”
Lisa shook her head. “No, but I’ve got a bit of a hunch, a lead, and don’t bother reading my mind Oliver, I am reciting the books of the Bible up there.”
I turned to Oliver, who nodded his head.
“Do you really want to be a normal human again?” Oliver asked. “I mean, you can be young forever, you’ll probably be rich, I mean in just a few decades you’ll probably be rich.”
“Yeah, and you can turn to mist and bats, and fly, and compel people.” I offered.
“I don’t care about all of that.” Lisa replied. “It’s not natural. Sometimes I wonder if I’m not even Lisa, just a demon, or her carcass with her memories, a hellbound demon working for Satan.”
“Lisa that’s not true, I mean in all the libros my teachers made me read, it was pretty solid about vampires being the same in terms soul.”
“Well, even if that’s true, I still don’t like it. I don’t like it; I don’t like anything about it. I can’t have kids, I’ve always wanted to be a mom, and now it’s just dried like a raisin up there. I can’t really adopt, because I’m not even a person according to the government. I can’t visit my family, I had to watch them mourn me, and suffer. I missed my brother Tom’s wedding, my cousin Mona’s graduation, I’m going to miss my parent’s…everything else. I’ll live forever or die horribly. I can’t even get a tan anymore.”
Lisa sniffled a little, then did it harder, trying to pass it off, though her grief was heavy, for her life from before, a life that she was close to, but wouldn’t really get back.
I felt sick; I felt grief too, sorrow for her, and also a feeling of selfish sorrow for myself. I knew it wasn’t the same, not at all, but I missed a lot of things of my life that I wasn’t getting back, from a life before.
I missed being the Cooper Bradford, richest kid in Westport, could get anything at the snap of his fingers. I missed people wanting to do things for me, giving me attention, and favors, and compliments. I missed being so ignorant that I thought all of that was nice, was something that made me important, valuable. In my mind then, I was important, and offering a service to society. I know I was better off without that entitlement, but some of me still missed it, missed the pretense of my parents caring about me. Now it was no contact, nothing, not even a bother.
I also missed being Luca, which I definitely shouldn’t, but I missed being needed, being valuable, being so centered on. As Cooper I was always Doyle and Christie’s son first and foremost, then Oliver’s best friend, I liked the individuality of being Luca. And now, I was missing it when the two of us were different, and Cooper didn’t have to live in a world inhabited with ghosts, demons, monsters, and aliens, and Luca didn’t have any morals or feelings, or a conscience.
I tried not to think in tangible thoughts, I didn’t want to worry Oliver, or make him have to comfort me, so I tried to keep everything loose and lofty, and incomprehensible. Everything that was a solid thought, I tried to bounce around so I didn’t leave Oliver anything to worry about.
I looked back at the window, the night being so final, so dark, so empty. An ending, a finale, one of many. I had loved looking at the dark sky over cities numerous times, but it didn’t seem very beautiful anymore.
I looked at it, trying to find something to comfort Lisa, and something to comfort myself, something that would make us feel better, and happier.
“Cooper, look!” Oliver shouted, pointing at a billboard. “Quiz, q! I’ve got it, I’m ahead.”
I looked at Oliver. This wasn’t the strangest thing I had seen this weekend, but he may as well have split his head open and sprouted a rainbow because I didn’t know what the hell he was talking about.
“The alphabet game, remember.” Oliver said, a smile on his face, unlike him. I smiled, feeling giddiness, but also relief, and worry. Oliver shouted that, trying to change the subject off of Lisa, and give her some of her pride. Oliver gave me a nod, confirming my thoughts.
“Oh my gosh! I love that game; we played it all the time on road trips when we visited my cousins in Massachusetts!” Lisa cheered, her voice still having a fragile quality to it. “Y’all on q?”
“Si,” I said, “but Oliver’s probably going to get to z any time now.”
“Oh no he won’t, he’ll get stuck on x. Y’all mind if I play?”
“Yeah, go ahead.” I cheered, hoping this would make her temporarily forget about this, while also wondering what her lead that she claimed to have was.
Chapter Text
July 13th, 2022
Emptying the bottles went by without a hitch, it was so big and unguarded and just as easy as emptying a bottle Oliver and I both dropped about a hundred in, while Lisa did the other eight hundred bottles. It was hard to believe that those gallons of water, just a drop in the reservoir would sprinkle in and mix with the regular water, and be effective. The bright color was diluting, dimming as it mixed into the water, blending in so well and disappearing.
The whole time I couldn’t stop glancing up at the moon, almost completely full. It was already the day according to the time; it was just the matter of a day to pass for my great-uncle to try and enact his plan. I felt sick, and horrible, and trying to hold onto him.
When we arrived back at the building, we found Elaine, Clyde, and the Leader waiting for us. Elaine gave off worry, Clyde even more than her, while Elaine didn’t give anything, though she looked a bit terser than she had.
“I’m glad you three are back.” The Leader said. “Now, we have good news, and we also have bad news.”
“Great, good news!” I cheered.
“Did you miss the second half of that sentence?” Oliver asked.
“Now, you see the magic users were able to find a weakness. Apparently one factory line’s leader was a bit distracted one day, when they were creating the left foot to the suit. The workers strayed a bit, and while it is still in the need of a lot of pressure on it, if hit hard enough it can be damaged, leaving the suit unwearable, their mission’s purpose dead, and us ready to attack, and end the mission once and for all.”
“That’s so bueno, we’re set!” I couldn’t believe it, we had it, with all our power this was going to be a snap, and we were going to be able to go onto our life, Oliver and I back in Westport, then Harvard, living it up.
“What’s the bad news?” Oliver asked.
“We won’t be able to get to the suit.” Elaine answered.
It was like a balloon deflating, joy and hope fizzing away, dashed and gone, dreams crushed. I could feel it from myself, Oliver, and Lisa.
“There’s a border, uncrossable for magical creatures, meaning none of us, and dozens of our operatives unable to cross the field and get there, meaning we won’t be able to make it there.”
“So, what, that’s it?” Lisa asked. “After what they did to me, and all of those other people, and what they want to do to all of those other countries? We can’t do anything?”
“No, we still have a plan, with you, Lisa, and Oliver and Cooper.” The Leader said.
“What is it?” I asked. “We’re ready to do it.”
“Great.” Elaine chimed in.
“Why us?” Oliver asked. “Why only us?”
“There’s been a field around, impenetrable as far as we can find it, no creature born magical is able to infiltrate the place.” Elaine answered. “Our magic-users have been trying to figure out a way to it, but from the combination of different cultures’ unique magic systems have created a complex spell.”
“So, us, who have foreign magic-users, can’t figure it out from Mr. Patriot act?” Oliver asked.
“The General enlisted many magic-users from different cultures, as long as that culture had a hyphen and American behind of it.” Elaine answered. “Native-American, Asian-American, Mexican-American…as long as they were two generations deep, he enlisted them.”
“Oh great, he’s Mr. International now.” Oliver said. “But why us, I brewed a potion, Cooper’s a warlock, she’s a vampire, that’s pretty magical.”
“None of us were born mundane.” Clyde answered. “You three were all born mundane. Normal, for lack of a better term, you’re natural, grandfathered in to be able to cross the threshold.”
“So shouldn’t there be others?” Oliver asked. “Werewolves, or other vampires, or those warlocks?”
“I don’t know how big you think our organization is, Oliver.” The Leader said. “But we barely top over a hundred, this is a grass-roots operation, so we are doing what we can.”
“It’s okay, we’ll do it, and this is guaranteed, that we’ll be able to cross it?” I asked.
“So they say.” The Leader said vaguely. “Now, you will need some potions. Some to take, some spells, and some to plant near the suit, and along the border. They should be strong enough to blow it up once you’re in position, with just a little time.”
“The wizards and witches and…them, they’ve already made all of this.” Clyde replied
“Can’t they do it?” Oliver asked. “Why aren’t they pitching in?”
“They are not in desire to go there in person.” The Leader answered.
“They said no.” Clyde answered. “And they feel their blood is too magical to go in.”
“More magical than a vampire?” Oliver asked.
“Yes.” Clyde said, in an amused voice.
“Okay, well, let’s go over the lesson we’ll be ready to go!” I clapped my hands together, hoping for the best, and felt the twinge of annoyance from everybody. I hadn’t ever felt that before. I hoped in that moment I didn’t annoy too many people. I’d hate to think somebody secretly hated me, and I wondered what if I was wrong about Mrs. Otto’s banter.
“One catch.” The Leader said, though she tried to keep it hidden, I could tell there was pleasure off her voice. “You need to leave after planting the potions near the suit, they will be fatal for all those there.”
Chapter Text
Oliver, Lisa, and I stood outside the gates of General Arthur’s mansion. The sky was black, and the air was thick with heat. There was a sense of calmness over me, despite the threat looming over us.
The mansion looked so much drearier than it was when I had first seen it, when I thought it was just a mansion, full of extravagance and riches, and not a deranged warlord and dozens of creatures locked underground.
Oliver held a bag, spells written on index cards in there for me, written to be more powerful than the spells my semi-scattered memories could conjure. Also laid in there were several bottles full of potions. Oliver was doing his best to look unemotional, stoic, but I could feel the worry wafting off of him, punching me in the gut and expanding my nervousness by tenfold.
Lisa chewed her lip, looking confused, innocent as somebody studying for a test, but I could see her anger and sadness, her thirst for revenge, and her wish for her life. She had punked up her dressing for this a bit, leather jacket, jeans, and heavy boots, looking like she stepped out of a nineties action movie.
“We ready?” I asked.
Lisa nodded, giving me a tight smile. Oliver shrugged, his grin even less certain than Lisa’s.
I took a deep breath. “Okay, hand me the first spell.”
Oliver handed me an index card, labeled on one side, Invisibility, with the spell on the back.
“Nos et tres vestes nostras invisibilis.” I uttered, and felt a wave go over me and my clothes and felt the spell had worked for us, a wave of invisibility washing over us.
Oliver took out a jar of a purple potion, meant to turn us intangible as well, to walls and objects sideways, at least, it would suck to sink right through the ground. We may be able to survive going down it, but if the potion stopped functioning when we were in the Earth’s core, or more than ten feet in the air, or space we would probably end up dead.
Oliver took some of the potion, making a face, then handed it to me as well; it tasted sour and bitter, the acidic taste only furthering in intensity as it went down my throat, but could be much worse. A jar with a lighter purple was given to Lisa, being a vampire, and required slightly different ingredients to work on her.
Lisa handed Oliver the jar and gave a quick nod, her nerves bouncing off the chart. With a nervous step, she phased through the fence, stopping on the other side. She turned to us, waited for a few seconds, and shot us a thumbs up. Seeing her survive and be alright, not a mess of dust or gloopy slime, convinced Oliver and I to step through as well.
“This shouldn’t be too hard.” Oliver said. “All we’ve got to do is plant a potion near the suit, and leave, and this should be the end of this.”
I felt a twist in my stomach. Yeah, they may be genocidal maniacs, but they were still people, and we were going to leave them in a highly dangerous state; the Leader clarified it was only mostly fatal, like most bombs, but that was a very faint comfort. We already had semi-poisoned them, and this is going to be much more worse.
“Yeah.” I said instead, hoping that this wasn’t earning me a ticket to hell. Oh God, that might just be real, huh? Or Nirvana, or Purgatory, or whatever else, I’ve got to ask about that and get redemption.
I shook my head, trying not to worry about which afterlife was concrete until we got out. “Let’s get going.”
I couldn’t get over how the General’s mansion seemed so different now. When I was Luca, it was a place of power, of strength and force. It was a strategic field, made for those who deserved and could implement power.
Just a few days ago, it was a beacon of hope; yes, it was extravagant, and luxurious, even to me, but it represented something as well, a chance to feel a family connection. My relatives were in and about, talking, and laughing, and not being dead. I was just finding out my feelings for Oliver.
Beneath the harsh bright lights hanging high, white and powerful like those on a football field, the soldiers looked even more threatening than they should have. They all stood rigid, and firm, no more than a foot between them as they stared at the windows and doors, their gazes solid and stern.
Most of them at least, there were two at the end, their quiet whispered chatter loud as sirens in the silent yard. A man talking to a woman about his three-year old son learning to walk. I felt sick again, and judging from Oliver and Lisa’s emotions wavering off, I felt even sicker.
I couldn’t focus on that. He was willing to kill parents to other three-year-olds, maybe even three-year-olds themselves. They all had families, everybody has one, all these soldiers had someone, from a big, huge extended family, to just a cashier that sees them and makes small talk. And all of them are willing to go along with this plan, to do whatever it takes to turn the Earth into Ultra-America.
From the soldiers I felt a mix of emotions, happiness, boredom, calmness, drowsiness, but I didn’t get a super-villain kind of feeling from any of them like I expected, no bold-faced sadism. They were feeling like normal people, not any hunger for flesh and thirst for blood, though my empathic abilities weren’t so attuned just yet, I was still feeling they were fairly normal people.
I shook off the thought. I couldn’t think of them as the people they were, the Leader told me. But weren’t they doing the same to all of those in foreign countries? I hated this. I thought if I ever would have been into any magical stuff I’d be like those brothers on the CW, and not helping with the death of dozens of soldiers.
My thoughts shifted away, thankfully. I realized just how odd it felt, not being seen by any of those people. It felt so weird, being invisible, being nothing to these people. I was used to attention and stares on me, from peers, from their parents, random people stopping me to hint at favors, older woman flirting with me. It felt so ghoulish doing this, walking straight through, being unseen.
We passed them, partially through them, a shiver running through my body as we went through theirs, and I wondered if it was a natural feeling, or psychosomatic. Another Luca word.
Me having been at the mansion the most, able to roam freely with little restrictions from the General, I was familiar with the layout, I led Lisa and Oliver across the house. We passed by dozens of more soldiers standing guard in the living room, scientists milling about, and people in both simple and extravagant clothing, who I knew must have been magic-users. I felt sick to my stomach; tv shows and movies made bombing people seem so trivial, a momentary shock. I could feel these people, their determination, their hope, their sense of morality. I don’t understand how they could be okay with doing something so devastating to others when they’re feeling like normal people. Really, I guess I don’t understand any war or its purpose. I guess some are necessary, but I can’t really see it.
The passage was behind a Norman Rockwell painting in a hall; and we stepped through it and found a stairwell, hard, rough, concrete steps. The lights were bright, washing out the staircase, and causing an intimidating atmosphere. I noticed how odd it was that there were no shadows cast off from us, a sensation that I hadn’t ever noticed.
It was weird, no sound from the footsteps, no effects on our surroundings, like were wafting through the air. It was almost like our existence had been evaporated from the air, phantoms gliding.
Oliver’s fingers were intertwined with mine, and I kept squeezing it for comfort. I knew he wanted to make me feel better, he didn’t like this idea much better, but I didn’t feel as much reservation as I would have expected, but instead a lot of anger, his resolve stronger than mine.
The stairwell opened into a hallway, with dozens of doors and about as twice as many people standing and walking through them. Their chatter was loud, trying to penetrate my train of thought that was treating them as enemies, as tasks, as those mushrooms from Mario, immaterial and unimportant.
It wasn’t working though, their voices, their tones, their feelings, they were all hitting me, reminding me that they were people, with lives, with evil and good in their hearts, that I could help kill; that I was going to kill. If I hadn’t had helped the General this wouldn’t have happened, his goal would have been stupid and unrealistic and never accomplished, he had so little monsters when I came, so little hope of actually having power for the suit, and I did this.
“It’s okay dude…babe, Cooper.” Oliver said. “It’ll be alright, this isn’t your fault.”
I nodded, letting myself go to Oliver’s feelings, focusing on his warmth and passion, not the cold analytical stoicism of the scientists, or the bored, violent feelings of the soldiers, or the worries and guilt boiling within myself. The sense of calm washed over me again and I squeezed Oliver’s hand harder, hoping to God that it would all be alright, and I would get to hold Oliver’s hand more.
We walked to the end of the hall, completely unnoticed, the feeling chilling to me. I tried to think about those that would be affected by me, impacted by my decisions. My uncle’s decisions would be horrible, they said result in the death of at least millions, and my decisions could result in dozens of deaths.
“It’s necessary.” Oliver said. “There are dozens-thousands of people just like me and you that he doesn’t view as valuable, that they don’t view as people. All of them here, they either agree with that idea or don’t care about those lives. It sucks, but, it’s the rightest thing.”
I nodded. “I know.”
We walked through the door, to the construction room. I had briefly seen it when the General took me there, or at least the bottom, just another room then. Now walls and ceilings had been broken down to create this gargantuan of a room, as big as a concert hall, and over two-hundred feet tall.
Lab equipment lining the walls, scientists milling around, soldiers standing guard. The room was cold, without emotion or warmth, or décor, all so business, though the sheer size of it left me in awe for a second. In the middle of the room was the suit, so much more gigantic than I had imagined. The ceilings were so high, it didn’t seem possible it could fit under here, and I was confused how it was going to be put out for the souling on the lawn, we must have been the height two hundred feet tall.
The room had dozens, if not hundreds of people within, mulling about, walking, scurrying, doing everything they could to help my great-uncle’s pursuit. It was overwhelming, but seeing my uncle’s jar next to the suit on a table brought me back to Earth.
It was metallic, with dull purple and green tubes across the arms and legs, colors muted now, but I knew it was going to be vibrating with color any second now. The rest of it was a dark gray, not quite black, giving it a sense of realism, while the secondary colors reminded me a lot of Lex Luthor and the Joker, a cartoonish evil that the General doesn’t seem to notice. It was largely humanoid, with certain features added to it that makes it more versatile, plates that looked similar to scales, wings on the back, talons. I suspected more features could be used, but the head was noticeably missing; I knew when they’re supposed to be insert his soul, they will put the head on to top it off, but right now it was laid by his feet, which were the size of minivans for scale.
I looked at Oliver, and saw him holding the bottle already, red smoke swirling inside, one of the many bottles were going to plant here and destroy this all.
Oliver looked at me with an unsure smile and I nodded. We walked to the suit, and Oliver gently placed the bag down on the ground next to the foot. It was such a small minor error, almost unnoticeable, just an inch of the concave showing the dent, remarkable that it was ever even seen.
The three of us spread all of the bottles and jars around the suit, every time someone walked by, walked through the room, making me sick to my stomach and guilty. At least there would be no way the suit would survive, not functional at least, and the General would be left trapped here in his jar, hopefully expiring here. Then the plan would be dead, with the General in the jar alone.
“Let’s get out of here.” Oliver said.
“Yeah,” Lisa said, “hey, have y’all ever been to Whataburger? It’s so good, once we get the clear we need to swing to Texas.”
I nodded and I began to turn, but I felt a shot of pain through me, my body beginning to shake, a painful tingling soaring through every single muscle. I screamed out and fell to my knees, but that was too much effort, and I fell onto my stomach as well. The pain was unlike anything I had ever felt, each muscle, each bone, each nerve feeling like they were being crushed, stabbed, burned; it was an incredible swell of different sensations, much worse than the deadly fatigue that had hit me when I first rediscovered my magic.
I used as much muscle as I could and saw what I already felt, Oliver in the same position as me, struck down and hurting as well, it was doubly so for me, as I received all of Oliver’s pain too.
“Did you really think that it was going to be so easy?” Uncle Arthur’s voice came out of the jar on the table. “You don’t think some of the world’s most brilliant military minds know about this whole plot? Imbeciles. You think a rag-tag group of monsters are going to stop what fate has been planning for centuries? The key to salvation? Our manifest destiny finally being met?”
I wanted to argue, but I found myself unable to do anything. Breathing was too hard, I couldn’t push anything out, I couldn’t suck anything in. I looked and saw hundreds of eyes on me, all staring down, watching me, so many emotions hitting me, disgust, amusement, joy, pity, fear, shock, anger, I felt like I was going to die.
“Should we execute them sir?” A man asked and I realized tears were already dropping from my eyes.
“No, we need to start the soul extraction. Their bodies are still good for usage.”
“Yes sir.” The man said, and I felt myself getting picked up, before the world went black.
Chapter Text
Gauntlets were on my wrists and ankles again when I woke up, though these were more technological than the ancient, magic ones from earlier.
I was stripped to my underwear, manacled to the wall spread apart. I looked over and saw Oliver opposite me, done in the same pose, rousing awake as well.
There were numerous people, beings, in the room. A few soldiers, standing guard, a scientist, and four people draped in dark, intricate robes. They were standing with their hands held up, chanting in Latin, the air colder as they were performing their spell. I knew what this was, it was the end, they had Oliver and me.
I saw a jar, double the size of the General’s, with a seal in the middle. I guess that was going to be for Oliver and me, the General’s nowhere to be found. At least we would be together. Maybe I could find a way to cast a spell that could get us wheels, or something, and we could roll to Connecticut and make some semblance of a life. It was a stupid thought, but I was spit balling there.
The chanting grew louder, the temperature dropping colder, and I felt an unnatural gust of wind swirling through the room. The feeling in my toes and fingers had faded, more than numb, they were entirely useless, this emptying feeling spread to my hands and feet, wrists and ankles, arms and legs. It spread over my body, and I saw a salmon-colored mist protruding from my mouth, heading towards the jar. I saw out of Oliver a baby blue was coming from his mouth, and his eyes had turned into the same color.
All of my feeling in my body had been lost, up to my lips, my sense of sight even gone. The world was black, and silent, without smell or taste, and all I could do was scream, and even that ability was soon gone. It was worse than the pain I had just been feeling, worse than the fatigue underground in the aquarium; it didn’t hurt, it was the loss of all feeling, my thoughts drying, withering, dying. I was nearly encased into the jar completely, I could feel nothingness, no sight, no hearing, no touching, no smell or taste, my body almost a shell, my lips being the only things that still had any feeling.
It was black, and it wasn’t quiet, it was the complete lack of anything, it was more than having your eyes closed and seeing black, or having hands over ears, it was nothing. All of my thoughts and feelings had faded, all the things that made me Cooper Luca Bradford, all the details and components were gone. I don’t know if it would have been like that in the jar, but if it would have been like that, it would have been worse than death.
Then, like a rubber band, all of it snapped back, all my senses, my feelings, my thoughts, it was all back into place, in my body.
I blinked, letting my eyes adjust and saw all the soldiers down on the floor, a raw, messy, meaty pile of flesh where their necks used to be, soaking the tiles with crimson. Three of the magic-users were in the same state as the soldiers, and Lisa was standing, blood on her face, pooled around her mouth, her chest heaving, and tears dropping out of her eyes.
“Oh, I’m so going to hell for this.” Lisa whined, and I could tell, her feelings shooting through my veins, that this was something she truly believed. I wanted to say something, but being manacled and reeling from still being alive was taking its toll on me, leaving disorientated.
The room was warmer, clearer now, and I was beginning to gain clarity and calmness. I looked at Oliver, feeling his panic and fear, seeing his state of panic.
“Amigo, amor, it’s okay, listen to me, Lisa’s here. I know that was a lot, it was.” Oliver’s chest was rising and falling heavily, his whole body was trembling, and I felt it, almost as overwhelming as the sudden input of life. “Oliver it’s okay, it’s bueno. Hey, hey, listen, tell me, um…” I tried to think of something to distract him. “Tell me, what is your middle name.”
Oliver wasn’t listening to me, he was too distracted, his panic overwhelming, I glanced at Lisa who was crying, couldn’t help at the moment..
“Hey!” I said louder, firmer. “Listen, what is your middle name?”
Oliver’s eyes darted to me then away again rapidly. “Hey, hey!” I said, catching his attention again, and before he could move, I spoke again. “What’s your middle nombre?”
“Duke…” Oliver gasped out and began looking around again, though his shivering had stopped.
“And why is it Duke?” I asked.
“Because…be…be…” Oliver began.
“Because what?” I asked, I looked over at Lisa, her guilt heavy, mixing with Oliver’s panic, on her knees crying, she still wasn’t able to help me with Oliver now.
“Because, because…be…” Oliver stuttered out, though his breathing was slowing. “It’s, it’s, it’s, where my mom…sh-sh-she went to school there.”
“And do you like that?” I asked.
“No.” Oliver said, his breathing less panicked now, more exhausted. “I-I-I…don’t like…don’t like, don’t, I don’t like…having something about her in my name.”
I smirked. “Okay, dude, we’re bueno, okay?”
Oliver wasn’t completely better, not yet, but he gave me a nod, still collecting himself. I looked at Lisa; I don’t know what to say to her, or how to help her, I don’t have that heavy, heavy faith she does, and I had no idea what to start with.
. I wished I would have helped her, said something, but nothing came to mind; it didn’t seem to matter, because after a few more seconds, she calmed herself enough to use her nails to cut us out of our restraints, both Oliver and I hitting the ground and just sitting there, in our underwear on the cool, tiled floor.
“What happened?” Oliver asked.
“I don’t know, I guess their anti…whatever, didn’t work on me, you know, vampire and all.” Lisa answered. “Not being human, not anymore.”
I nodded, being hit by a wave of grief once more; my bones and muscles and everything else feeling exhausted to the limit, I was so tired of being put through all of this, I wanted a normal experience, without feeling like I was dying. Oliver and I just sat there on the ground, regaining our senses.
“Okay, so what should we do now?” Lisa asked, after five, ten minutes maybe of sitting there.
“Can you make another portal?” Oliver asked.
I shrugged. “Tria ad salutem.” Nothing, no blackness, no smoke, no mist, nothing. “Ignis digitorum.” My fingertips sprouted flames, a simple, easy spell, much more than transporting three people. “I’m too weak, or there’s an anti-teleportation thing around, or something.” The truth is, there was too many possibilities now that I was thinking about it, any damn thing could be happening. And that made me think that even if I could get out, would we just keep running into all kinds of these things?
If my thoughts gave Oliver any concern, he didn’t show it though, just turning to me. “Okay, then what are we supposed to do?”
Chapter Text
“So, we just leave?” Oliver asked. “Do you think that will work, babe?”
I wanted to frown at the cynicism and panic nature in Oliver’s voice, but I found myself grinning like an idiot as I slid on my sweater at being called babe. Soon the situation we were in took precedence, numerous bodies surrounding us, and I was frowning as I put my head through the hole.
“Okay, we leave, that’s it.” I said, “You know, clearly the General doesn’t care, or doesn’t think that magical creatures will work together, so we’ve just got to get to them, and attack, I mean, all of our plans aren’t working, stealth isn’t doing us any good, it’s all we’ve really got.”
“Maybe the water will take its effect.” Oliver said. “Maybe we can wait, I don’t think we can charge through, with all of this…”
I could feel Oliver’s uncomfortableness with all of this, these bodies, but also regret. I knew he was sharing the same thoughts I was, grossed out by this display of violence. It was necessary, and I don’t want to show judgement, but Lisa looked different to me, her features sharper, angular, more intense, I felt horrible, I knew I didn’t have any right, and I should be on my knees thanking her, but these sweatpants would be drenched in blood.
I looked at Lisa, trying to be tough, to be composed, but I could tell she wanted to crumple and fall. I don’t know what I could say, killing is a big no-no in the Bible I think, and I didn’t catch all of it, but I wanted to say she considered herself Christian.
Oliver, I feel he would be better at this, at comforting her; he had the Teen Help Line training, and I was told I wasn’t the most relatable. I wish he would say something, but I could tell he was wracking his brain, probably listening to me.
He must have, because he shot me a look, and a tight line formed on his face.
“Lisa, listen, you did what you had to, we would have died.” Oliver said, going over to her. He placed a hand on her shoulder gently, but her posture stooped, the crumbling seeming to be about happening.
“I know, I know that.” Lisa answered. “It’s…we don’t have time, we’ve got to do something, leave, stay, hide, something.”
The door began to make a sound, of someone turning a handle, and I froze. Luckily, Lisa was quick on her feet, because she grabbed Oliver and I, dragging us behind a shelf in the room.
Sadness, horrible, deep sadness, one that had no sense of levity to it in the slightest walked into the room. This was momentarily replaced by a sense of paralyzing fear, but the sense of sadness was heavy, and covered most of the fear up. I peered through a crack in the shelf and saw the alien we had seen from earlier, or another one. It looked at the people, the bodies, and drew out a weapon, though I detected no violent vibes from it.
As I looked, it became obvious that what I thought was a weapon, similar to gun in shape, though with a screen at the end of it, was used for more than just violence. It was scanning the room, the alien looking around, and glancing at the screen.
The alien stopped in their tracks, fear growing, their black eyes widening as they slowly turned and looked our way, and I felt eye contact.
The alien looked at us, terror rising and exploding within it, I could tell it wanted to run, to leave, but was too scared of that. I could also feel a hint of calmness coming from it, as it went for its gun.
“The gun.” I whispered to Lisa, and in a flash it was gone, with Lisa behind the alien, holding the gun in her hands.
“Let’s go…” Lisa said. “I’m not going to have to…”
I shook my head. “No, we can’t.”
“Then what can we do?” Oliver asked.
“I don’t know.” I thought, and thought, and looked at this creature, its misery and pain emitting. It hated this, it hated helping my uncle, helping this country, it hated this life, it was too full of hate and sadness to feel any other way. I wish I could convince it to help.
Then it hit me, like a light bulb, a very dim one albeit. “Intellego me aliena.”
I looked at the alien, no visual difference. I felt some magical discharged, definitely hampered by something that had been put around the house, but I was hoping this would work.
“Um…alien, listen, we just want to stop him, my uncle, the general, you know, I can tell, you don’t like this, we can help you we can take you.”
If the alien understood me, it didn’t show much sign of it, just staring at me with wide, black eyes, miserableness and horror wafting off of it.
“We are not taking an alien with us, Cooper.” Oliver said. “Not from a quasi-government organization. Just let Lisa…let’s go.”
“Boys, we don’t know who is waiting there, or how to use this gun, or anything.” Lisa said. “It was an alien, who knows what’s next, they could have somebody competent.”
“Oliver, can you read his mind?” I asked.
“It’s all alien to me.” He answered. “I guess this thing doesn’t translate.”
I shrugged, and nodded, but I felt curiosity from the creature, and just a bit of its fear tapering.
“Okay, little, um…buddy, we’ll, we’ll go, please, don’t follow us, I swear, we’re good guys, or close to it.” I said, “We want the least amount of people to die. Ignore these bodies on the floor.”
“Okay, I’ll turn into mist, scan the area, and we’ll like go through.” Lisa said. “How about that?”
“I guess. I hope they don’t notice a big cloud of mist just going through the halls.” Oliver said.
“Okay, listen Oliver-.” Lisa began, her voice brittle and rattling.
“Stop.” I said, “we can’t be fighting, we-.”
I felt a hand on my wrist, cold, slimy, like one of those slapping hands from a gumball machine. I felt a sudden shock go through me; my feelings, and a tentative, doubtful little hope; the alien.
I looked at it, it’s eyes still wide, but not furrowed upwards at the top, not quite as much at least. It didn’t quite look as miserable as it had.
I felt another feeling, alertness and urgency.
“Lisa, wait, he’s alright.” I looked at the alien and nodded my head. “It’s okay buddy, let’s go.”
“Cooper, he could be any age, just because he’s short doesn’t mean we should talk to him like he’s a toddler.” Oliver advised. “Also, he’s an alien, I don’t know if we should be giving it trust.”
“I think he likes it.” The alien began walking, pulling my wrist as he walked across the cafeteria. I tried to ignore the bodies we were walking past, keep a stiff upper lip, and just trust that this alien would give me some form of salvation.
When it opened a closet, revealing walls of guns on the walls, and grabbing one, I was convinced for a second that I had been proven wrong. Then, I assessed its feelings, and knew it wasn’t going to harm us, it was too…fearful, too distressed.
“Stay calm.” I said, as sternly as I could muster to Lisa and Oliver.
The alien pulled the gun out of the closet and pointed a finger at it, one that seemed to have a suction at the top. He began to speak gibberish, or whatever its alien language is, pointing and waving his finger at it, explaining in his way about it.
I looked over at Oliver, who was in deep focus, trying to understand the creature, and paying attention to each move it made. From what I could feel, Oliver understood it fairly well.
It had a circle at the base, and a little screen; when the alien spun it, the color on the screen changed. He made it red, then pointed it at a computer in the corner. The red wave of energy spun out of the barrel, and hit the computadora, the whole screen going up into a big red cloud of energy that covered everything, before it dissipated, revealing that nothing was left in its place except ash and smoke.
The alien then pointed to us, motioning for us to follow him to the closet of guns. I stood there in front of the guns, while he pointed his at me.
“Cooper, what the hell are you doing?” Oliver asked. “He just killed that computer.”
“It’s okay, I trust him, he doesn’t mean anything wrong.” I said and motioned for them to follow me.
“Cooper, I don’t know how well this is going to go.” Lisa said cautiously, I mean, he’s an alien. With a gun. Who just made that computer into ash.”
“Well, it looked painless, at the very least, and it’s all we’ve got.” I motioned my hands harder, unwariness coming from them, though both followed me.
We stood in front of the guns, and I felt like we were posing for a school photo for a second, the way we were standing, looking at the alien, facing him. The alien flipped his gun around, showing me purple on the screen.
He flipped it back around, and a wave of purple energy blanketed over us. It lasted only a few seconds before we were standing in the forest with a bunch of guns at our feet.
“Huh.” I looked at Oliver and Lisa. “I wonder what this means for our cause now?”
Chapter Text
“It seems like we’re going to go off to war.” The Leader spoke loud and clear over all the creatures in the room.
The Leader stood on stage, and the dozens of creatures stood around, already equipped with guns. There was anger and excitement boiling off of them, it was obvious and palatable, even without magical empathy.
We landed in the forest, my magic back and with all these guns. I made a portal to the dilapidated building, once more, and Elaine and Clyde helped as we brought them. We gave a demonstration to the Leader and she had them hauled to her headquarters and met with her top officials, analyzing the weapons and how they worked, and writing up new battle plans.
The sun rose, and Oliver and I stayed in the condemned building. Lisa was with us until lunch, then taken through the portal until sunset, when she came and collected us, bringing us to watch the Leader give a speech to her army.
I tried not to listen to the speech, Oliver and I sitting in a room overlooking the scene, away from all those creatures, who hated me and were now armed. I didn’t want to be here, I wanted to be back home in Westport, getting a hug from Mrs. Otto and Mr. Otto, then falling into bed with Oliver after quacking a cook meal. That wasn’t going to happen right now, the Leader was making us stay until they marched off.
The speech went on forever, very violent, very negative, but at least there was no topic of world domination, so I felt some ease.
“For years, they have captured our kind, our family, our friends, from all corners of this earth in the senseless fantasy of taking over the world” The Leader looked around, her focus sharp and stern. “Tonight, we are going to take back ours, and take some of theirs. We will put an end to this trivial notion of this fantasy. We have already accomplished the impossible, just by all working together, we are all from different corners of the earth, across ocean, some are even farther than that. Just us standing in a room is a testament to us challenging the status quo of now, and bringing in a new era, one where we will not be subjected to experiments and prisons by those mundane. Not afraid to use our power to protect ourselves, and our family.”
She talked a lot, for a long time; I was never good at listening to things for too long, so I zoned out and turned to Oliver.
“What do you think?” I asked Oliver.
“That we’re screwed.” He said bluntly, telling me something I already knew. “I don’t trust her, this is wrong, I know she’s got goals, I bet she wants the same thing. Power, probably.”
“I don’t know what she is hombre, I’ve never seen anything like her.” I took in a deep breath, not knowing what I should do. “But, I think that’s way too dense for us to think about, let’s talk about other things.”
“I think we need to find a way to get our powers under control. I don’t need to hear every single thought ever, especially your’s.”
“Oh, alright.” I laughed, because I could feel there was no ill-will intended from him.
“You know what I mean, I know you, dude. I already know what you’re thinking. Then I hear it literally, then you actually say it.” Oliver sighed. “It’s just…so much.”
I nodded, in agreement. “Yeah, I understand it, maybe we will get it under control sometime.”
Oliver shrugged, just a little. “Yeah. So, you never, thought of any other boys?”
I thought about it, Oliver already in my mind. To tell the truth, I don’t think so. Of course I can tell who’s who attractive, but pretty much all my male intimacy needs came from Oliver. I mean, since middle-school we’ve pretty much been boyfriends.
“Yeah, I guess we have been.” Oliver laughed low and quietly. “So, how do you want to tell my parents?”
“Oh, something big, and huge, I could hire somebody to come in and sing, or plan a party, that would be good. Oh, we could take your mom on that cruise, and surprise her there!”
“I think her being on the gay cruise would kind of give the surprise away.” Oliver said.
A roar of applause erupted when the leader finished, interrupting our conversation. They were chanting and hollering and sounding incomprehensible, almost rabid.
Lisa soon joined us in the room.
“Wow, she’s got them going just like our pastor, pre-vampire days. Brother Darren is a lot more lowkey than all of that, talking about vampire redeption, Reverend Choi.” Lisa said. “How are y’all doing? Y’all ready to go home, I bet.”
“If she lets us.” Oliver said. “Who the hell knows what she’s going to do. How are you doing, Lisa?”
Lisa took in a breath, and a deep regret filled the room, or at least that’s how I perceived it. Her eyes already glistened with tears, looking away, but the strain in her voice was obvious.
“I…I…I don’t know exactly what I’m going to do.” Lisa said. “I’m going to have to walk with God and talk to Him.”
“Like literally, or is this a Christian thing?” Oliver asked.
“Oh, you heathens.” Lisa laughed, her voice still creaky.
The came through the door, Elaine and Clyde following right behind her, the Leader smiling determinedly, Elaine grinning, and even Clyde trying to raise his lips upward.
“You two, you’ve earned enough redemption.” The leader said. “You have your freedom, you two may leave.”
It sat there, this permission, that we could leave, get out of here, and go on with our lives.
“Really?” Oliver asked. “What’s the catch?”
“None.” the leader said, waving us away. “Be off, be gone, be gay. If we succeed your life returns to normal. If not, as Americans, and especially as white, rich men, you won’t really suffer.”
“What about you, Lisa?” I asked.
“I’m staying.” Lisa said, uncertainty wavering her voice
“She is choosing to.” The Leader said. “This was never mandatory for our kind, only our prisoners.”
“I want to. There were some good people underground with me, justice needs to be found for them, and I’m going to try.” Lisa said.
I nodded; Oliver remained silent, but I could tell he was angry with this.
“Where did this come from?” Oliver asked. “What changed your mind.”
Lisa looked away. “Nothing, it’s just something I know I need to do, I can’t just go on while all of these others are working so hard, I need to help.”
Oliver looked at her, then the Leader, like he wanted to say something, but bit his tongue back, refraining from doing so.
“If that little interrogation is over, you may be off.”
“I’ll take them back.” Lisa offered.
“Very well.” The Leader said.
“Goodbye boys, I’ll think of you two whenever I think of tainted water.” Elaine said, raising her hands and giving both of our heads a small stroke.
“See you.” Clyde responded shyly, before turning away.
Lisa grabbed each of our wrists and dragged us out the room, and into the auditorium with the dozens of monsters, brandishing her fangs at any of the other creatures around, of which dozens wanted to kill me, and about half wanted to kill Oliver too.
Once we were back inside the condemned building, we all relaxed just a little.
“Those two women, the ones with the tentacles are the ones that want to kill you because y’all’re virgins.” Lisa said. “So, I’d get that taken care of as soon as possible.”
“How come everybody is always telling us about our sex lives?” Oliver asked.
I shrugged, and smiled at Lisa. “You can come with us. Oliver’s mom has four daughters, she just would love more.”
“No, she wouldn’t.” Oliver said, and I realized he meant it. Poor guy, he thought his mom’s jokes were real. “They are, Cooper. But you should come anyway, Lisa, you don’t need to be here.”
“I do, and it will be alright, I swear, I’ll be over in Eastport, bringing y’all Whataburger, super-fast, you know.”
I smiled, though I don’t know how much I believed her. “It’s Westport.”
She nodded. “Right, I’ll find y’all, don’t worry.”
We scanned the room, checking to see if we wanted to bring anything. Beside our ripped pajamas, there wasn’t anything there, our drab little prison.
Lisa walked us through the building to the front door, showing Oliver’s car right down the block.
“How did this get here?” Oliver asked.
“Some of the group broke it out of the General’s complex, figure you’d need it to go back.” Lisa answered.
“Not self-driving, but, at least we won’t be driving domestic.” I looked at Lisa, hoping she would change her mind.
“Well, I guess this is it…” Lisa said. “I’ll come and see you two.”
“That’s great.” I said, “You can follow us to Harvard, you can be our roommate!”
“You’ll be fine.” Oliver said. “Don’t do anything too heroic, please, stay safe.”
Lisa grinned mirthlessly. “Sure, I’ll see you guys later.” Lisa took a step back, before going forward, wrapping her arms around us. “I’ll miss y’all, take care, be open, and I’m promise, take care of the virginity, it’ll take you off about half of their lists.” Without another word, she turned and jogged away, back into the building.
I looked at Oliver and smiled. “She’ll be fine.”
Oliver grinned. “Yeah, I’m sure.” Both of us were lying.
Chapter Text
Oliver and I drove, the car silent, the road dark. Neither of us were talking, but I knew what Oliver was feeling, and Oliver knew what I was thinking; we were going to have to find a way to soften our powers, they were so intense, but more importantly, neither of us were hopeful about our situation, or what was going to happen.
“Should we play the alphabet game again?” I asked.
Oliver sighed. “You know, this should be a happier thing, all of this. Getting together, getting out of that building, that group; my parents will love us getting together, Taylor will love proving she’s right, it’ll be good for her, I don’t think she’s ever experienced that before. But I just feel miserable, and so nervous.”
I nodded. “I know. I get it. But there’s not much else we can do, right? Unless you want to go back?”
“No, I really don’t. I mean, they’ve got all of those wizards, alien-guns, and all of those monsters. We can’t really do anything, and I don’t really want to.” Oliver said.
“We could try?”
“They’ll have tricks up their sleeves. They’ll be able to kill us. We should have died twelve times over the last two days.”
I nodded, not agreeing, but understanding. I wanted so bad to be out, to be away from all of that, but now that I was, I felt like there was unfinished business, things I needed to do. I wanted to see this through, kind of. I just wanted to make sure it was really done, and over with.
There was nothing we could do, and there wasn’t anything that either of us said was going to comfort the other while we were in the car. We both nearly jumped out of our skins when my phone rang.
I looked at it and saw a number I didn’t recognize. Just a week ago, I would have thought it was unimportant, now I felt like I should answer.
“Cooper.” It was Lisa, her voice in tears, and crying, and I realized I didn’t feel her emotions from the phone. “They have a field, like a force-field, they moved our potions, or it’s stronger or something; some witches can make holes, but they’re so small, almost nothing can get into it. We don’t have a way of getting in, our bullets can barely reach them…I’m sorry.”
The call hung up, and I looked at Oliver, nervous and fear painting my face.
“Okay, might as well.” He said trying to sound resigned, but I could feel some determination within him.
I looked around and turned the car, pressing my foot to the pedal, letting Oliver tell me where to go.
Chapter Text
We roared through the forest, speeding down the road, dirt flying in our wake. I already felt sweat all over me, and felt nervous, sick, and fearful, but also excited, and hopeful. It was too many things, really, and it was a sickening feeling.
We could see it from a mile away, the monsters at the perimeter of the forcefield, transparent, with purple veins throbbing through it. Dozens of soldiers ran throughout, shooting, just inches away from the monsters, from the field.
In the middle I saw the suit, all two hundred something feet of it, hundreds of swirls with different colors, different patterns being sent into it, some taking minutes, with no stop, some zapping in quickly. These were the essences of the creatures in the labs underground, powering the suit, changing the structure.
As we drove, those swirls soon stopped, dissipating, and the device was taking charge, my uncle’s soul being loaded into it.
“What can we do?” Oliver asked.
“I don’t know, but we need to do something, Lisa’s there.” I said, then thought of something.
“That’s stupid, Cooper, no, stop the car.”
“No, it’ll work!” I grabbed my phone and hit Lisa’s number again.
“Speak.” The Leader replied, her voice cold, unreadable.
“Tell all of the wizards, witches, whatevers, tell them to create a hole at the base, one big one, and all of those creatures to leave.”
A pause from her, as we were going faster and faster towards the force field, almost at triple digits. “Fine.”
Another hang up, and I pushed even harder onto the gas. “Pretty rude of them not to end the phone properly.”
“Cooper, this is not a good plan. I mean, it’s a head on collision, how is it going to go?”
“Start drinking your bottle, the one the Leader gave us.” I reached and grabbed mine, taking the lid off. The drink was strong, acidic, and tasted a lot like orange soda. I swallowed harder than I ever had before, and faster.
I dropped the bottle to the car floorboard when I finished, and looked Oliver, licking his lips at the drink, trying to get every drop.
I got close enough and laid my hand on the horn. It was quiet under the rumble going on, gunshots, screaming, roaring, but once one creature saw it, it started a chain-reaction. Creatures jumped out of the way, and so did the soldiers, leaving a path for us, straight to the force field.
The magic-users had created a small hole, just the right size for Oliver’s car. It kept expanding, and going back on itself, leaving its dimensions loose and varied. It was small, but I was going to have to go into it.
“I can’t believe I’m giving up my car for this.”
We passed through the field, one sigh of relief passing out of mouths, then holding our breaths for our next obstacle. The suit, already huge, a skyscraper in itself, was even bigger as our distance from it shrank shrank.
Bullets came at us, thank God and the Leader for the potions, but they either crumpled as they touched our skin, or the car took the damage. I could feel a bit of Oliver’s pain though as the car got roughed and roughed further.
“Okay, let’s go, on tres.”
“Oh, let’s just do it.” Oliver said, unbuckling his seatbelt, and reaching over and grabbing mine.
“Oh, that would have been really stupid.” I laughed, feeling Oliver’s annoyance, like his eyes weren’t making that obvious enough.
Scientists and soldiers ran out of the way of the car, and any warlock that was there was too busy with the spells and the chanting, and the praying to the moon to give us any attention, something I’ll always be grateful for.
“Okay, open your door now.” Oliver said and I reached with one hand to grab the handle. Due to the speed, it fell back towards the interior, but there was no click, so it wasn’t closed. “On three.”
I nodded. “Uno, dos,” I felt Oliver’s fear, and also a bit of annoyance within him, “tres.”
We jumped out of the car and our bodies crashed to the ground. Over a hundred miles on this ground would kill other people, but thanks to the Leader’s potion, it only hurt really, really badly, knocking out my breath, and I could feel bruises already developing, and some blood was spilling from my hip; the force was too strong, leaving me on the ground, too exhausted to move, frozen, watching the car as it roared down towards the suit.
The car was slowing, just a bit; it was going fast enough that the screech of it crashing into the suit caused everybody to turn and look at it. The fault in the suit’s foot expanded with the collision, ripping a hole into it, and managing to make the suit wobble, creating a ruckus that stopped everything else, though it stayed standing, its torn foot beside the car.
The soul transfer needs to be in a whole, no open wounds like the suit now had. I saw the General’s soul, a red beam of energy, throttle out of the suit, the need for the soul to find a vessel strong and further damaging the suit with its desire. It sent itself into the next empty vessel: Oliver’s car.
I held my breath, wondering if he was gone, if this was over, if he was really in the car, if the suit was inhospitable now. It was a while before he spoke up.
“You moron.” The General’s voice growled over the car’s speakers. “Do you understand what this means? Decades of work are gone! This will take years and billions to reinvent this! Do you understand the ramifications of all of this? I tried to give you some semblance life, a peaceful fantasy, a way to be in the country’s victory in the jar, but you went and aligned yourself with those sick, demonic bastards. You don’t get that fantasy anymore; I want you killed!”
The scientists, the soldiers, and the warlocks stood around, the war temporarily paused, a wave going around of uncertainty, disappointment, fear. I could feel the resolve from my uncle’s allies wavering, doubt and fear settling in.
I could see from the crowd, still wearing her maid uniform, Marian step up, and place a hand on the car.
“Sir, it has been an honor serving you, but in so many ways, you are not the man you were.” Marian said wistfully. “With all due respect, I think you lost, it’s not in the budget, and with the timeline its not practical, and I’m getting out before your loss catches on.”
“Marian, what the hell do you mean?” The General roared. “This is an order.”
“Arthur, I promise, I’ll find a way to have your dreams met, in some fashion. Not this one though.” Marian looked around, her gaze hard, a particularly angry glare being shot at me. “Clear it up, let’s go!”
“What do you mean!” The General screeched. “You stay here and fight, you domestic cow!” He revved his engines, thought the sound of the magic-users chanting overpowered the sound.
Marian walked away from him and towards me. She stopped and kneeled down, looking into my eyes.
“This isn’t the last we’ll meet. And you better hope I find you before your teachers do.”
In a flash almost all of it was gone. All the soldiers, the scientists, Marian; all of them were gone, somewhere else, able to regroup, and make plans, but not here anymore, not now. For now, it was over.
Corpses still lay over the ground, the suit’s standing was nearly to tip over, and Oliver’s car was fuming, literal smoke coming out of it.
“You damn loser!” The General screamed, the wheels turned and it raced down to me. “I’ll make you pay!”
In just a second, hordes of creatures, were on top of it, sinking fangs, claws, hurling their bodies at it, kicking, punching, stopping the General’s movements and causing him to stand in place.
Other creatures were running into the mansion, seeking family and friends. Still others were snatching the bodies of those fallen, a sense of hunger on them.
I looked over, looking at Oliver, laying in the grass, small blood covering him. I could feel his energy, I could feel him the whole time, at the back of my mind, and was so happy with him being there.
The Leader and Elaine appeared, calm through the chaos that was going on.
“Quit damaging the suit, we need to keep it whole for now, he’s going to be our prisoner until we reconnect his soul with his body.” The Leader said, then turned to us. “Cooper, Oliver, thank you for your help. Do not worry about any of them, as long as they are loyal to me, they will not attack you; at least not in a state starting with c.” The Leader said. “Also, Lisa is gone.”
“You two, go to sleep.” Elaine whispered, and soon the world was dark.
Chapter 61
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Oliver and I woke up in our clothes, shoes still on, in the General’s bed. I don’t know why were placed in that room. A cruel reminder I was his assistant and caused a lot of this, or just because it was the biggest, softest bed?
All the bodies were gone, and I wondered who had gotten rid of my family’s bodies, the General’s group, or the creatures. Oh, I really hoped it wasn’t the creatures that took it, knowing their proclivities.
The basement had been cleared, every level, every access was lacking in any creatures, even dead fairies I had seen on the bottom of the cage. We checked every floor and found it completely empty, void of any life, or death for that matter.
In the field by the house was still the suit, and the car. Both were labeled with ‘soulless’ written across them with blood, and I felt safe that my great-uncle was gone.
Elaine being gone hung in the air for the first day. Neither of us could really believe it, and Oliver didn’t see her, so we were a bit suspicious. A part of me hoped, that she was alive, but it wasn’t a strong part, somewhere inside of me told me she wasn’t, not something I wanted to listen to, but it kept persisting.
At noon on our first day, Ms. Mendez sent a long email that Oliver read for me, as well as deposit into my bank account. According to the email, I own everything, and all the property. I now had more money than my parents did, and over a hundred properties I was going to have to sell off. That was going to have to be a problem that August Cooper thought about.
It was still July, and Oliver and I now free of guts, gore, and any kind of monsters and were trying to make up for lost time. Two days later, we sat at the back porch by the pool, wearing swimsuits and getting tans, trying to let the last few days wash away, and doing a pretty good job.
“I called my mom when you went to the bathroom.” Oliver said. “She’s not happy about us staying the rest of the week.”
“Well, mamacita will get over it, I was barely in the sun this whole trip.”
“Underground lairs aren’t great for tans.” Oliver commented.
“Is she still mad that we didn’t call her a lot?” I asked.
“Yeah, we’ve got a lot to answer to her.” Oliver said.
“We’ll take her on that cruise, that’ll make it up to her.”
We laid across on the same chair, our limbs intertwined, playing music on the speaker, foreign music, songs and artists that my great-uncle would have hated, I smiled at that. I was smiling about a lot, plans to sell off most properties, to donate millions to Gabriel’s charity, the fact that there won’t be monsters attracted to our virginities anymore.
Sleep was soon to come, and would have come; Oliver’s head on my chest, my nose buried deep in his hair, taking in his scent, his natural and product combining, if not for a feminine cough just a few feet ahead and above us.
I opened my eyes, squinting behind my sunglasses. Oliver shifted on me, and looked too, his head not leaving my chest.
A few days ago, the sight of a woman floating above us would have cause much more than a slight finch. Now, it seemed like a perfectly natural thing.
She had long, thick, black hair, full of curls, going down to her ankles. Her skin was dark, verging the line of brown and black, she had a full body, not as much as Mrs. Otto, but still plump. She wore a white dress, one that went to her wrists, covered her neck completely, and was cut just below her knees; the color matched her eyes which were completely white.
“I hate to disturb you two boys, but I was wondering if we could chat.”
Oliver sighed. “Miss, we’re trying to pretend that the world we in is a safe, peaceful place, at least until August. So, thanks for whatever you’re trying to sell, but we’re good.”
I sat up straighter, giving Oliver a slight slap on his side, just enough to admonish him. “Lo siento about my amor’s behavior, we’re a bit tired of all of this insanity, honestly.”
She nodded her head. “I understand, if I was born, and with the limited knowledge you two were raised with, I’d be hesitant as well of anything more than mundane, but I would implore you two to listen to me.”
Oliver tensed up, and turned, taking a seat beside me. “What? Is his uncle in a toaster now? Is Marian putting her soul in the suit? Is the Leader deciding we’re a loose end? What, what’s happening?”
“No, none of that. Your great-uncle is gone, I’ve seen to that, his body found, re-ensouled and executed by the Leader, grisly sight. Marian isn’t quite up to a leadership role, she doesn’t have the resources, and her group is quite disillusioned. There is no need to worry about the suit, I will have it removed by the end of my visit.”
“And the Leader?” Oliver asked.
“She is not a problem, not here, not now, let’s be thankful for that.” She spoke in a milky, soothing voice, one without urgency, but with deep care. “You may call me Evelyn.”
“Well, hi, Evelyn, since you seem to know so damn much, where the hell were you when we were doing all of this?” Oliver asked, anger rising in his voice.
Oliver’s anger didn’t bother Evelyn, not from what I could see, like the Leader, I also couldn’t get a feel for her feelings. She simply smiled.
“I was facing punishment for my interference.” Evelyn replied. “You see, He wasn’t very happy with my decision to remove murder from all of you.”
“You got rid of all the killing?” I asked.
Evelyn nodded. “Yes, I believe in it too. And it’s only for about the next four years, by July 2026, you can kill as you wish. However, He felt I was wrong, short-sighted, and foolish for this, so now I am here, doing my redemption, as He sees fit.”
I nodded, knowing about redemption.
“Well, that’s nice, been fun talking to you, thanks for the explanation, off you go now.” Oliver said.
Evelyn steamrolled over him. “I am sorry for what seems to be short-sightedness of this. I was only able to stop humans from killing humans before I was discovered. I planned on stopping all levels of murder, the magical to the mundane, the mundane to the magical, the magical to the magical. But now, we fear that your species is going to be under duress by these creatures.”
“Yeah, I could have told you that.” Oliver scoffed. “Hell, my sister could have told that.”
“I was very impressed with the way you two have handled yourselves, and your love is clearly a strong weapon at your disposal. I would like to ask for your help.”
“What help?” Oliver asked. “You can take away murder, can’t you stop this, any creatures from attacking, or aliens, or whatever the hell else is going to happen? Why is it focused on us?”
“Amor, cool it.” I said, stroking his arms.
“I do try to stop what I can, I am sorry I have not been able to do more. And you would not be the only ones to help, this responsibility would not fall squarely on your shoulders. There are hundreds of people all over the world, ones that defeat creatures, aliens, mutants, every year, month, week, day; this is already a problem, an epidemic even, that most of the world is fortunate enough to not even know about.”
“Is that supposed to motivate us?” Oliver asked. “I’ve seen enough of those kinds of shows, they have no lives, friends die, it sucks.”
“Those are shows, the good majority of them live perfectly normal lives, only those that decide to devote themselves find them stuck with no balance.” Evelyn said. “And while, yes, it’s going to grow, these attacks, these problems, we’re hoping as I recruit that there will be more and more, we will be able to spread them, so they are not spread too thin.”
“That sounds nice, good luck with that, see you.” Oliver said.
“Why us?” I asked. “I mean, anybody can do what we can, and probably have.”
“This is true, but you were always on my list if I were ever to get this idea off the ground. You see, Cooper with your cognitive abilities, pre-and-post, which have just barely manifested, and Oliver, with your mediumship, also just manifesting, I was always hoping to approach you two, of course, in a more passive role, help and assistance. With your DNA being changed by the alien, and you gaining telepathy and empathy from him, you are even more valuable to my cause.”
“We were always supposed to get powers?” I asked.
“Yes, your abilities were to come at any time, even before your uncle interfered with your life.”
“And I’m supposed to trust somebody that allowed that to happen?” Oliver asked. “Do you know how much he’s been agonizing about that, about what his uncle forced him to be? Fat chance of us joining.”
“I understand your hesitance, and I apologize. If you ever need me, just look to the sky and say my name.” Evelyn said. “Also, we have brought your uncle’s car here.”
From the sky a small square grew and grew as it descended, my uncle’s self-driving car. Inside of it were two old ladies.
“Who are they, here to sweeten the deal?” Oliver asked.
“They were to be your teachers, if you wished.” Evelyn said. “Cooper’s teachers are powerful, but their scope was limited, and vitriolic, Sophie and Elise, on the other hand, are much more open to other ideas, think of them as professors.”
Something she said shifted something in Oliver, and I could feel an old-feeling blooming up, the one that wanted to attend Hogwarts and wear robes. It grew and grew as the car sat on the ground. One of the older women, a short one, a little person, reached in the back and grabbed two broomsticks, and I think Oliver was convinced by that.
“We could always do it on a trial basis.” Oliver said with a shrug.
Evelyn smiled. “That’s great. But I do believe in a work-balance, so we can discuss your training on August 1st. We will find you, don’t worry. Until then, I would like you two to enjoy your vacation.”
The two women climbed aboard their brooms, and a pair of white, big wings sprung out of Evelyn’s backs. The two witches shot out into the air, quickly out of sight, and Evelyn turned to us.
“Sorry about my trouble in this. And believe me, Jillian and Lisa are at peace. Oh, and we got rid of the problems with the car, it now works perfectly.”
Then her wings began to flap, and she was quickly gone.
“So, she’s an angel?” I asked.
“It would seem so.” Oliver said. “Dude, babe, I’m sorry, I didn’t ask how you felt about any of this. Not when I was saying no, or saying yes, I shouldn’t have decided like that.”
“It’s okay, I’m fine with whatever honestly, and it’ll be good, doing something better, now that I’m whole again, and not split like I was.” I leaned back, Oliver joining me. I turned and looked at him, so we were face to face, and I placed a hand on his cheek, loving the warmth under my palm. “It might be fun, it was with the General, and I’m sure it will be a lot more fun with you.”
Oliver smiled. “Like I said, we can give it a shot.”
I nodded. “It was nice they brought the General’s car up here.”
“I wonder what they meant when they said it’ll work now?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know, but I plan on putting the self-driving mechanism to full use”
Oliver smirked, and I leaned in, feeling the smirk on my lips, the idea of monsters being a distant thought in the back of my mind, aliens, mutants, robots, clones all being kicked out of my mind, all I could think of being Oliver and his embrace.
Notes:
Thanks for everybody who has read this long work, sorry I'm such a yapper lol. Also sorry this is weird, this is two decades of oddness that cooked into a person being pushed out into a work. I didn't publish this as fast as I would have liked, got roped into working full time. :(
I plan on writing another Cooliver fantasy story, then writing a mystery and fantasy story at the same time, publishing them around the same time. I plan on my future fantasy stories to be shorter and more light-hearted, think of this as a pilot movie I guess.
If you have any questions or comments you can always go to my tumblr, skycycleboy, and please consider donating to charities, to Palestinian charities in specific. Thank you again!
b0nefather on Chapter 1 Wed 21 Aug 2024 05:18AM UTC
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