Midnight Writers March 2013 by Midnight Writers

March 2013

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Midnight Writers

Table of Contents Cover: “Tea Party for Two,” a photograph by Eris “Twenty-Five,” a poem by Nyctophobia “Miles to Go Before I Sleep,” a photograph by The This Page: “We’re All Mad Here,” by Artemis Owlish Bookworm Page 3: Page 11: Ask Aphro & Dite 

“Poseidon’s Minion,” a photograph by Andromeda

A Complete History of Unicorns

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Musings of Hades:

“Calypso’s Island,” our resident loner’s thoughts on writer’s block Athena’s Corner: Book Reviews  Hysteria by Megan Miranda, In the Shadow of Blackbirds “Here, Kitty, Kitty,” an illustration by Calypso ERROR. ERROR. ERROR.

by Cat Winters

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“Thorin Oakenshield,” a poem by Zenyatta “Aurora Awakes,” a photograph by Andromeda

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“Six Impossible Things Before Breakfast,” an illustration by Hebe “Wonderland,” a poem by Soufflé Girl “Alice,” a poem by Raindrop

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“Elvish Wine and Dwarvish Beer,” a debate on the Page 14: superiority of species by Zenyatta and Hades “We’re All Mad Here,” a poem by The Owlish “How’d You Guess?” an illustration by Artemis Bookworm “Smoke and Mirrors...But No Reflection,” a photoPage 6: “Red and Blue,” a poem by Queen Shadowblossom graph by The Owlish Bookworm “Kiss the Girl,” an illustration by Hecate Page 15: “Once Upon a Dream,” an illustration by Hecate “His Name Is Blood: VI,” a short story by Hades “Rarvab,” a poem by Dite

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HNIB continued “Sugar, Spice, and Everything Nice,” a photograph “Revelations,” an illustration by Chronos by The Owlish Bookworm “Fly,” a poem by Melody “Dining Irritation,” an anecdote by Papillon

Page 8: “Neptune’s Daughter,” An illustration by Hecate “Familiar Flowers,” A poem by Vivian Griselda

Page 9: “Don’t Blink,” An illustration by Selene “Summary,” A poem by Barnarda Rey “Writing Rambles,” a musing by Iris

Page 10: “Rain,” a poem by Chronos

midnightwriters.webs.com midnight.writers2013@gmail.com

Aphrodite: Hades planning a surprise Persephone with pomegranate trees. would’ve avoided place, even if she trying to kill him.

Athena’s Corner

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Athena: If it was Hermes, he would know better than to go near my weapon of choice.

They’re coming for me. I’ve been on the run all day. They’ve locked all the exits. This is the first time in hours I’ve been able to rest. Should anyone read this, heed my warning: those you trust the most will be the ones you least expect to betray you. I’ve spent too much time here. I have to— THEY’RE COMING. THEY’RE—

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 Hades has been murdered.  Only three people have access to the Underworld: VP Athena, Persephone, and Hermes.  There is no body. Chunks of gore and ichor (all identified as Hades’ DNA) were found in three locations: the garden, the riverbank, and the kennel.  Three potential murder weapons were found floating down the Lethe: a spear, a bident, and a caduceus.  Who killed Hades? Where? With what? Clues are scattered throughout the magazine.  The answer must be stated in Clue format to the Honorable President at the May meeting c. April 17.  Winners get a prize at the last meeting in May.  Remember: Some clues are false. Clues are incredibly difficult to solve, unless you attended the most recent meeting. Extensive knowledge of Greek mythology is highly recommended. If too many people solve the murder, the prize value will decrease. The President can’t bake that much stuff. So don’t tell people if you figure it out. Sra. Steele never lies. This puzzle is kind of impossible, by the way. Carpe Noctem.

Dear Dite, Why did you force me to send you a question? Sincerely, JK Dear JK, I ask for questions because I need to answer questions to earn my monthly ration of cookies from our glorious supreme overlord. To answer questions I must have questions. Thus I turn to you and others, our faithful congregation, to fill this simple need. FOR DA COOKIEZ! Sincerely, Dite Dear Dite, Prom? Love, Nyctophobia Dear Nyctophobia, No. Sincerely, Dite Dear Aphro, Roses are red, Violets are blue, I’m really bored, What’s up with you? Sincerely, Dite Dear Dite, Roses are red, Violets are blue, You have no life, But that’s okay, too. Love, Aphro Dear Dite, If unicorns have one horn, shouldn’t they be called uniHORNS? Sincerely, Confused Leprechaun Dear Leprechaun, Once upon a time, there lived the Candy Miser. He took all the candy and stashed it, except candy corn. In rode a hero on a sparkly white steed. His horse was called Uni. He equipped the peasants with candy corn weapons. They dressed in costumes to hide their identities. In a final confrontation with the Candy Miser, he charged with his candy corn lance in his candy corn armor. The Miser unseated the knight and slew him. Uni took up the candy corn sword in his mouth and slew the Miser. When all cleared, Uni had the candy corn welded to his head. He became known as Uni’s Candy Corn, but they shortened it to Uni’s Corn and eventually Unicorn. The candy and the wearing of costumes gave rise to a holiday in October known as My Birthday. (And a lesser holiday known as Halloween.) Sincerely, Dite

Musings of Hades

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Ask Aphro & Dite

was for the She the was

Hysteria By Megan Miranda Mallory murdered her boyfriend and the courts ruled it was in selfdefense—but everything changed anyway. Her parents ship her off to a private school, Monroe, where Mallory begins to discover the secrets about that fateful night, secrets that some will kill to keep quiet. Miranda has written another riveting psychological thriller that will keep readers flipping pages.

In the Shadow of Blackbirds By Cat Winters Mary Shelley Black is a young girl trying to survive during World War I. When she is hit by lightning, dies, and comes back to life, it is with new purpose: her best friend Stephen is dead, haunting her, and needs to find peace. While she struggles to find out what actually happened to PTSD-affected Stephen, she will discover more horrible secrets than she ever wanted to know, as well as a thing or two that makes life worth living again. Special thanks to Sra. Steele, Hades, Athena, Hippolyta, Hermes, Raindrop, and Aphro.

Sra. Steele: No two liars 3 are on the same sheet.

“Aurora Awakes,” Photograph by Andromeda

Thorin Oakenshield By Zenyatta He led the dwarves through rough terrain, He laboured to restore his name, He fought in battles far and wide With mostly Orcrist by his side. He led the way to the Lonely Mountain, Through Mirkwood and the Rivendell, He passed by roads and old fair fountains, He walked through hills and woods and dells. Then when he reached his destination And made the filthy dragon go, He searched through all the dwarf creations To find the magic Arkenstone.

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But he was late for Bilbo found it. Then elves came forth to claim some gold, Before he knew, they were surrounded Inside the Dwarvish Lair of old.

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Then war erupted ‘tween the nations: The dwarves, the elves, and the men of Dale, They fought with strength and with negation, But goblins came to fight as well.

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To make some peace young Bilbo came To the Elven tents to talk some time. The Arkenstone with him he brang To stop the battle and war crime.

Then eagles came to join the fray, And dwarves came marching led by Dain. The wargs and goblins will rue that day, For all of them were hurt or slain.

When war had ended, Bilbo came, To the large, fair, elf tent once again. But this time came to say Farewell, To the proud, free dwarf who while battle fell. The hobbit stood and gazed at him His eyes got teary, his eyesight dim, Then Thorin woke and raised his head To ask forgiveness on his bed.

When Bilbo said that he bore no spite, The dwarf sighed once and fell asleep. He peacefully passed o’er that night, ‘Cross the river of Time that ran wide and deep. But the line of Durin had not ended Despite Fili’s and Kili’s deaths. For upon the Mountain throne ascended Dain, who ruled ‘til his last breath. But Thorin will always be admired, For his quest to regain his Mountain throne. He traveled there through wood and fire And now will rest with the Arkenstone.

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the other hand, the deeds of the Elven kings and princes have been praised for ages. And wasn’t Sauron overthrown during the Last Alliance of Elves and Men? And you wonder why the Dwarves were forgotten. Gimli: I’m not surprised you haven’t heard tales of our greatest heroes. Dwarvish songs are too risqué for a royal elfling. Legolas: How comforting to know the Dwarves have a few heroes of their own. Gimli: We have loyalty, honor, and courage. Qualities you wouldn’t find in, say, the Elf, Maeglin, who betrayed the city of Gondolin. Or his father, Eol, who tried to Maeglin and ended up killing his own wife. Legolas: Do you not remember the how the Dwarf Mim betrayed Turin Turambar to the orcs? And Elves have many wise figures of their own. Gimli: Mim was a Petty-dwarf. We are not the same. We’d be as wise as Elves if we lived for millennia, too. Elves seem

“How’d You Guess?” Illustration by Artemis

Dorwinion wine is quite good. Legolas: Many thanks. It was brewed from elanor. Gimli: Still, nothing can compare to Dwarvish malt beer. Legolas: It is widely known how raucous dwarves get after one of their frequent ales. Gimli: One? We’re still sober. Besides, we’re raucous and proud of it! Warms us up better for battle than, ah, admiring the greenery would. Legolas: Admiring greenery? Elves have fended off Sauron and Morgoth for ages while Dwarves sat in their burrows and ruined their eyesight. Gimli: They’re kingdoms, and they’ll last long after the last of your kind are gone. And you must not have paid attention to your history while you were a wee princeling, because you’re forgetting about the Balrog of Morgoth. I remember your face when we were in Moria and Gandalf told you what it was. Legolas: Kingdoms may last for years, but they do not forever. Look at Moria! Don’t forget how fast you ran across the Bridge of Khazad-Dum when the Balrog was after us. And who are the First-born of Iluvatar? The Elves. Gimli: Because trees never rot! How would your Mirkwood fare if the Balrog moved in? And First-born? We Dwarves were created first, but your Iluvatar made the first of our race sleep in the ground. Only after he created Elves did he let us wake. So Dwarves are the true First-born. Elves are the First-Awake. Legolas: Let us use our wits, though it may be hard, and think about why Iluvatar wanted the Elves to be the first to walk on Middle-Earth.

Gimli: This

And do not forget how Sauron inhabited and polluted our green Mirkwood. Dwarves were not the only ones to suffer from Sauron and Morgoth. Gimli: I agree, we shall battle wits only shortly. I wish you no injury. Dwarves were another’s creation, and Iluvatar couldn’t have someone else’s children populate Middleearth first! And I never said only Dwarves suffered from the dark forces. You implied we were sitting in our mountains while you heroically sacrificed yourselves. Legolas: I did not wish to say the Dwarves did not do their share of fighting Morgoth. But, because the Elves were First-born, it can be expected that we fought Morgoth and Sauron the longest. Gimli: Morgoth did not descend into darkness until centuries after the Dwarves awoke, and Sauron rose to power even later. Dwarves and Elves fought the darkness for equally as long. Legolas: If they have, then the songs do not mention it. On

Elvish Wine & Dwarvish Beer

Hebe: Persephone can’t swim. never goes near running water.

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wise because other races do not know as much and must beg for help. We could know as much as you if you weren’t high and mighty and stayed in your trees all day. Legolas: You said Pettydwarves should not be classified with other Dwarves. Then why do you say Maeglin and Eol are the same as us? They were Dark Elves. And we share our knowledge freely. Dwarves would rather and dig for gold instead of coming to us for information. Gimli: Blast it! What are we doing? I thought we were having a drink together, and now we’re arguing about this! Ay...forgive me, my friend. Legolas: You’re right! We’re insulting each other and trying to find fault in each other’s peoples. Please, forgive me. Forget our arguments and have another pint. But without more debates and arguments! Fin—Starring Zenyatta as Legolas Hades as Gimli (Baruk-khazad! Khazad ai-menu!)

Red and Blue by Queen Shadowblossom

“Once Upon a Dream,” Illustration by Hecate Coloring by Hades

Roses are red Violets are blue I don’t know much But I know I love you.

Roses are red Violets are blue Ice cream and chocolate Are all better than you.

Roses are red Violets are blue You jealous alarm clock The bed might love you too

Roses are red Violets are blue You’re always on my mind Though I wish it weren’t true.

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Artemis: Hermes did it.

“Kiss the Girl,” Illustration by Hecate Coloring by Hades

Apollo: Athena did it.

Rarvab By Dite Roses are red Violets are blue Flowers are expensive So I wrote this for you Roses are gray Violets are gray I’m colorblind [Expletive] you

Roses are red Violets are blue Not that I’d know #Engineeringstudent Redstone is red Lapis is blue I’m playing Minecraft *digging sounds ensue Vertical lines are red Horizontal lines are blue Some blank notebook paper Quite crisp and new

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Dining Irritation By Papillon

Fly

By Melody I dream about that day When I might be able to fly Feeling the warmth of the sun Glistening across my back The wind lifting me Into the air and Making me feel

“Sugar, Spice, and Everything Nice,” Photograph by The Owlish Bookworm

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My family decided to go out for dinner one evening. My dad wanted to go to a Korean restaurant that we hadn’t been to in a while. Luckily, there weren’t too many people at the restaurant (I guess there aren’t too many people who know about it). We strolled into the building and sat down at a small booth close to the front Weightless counter. We ordered deep fried pork, As I prove to the world served with vegetables in a sweet and sour That I am now free sauce, for an appetizer and Jajangmyun From within their grasp. (noodles served with bits of pork and vegeIf only I were able tables in a black bean sauce). Able to fly across fields and During the wait, a middle-aged man accompanied by his wife and their son and Streets and cities and daughter were given the table right beside Just fly away any time us. He was chatting away with his wife and I ever wanted to children while my family and I were eagerOnly to escape my troubles ly waiting for our food. About a minute or so later, it arrived Hermes: I did it! Just kidand everyone was dying to start eating. My ding. Teehee. Me damn it, someone stole my weapon. mom split up the food and divided it amongst everyone. The deep fried pork That is not cool.

was divine, and I’ve always liked a good bowl of jajangmyun. However, it was somewhat difficult to eat because the man that sat at the table beside us gave off a rather unpleasant stench. His stench permeated my nose and it felt as though I couldn’t breathe. I fought through the stout smell and continued to eat. Once their food arrived, I thought for sure they would finally shut their mouths and eat in peace… Boy, was I wrong. Even while they were eating, they continued to talk and talk and talk. They just wouldn’t stop. At that point, I ignored them and went about enjoying my meal. Once everyone had their fill of food, my mom and dad split the bill as they always do when we eat there and walked out the door, full and content from the amazing meal. As I walked through the door, I had that one lingering memory of that man and his family and thought to myself, boy, I’m glad to be out of that place. Those chairs were really uncomfortable.

Fin

Persephone: Cerberus would’ve torn apart the murderer before they touched Hades. But he is less wary of people he regularly sees.

Zeus: Only Hermes ever touches his symbol of power. Also, the murderer isn’t related to Hades.

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“Daughter of Neptune,” Illustration by Hecate

Familiar Flowers by Vivian Griselda Watch the springtime flowers bloom, Such a shame I’m not there to see their doom. As they all fall for your mysterious trap, Our hearts too familiar, that merged together as one. Realizing my world has its own separate map, I’m tearing out a page that will never be done. Don’t fall for my cheerful smile, I promise you on the inside it’s broken. It’s easy to hide the pain after a while, From my eyes the world is upside-down, He felt the need to shake it. April will roll around once more, Wonder if my heart is to ever feel that way again. I thank you for closing that door,

All of your happiness with her is what I send. Being scared of the future makes me worry about the past, Questioning if you are worthy for a second chance. Set me up to believe that all love will never last, Yet I secretly wish you’d take another glance. Innocent flowers will cover the green fields, Then quietly die without a quivering voice. Protect your soul with multiple shields, Falling in love will no longer be your first choice. His heart will smile down on me, Like the summer sun will grin. But when the storm comes, My world will fall once more. I am for sure not the heartless man of tin, Next time make a note who the message is for.

Summary By Barnarda Rey

“Don’t Blink,” Illustration by Selene

I lost my way And I’ve never Been back On the right path. Don’t know Right from wrong. Just know what Suits me best Yeah, baby,

I never expected to become a writer at all. As a young child, I went through that phase of truly believing I was going to write some stellar, shockingly amazing novel at the age of seven. I would’ve even been able to write series, like the Harry Potter books I loved so much. Poems, short stories, books, I wanted to write everything. But that passion fizzled and sputtered out before I graduated the fifth grade. The first two years of middle school, I only remembered that period of time as a short phase I went through. It wasn’t until eighth grade that I picked up a pen again—figuratively speaking. What I actually did was sit myself down in front of a computer and type. In eighth grade my friend invited me to a writing forum online. I remembered my old writing days and grew curious to see how I wrote now, in comparison. “Well, why not?” After spending a couple of weeks just writing and creating characters, I was surprised at how fun it was. And I was better than I thought I

would be, too. In reality, I wasn’t anything special, but in comparison to some of my old works… Well. I distinctly remember digging out some old work and cringing. It became an actual hobby of mine last year. Before, I hadn’t really thought of it as anything but something to pass the time with, something to do on the side when I was bored. Then I started developing actual plots. The change was so subtle I hardly noticed until I thought about it. But suddenly, I saw writing in a new light. Images that had sat dormant in my mind due to my lacking drawing abilities sprang forth to take their places in plotlines and characters. What I couldn’t paint, I wrote. Finding the right words was a struggle but when I finally managed to get it onto paper, there was this huge swell of triumph. I did it! The goal was to get others to enjoy the story, connect to the characters, be transported away from their world and into another. Could I take people there? The places in my mind that I had creat-

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Writing Rambles by Iris

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That’s my life

Going on 16, That’s my life. Gaia: Pomegranates are out of season. Ascalaphus is on break. Only people who have a tree-thing know this.

ed—I could share them with others. They would never see the exact same thing I saw, but why would the scenery even need to remain static? My words twisting to form a path whose destination had endless possibilities. Everyone’s perspective and interpretation differs, but writers sparked a part of people’s imaginations that grew into something almost magical. I see the world in words and colors. What sort of picture can I paint for others today? I’m far from being eloquent and my stories, as well as my little rants like this one, are silly. But I enjoy writing all immensely. Even if I never become an author and never publish an actual book the way I someday hope to, I’ll always enjoy being able to share my stories with others and see how they react. I view my sudden love for writing as a fortunate event. The truth of the matter is that it’s become a part of me. These experiences were only brought about by writing, and for that I’m grateful to those who inFin spired and encouraged me.

Hellbound, it falls. Temporarily, it lives, travelling down one of the paths that can be tread upon. Streaming down the asphalt roads, taking everything away that is not, as it nears its end. Streaming down veins of petals, giving it the future it does not have, as it nears its end. No matter the road, it repeats

Loop, abandonment, Loop, fall, Loop, end,

Twenty-Five

in the body of an angel The reason you feel unloved is

By Nyctophobia To sit so close to you Your presence is intoxicatingly sweet But sweet, sweet poison So softly creeping

Invisible.

Still I sit here Watching, waiting, staring Taking in your beauty Hoping for a glimpse of your beautiful face

Invisible.

Here I am, stuck like a fly in sugar Ensnared like a hare in a trap Tantalized by your aura Gaping, staring, silenced Invisible.

But what is this? I see you glimpse at another You pause for a moment and time slows Me watching you watching him

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by Chronos

Rain

Invisible.

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I’m held in awe of you Your perfection is almost total Total perfection

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Repeat

“Miles to Go Before I Sleep,” Photograph by The Owlish Bookworm

Hippolyta: Hermes is mildly allergic to dog hair. He’d steer away from it.

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Poseidon: The AllFather’s favorite child despises having wet hair.

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into my car was not my brightest idea, but what was I going to do? Tell her no? Yeah, I probably should’ve. She introduced herself as Miranda Marshall and told me a strange man was in her house, and he was going to kill her. She motioned for me to drive away. “I should probably call 911,” I said. “NO!” she screamed. “Why not? If a stranger was in my house that’s the first thing I would do.” “Just...don’t. Trust me.” “Okay...” I was still a little confused, but it was her decision. “Where to?” “I don’t know,” she said. “What about your place?” “My parents are at a charity auction tonight. Why not?” So I turned around and we

Life of Trauma: Part 1 By Apollo It wasn’t how I had imagined it, but I guess things happen for a reason. I’m 22 years old, live with my parents, and have a kid. I was THIS close to graduating college. Let’s rewind to nine months ago… My name is Nicholas Pennington. It was spring break of my senior year. I was home for a week in March. I had just broke up with my longtime girlfriend and was hoping a night with the guys would help clear my mind. One night in the middle of break, I was driving down Tuckerman Lane, right by where Churchill HS. As I got to the light, a girl ran towards my car, screaming lungs to let her into my car. Letting her

“Poseidon’s Minion,” Photograph by Andromeda

headed towards my house. One thing led to another. I woke up the next morning, confused as to what happened and what this strange girl was doing in my house. She vividly remembered what happened, and I was filled in on everything. The next step was to go downstairs and explain to my parents what this girl was doing in our house. My parents are very laidback. When I came downstairs with Miranda, it didn’t bother them. They introduced themselves and told Miranda she was welcome to some coffee and bagels. Miranda excused herself to the bathroom, and my mom decided to turn on the television. “We interrupt our normal

programming for a Special Report. A girl known as ‘Jailhouse Justice,’ has struck again, this time releasing up to 170 arrestees from the Montgomery County Detention Center in Rockville. The girl has been identified as 22 year-old Miranda Marshall and is extremely dangerous. She was last seen by a local resident escaping from a house along Tuckerman Lane. If you see this girl, please dial the following number...” My parents and I stared at each other for a few moments. “This is bad,” my mom finally said. “No kidding,” I said, “We gotta do something quick before she finds out we’re watching this.” To be continued...

Eris: Bidents are hard to come by. I’ve only ever seen Underworldian royalty with them.

Calypso’s Island

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Has anyone else ever suffered from an extreme case of writer’s block? Currently, I’m suffering from one of the worst cases of writer’s block I’ve had in a long time. So let’s talk about a cure for writer’s block! According to the ever reliable Wikipedia, writer’s block can be caused by a lack of inspiration, depression, a sense of failure, or the pressure to produce work. Wow, this is beginning to feel like Medical Student Syndrome. Alright, lesson learned, if you have writer’s block, don’t google having writer’s block. But if becoming more knowledgeable about what might be the cause of your writer’s block only leads to feeling like more things are contributing to your writer’s block, how are you supposed to cure yourself? Normally, I cure my writer’s block by stopping whatever I’m working on and writing a backstory for a character, but when you’re crunched for time (like I am at the moment), that may not be the best strategy. When you don’t have as much time, you can try taking a short break and writing about random things just to get the flow of ideas going. The Cheshire Cat used to belong to the Duchess. Despite the song “A World of My Own” mentioning both cats and rabbits being dressed in shoes and hats and trousers, only the White Rabbit wore those clothes. The Cheshire Cat goes from purple and pink to grey and blue in the two Disney movies, and is grey and black in “American McGee’s Alice.” The Cheshire Cat originally had a song in Disney’s 1951 Alice in Wonderland; it was called “I’m Odd,” and was taken out in favor of “Twas Brillig.” If writing about something completely different doesn’t help, you could always try a change of venue. Sometimes just being in a different room can help free you from your writer’s block. If all else fails, you can try reading a book, or some of your previous work. Just remember that inspiration is a fickle thing; you absolutely never know when inspiration will hit you or what will inspire you. So if you ever have writer’s block, just try to keep an open mind and allow the possibility of being inspired by anything.

Chronos: I know Hades recently cut Hermes’ pay… Ooh, and the murderer would want to make sure there were absolutely no witnesses. “Here, Kitty, Kitty,” Illustration by Calypso Coloring by Hades

“Six Impossible Things Before Breakfast,” an illustration by Hebe

Ares: Athena’s always been ambitious. I wouldn’t put assassination past her. And she’d probably be smarter than to use her favorite weapon.

Selene: Persephone is too short to handle a spear.

Wonderland

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By Soufflé Girl Mad Hatter The Caterpillar Tell me, who are you? But you say that you don’t know Absolem, me.

White Rabbit My ears and whiskers! Late for an important date Go get my gloves!

Alice, the Alice Down the rabbit hole All this is impossible It’s only a dream

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Don’t you care for tea? Raven like a writing desk You’ve lost your muchness

Queen of Hearts Paint the roses red? How about croquet instead Now off with their heads!

Cheshire Cat Grin without a cat It doesn’t matter which way you go We are all mad here

Alice by Raindrop She happens upon A land unknown, a universe of her own— Something her governess and her Lessons had never dared prepare her for. Having tumbled and bumped her way Into and down a rabbit hole, she finds herself quite lost. Though her ribbon is askew and pale hands are Clenched into frightened little fists, The girl resolves herself and Embarks on her journey, alone.

Run! Run faster! Fall faster! Alice, wait! Pianos, Chairs, Broken chords, Drugged ticking Shattered swords. Fall faster! Now drink and eat And watch the world. You have to change For it.

Madness Confusion Help me, please! Run, run, run away! Faster, fall fasterAlice, wait! I’m late for an important date! Hysterical laughter High-pitched giggles Widening eyes And toxic fumes. Hardly. Stupid girl.

Run!

Run Fall Faster Alice Wait!

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Now crawl and wriggle And crouch down low This universe Won’t make room For you.

I’m late! Wait! It’s the wrongAlice! Why is a ravenRun! Faster A spot of tea perhaps? Fall Rings of smoke Like a writing desk? Sides of mushrooms Madness Singing flowers A spot of tea? Impending doom. Hardly. Run! It’s the wrong Alice! Stupid girl. Fall Run Faster! Fall Off with her head! Faster Wait! A grinning cat A smiling cat without its face, Six impossible things A suit of armor without the I’m late! knight, Ravens? Writing desks? A deck of cards without their Chaos king, The wrong Alice! A hero without the will to I can defeat thefight. Help us please!

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By The Owlish Bookworm

A raven A writing desk Six impossible things Thought before Breakfast.

Off with her head!

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“Smoke and Mirrors...But No Reflection,” Photograph by The Owlish Bookworm

We’re All Mad Here

WE’RE ALL MAD HERE!

Hecate: Hermes and Charon are in an argument. Hermes is supposed to stay away from Charon’s turf.

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to really help anyone except yourself. I can’t say I’m disappointed, since I had low expectations to start with.” He narrows his eyes. “I’ve told you, she holds the true power here. I can’t—” “You’re a coward.” Blood looks indignant. “You go too far—” “Whenever someone confronts you about your lack of action, you claim it’s because she’s in charge. She’s the strong one. She’s the only one with the ability to do anything around here. You blame her for everything, calling her the real bad guy and the one who’s behind all the horrible things in this town. That’s what you tell yourself when you could do something but don’t, and that’s what makes you feel better when you sit back and let it all happen.” At this point, Blood’s pale face is nearly as white as the snow surrounding us. Yet he looks the most human I’ve ever seen him. I can see him now as the young man in that old photograph, unaware of his immortal life ahead. Blood’s voice cuts through the cold air, though I detect slight shakiness in it. “If you’re done chastising me, it’s time I take you to safety.” I remain unrepentant of my words as Blood and I creep inside. Someone has to tell him, and I doubt any of the girls who’ve come and gone dared to mention something of the like. We head straight up to his study. “Stay here while I get your things. I’ll bring up a cot later,” he tells me. “Don’t touch anything.” Suddenly, I remember the album on my bed. Please don’t go near the bed, please don’t go near the bed… When he leaves, of course

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That night with the man.” When I say nothing, he continues. “She will act soon. You won’t be safe.” “Great!” I snap. “And I’ll be stuck in the house like a sitting duck.” Blood shifts on his feet. “There’s a place in the mansion where you’d be protected. She has limited power there, as per our agreement. My study.” I frown. “Isn’t the study where you…?” “No. My study is simply the entrance and exit. If she wishes to visit the chamber, she must temporarily surrender her power to me until she is finished with the chamber, which is also protected.” “But if this is true, I’ll only be okay until the next full moon.” That’s in two weeks. “It’s our only option for now,” Blood insists. “Will you let me help you or not?” Hiding in Blood’s study for an indefinite period of time is far from the top of my bucket list. But if I stay outside… Better the devil you know. “Fine.” “Good. We must hurry back inside. Even she has to sleep, but she’s usually the first to wake.” With a start, I realize it’s daytime. Mid-afternoon. My grieving has caused me to sleep at sporadic hours, and I’ve somehow reverted back to my normal cycle. “What will we do?” I ask. “I’ll bring some of your things there. I will also handle your meals.” “And after that?” I press. “When it’s the full moon?” “We’ll figure that out.” Blood realizes I’ve stopped following him. “Yes?” “This is just like you.” “What’s like me?” “You can’t bring yourself

His Name is Blood: Six By Hades No one seems to care I’ve been shirking my duties. For the past few days, I’ve been buried in my blankets. Every so often, I realize someone’s brought up a new tray of food. And every day after dawn, when everyone goes to bed, I hear hymn-like music coming from upstairs. Sometimes I think it’s a violin, other times a piano, and once I swore it was singing. I’m now glad I didn’t take anything from home. The sight would be too painful. I can’t bring myself to look at the album until the week is up. Even then, the faded text of the clippings blurs together. But even if I was reading clearly, it wouldn’t help. The only names mentioned are “Mr. and Mrs. John Sirens,” occasionally with an “and son” at the end. My bedroom door slams open. I jolt up, knocking my pillows aside so they cover the album. Blood’s eyes are emotionless as they focus on me. “Get up.” I stare at him, contemplating disobedience. But today I can see no spark of anger, arrogance, or expectation on his face. The utter lack of anything propels me up and out. “Dress warmly.” In less than a minute, I walk out to the hallway. He turns silently, and I follow him downstairs, across the foyer…out the front door. As my feet crunch across the snow, I’m so stunned I’m getting another trip to the “outside world” that I forget to ask why we’re out here. He brings it up first, once we’re safely in the woods, at the very edge. “She knows.” “What?” “She knows you saw us.

the first thing I do is step on the tile that opens the secret room. I dart inside and scan its contents, trying to ignore the trapdoors that lead to the underground chamber. The sight of the shelves of potions reminds me of the Breath of Hypnos I pocketed last time. It’s stashed in the very back of my underwear drawer. I don’t think I need to worry as much about Blood finding it. I look at the books next. Spells for Humans. Does that mean spells to be cast on humans or by humans? If the second, then what people besides humans would there be to cast spells? I pull it down and flip through it. Healing spells, illusion spells, and, ooh, destruction spells. It’s been a few minutes, so I put the book back and exit the room. I stomp on the tile again to shut the door. Then I seat myself in a chair—the one Blood made me sit in the night I arrived—and wait. Blood returns. It doesn’t look like he found the album. He places my belongings on a table and sits in his own chair. “When the others awake, I will tell them the grief for your father was too much and you committed suicide. I took care of the body.” “Must it be so morbid?” “It’s the most logical story. Many of the girls have already begun whispering their concerns about it.” “Will you tell Rem the same thing?” “Yes. His face would give it away. He’s not a good liar.” Blood ends the conversation and pulls out his black ledger. He scribbles for a few minutes while I sit, eyes wandering around the room. I fidget. I tap. I hum. Blood sighs. “Would you Continued on Next Page

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sleep for the past two nights. Not when I’m so close to the chamber where hundreds of people have been murdered. I wish I could go back to my old life, when Dad was alive and I still lived above the bakery. I’d even be satisfied if I could go back to when I could walk around the mansion as I pleased. The doorknob taunts me. Blood didn’t lock the door before he left. I convinced him not to. If, against his expectations, she gets inside here, I’ll need a way to escape. I can’t be penned in like a sacrificial lamb. She probably doesn’t believe I’m dead. She probably knows I’m still in the mansion. She probably knows I’m in this room. What is she waiting for? I’m tired of waiting for her and Blood to make their moves, using me like a pawn in their game. I open the door. Roxie, Anne, and Venus

better or worse Blood won’t show us either body…” My head spins as I sink silently onto my cot. Eleanor…is dead. How could Blood go from saving my life to taking another in a mere forty-eight hours? Or maybe she’s not dead. Maybe she’s just missing. Like me. Things are changing. For the past few months, life in the mansion has been so routine, I’d be dying from the monotony of it all if I wasn’t kept on my toes from fear of actually dying. But now no one knows what’s going on. Is Eleanor her? Is Eleanor faking her death so she can concoct diabolical plots? Or is Roxie right and it’s Venus, who’s hiding her evilness behind her stupidity? I look nervously at the wall that hides the secret chamber. Blood claims this study is the safest place in the mansion, but I haven’t been able to

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HNIB cont. like a book, Lorelei?” “That’d be wonderful.” I endure two days of sheer boredom before I hear the news, and only because I overhear Anne and Roxie as they walk down the hall outside the study. “First Lorelei, then Eleanor. Something’s up with Blood,” Roxie says. “He’s never broken his routine before,” Anne mutters. “Now two people in the span of two days, and Lorelei wasn’t even one of us.” “It’s about time he got bored with them,” a third voice joins in. Venus. “Even I admit, though, I’ll miss Lorelei’s gateaux.” “Shut up,” Roxie snaps. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you were behind it all, the way you rant about how you hate everybody.” Anne groans. “Enough, you two! You’re both heartless. Oh, how Rem must feel right now. I can’t decide if it’s

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were on their way to bed, the last ones awake in the house. Quick and quiet as a shadow, I descend the back stairs and sneak into my room. The closet and dressers have been touched, obviously, but it looks much the same. I rush to the bed and remove the pillows. The album is still there. I clutch it to my chest as I go to retrieve the vial of white potion from my drawer. There’s nothing else I need from my room, but I stall my return to the study. For the first time in two days, I feel like I have space to move and breathe. Rem will still be up, and I’m tempted to visit him, let him know I’m okay. But I remember Blood’s reason for not telling Rem about me, and I force myself to make the return trip to the study. The instant I enter, I know something’s wrong. I mean, come on, the secret room is in plain sight. Well, it’s time. I hold the album and potion close to my body as I walk inside. She’s kindly left the trapdoors open for me. My footsteps sound deafening on the steps. After I take a deep calming breath, I round the corner. At last, I’m able to see the chamber in its entirety, though there’s not much to see. Just lots of stone and shadows. And there she is, perched on the edge of the stone tub, holding a glass of red wine. “Hello, Lorelei. I suppose you want me to tell you everything before I kill you.” To Be Continued... Chiron: If it was Persephone, it wasn’t the caduceus.

Calypso: Athena has keys but rarely visits the Underworld.