October 2019
Midnight Writers
Table of Contents
Cover: “Spirit’s Magic,” an illustration by Aya Hatashi- Page 12:
“Muted Light,” a story by Vérité “Bird,” a photograph by Bubbles “Apollo and Hyacinth,” an illustration by “A Drop of Gold,” a photograph by Blue Serendipity “Deep in the Night,” a story by The Cold Hearted Queen The Wine Merchant ma
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The Hues of Blue
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“Falling,” a story by S.B. • A fruit lover asks for help concerning life-altering infor- “The Joys of Autumn,” a poem by The Calico Cat “Stumbling in the Dark,” a poem by The Midnight Raven mation “Walk Away,” a photograph by Yellow Seesaw • A witch asks for help with her mother
Ask Aphro & Dite
• Aya introduces herself and discusses her work
“Cinderella Dresses,” a story by Calliope “The Pumpkin Seed,” an illustration by Marz “October Magic,” a poem by S.B.
“Emotional Rollercoaster,” a story by Athena “Hanfu,” an illustration by Momo
“Cyan Skies: Winter (1),” a story by Blue Serendipity “Cloudy Waves,” a photograph by Blue Serendipity
“Emotional Rollercoaster,” continued “Pet-Message,” an illustration by Aya Hatashima “Deleted Words,” a poem by The Midnight Raven
“Cyan Skies: Winter (1),” continued
• Blue recalls a childhood incident
Monthly Otaku Column
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“The Man,” a story by Alex Choi “Silhouettes,” a photograph by The Calico Cat
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“The Man,” continued “Destroyer of Worlds,” an illustration by DIO “Constellations,” a poem by The Wine Merchant
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“The Dragon and The Fox,” a story by Atoned “Legend of the Night,” an illustration by DIO
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“The Dragon and The Fox,” continued “Blue Roses,” a manga by Aya Hatashima
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“La Llorona,” a story by Athena “Unfeeling,” a poem by S.B. “Outcase Visions,” an illustration by Jennifer Kaechele
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“A Long Walk Home,” a story by S.B. “Sunflower Field,” a photograph by Bubbles “Halloween Spirit,” a poem by Anonymous 2
Ask Aphro & Dite
The Hues of Blue
Hey Midnight Writers! I’m Blue Serendipity, or Dear Aphro, simply Blue, like in the title of this column. Since I recently dealt with a major life changing it’s October, the month of spookiness and magic, I event and I don’t know how to cope with decided to tell you all about the time I accidentally it. What do you do when you find out that started a cult. This was in elementary school when strawberries and raspberries aren’t berries and that bananas are? How do you trust any- I was a tiny little eight-year old in third grade. Even as a little kid, I had a crazy imagination thing anymore? Please help. (which isn’t surprising considering what I do now) Yours, The Betrayed Fruit Lover which entertained everyone I knew. Anyways, Dear Betrayed Fruit Lover, at my elementary school, there’s a large oak tree Well geez, now I have to reevaluate my at the very corner of our field. This tree became whole existence, thanks a lot. How did you my safe haven during recess from the moment I find this horrible information out?? Whoever began school. I even gave the tree a name, one told you this obviously wants to give you an that got passed on to the younger grades. One existential crisis and that is not okay. In this day, I declared that the tree was a power source case, I would honestly just recommend willand it gave me magical powers. Of course, I was ful ignorance. This means that it’s not a berry pretending, and my two best friends were all up unless you say it is and you can enjoy your for joining in. Our magical powers consisted of raspberries and strawberries and bananas just wind, rain, and sun (me!). We decided that if we the way you always have. Although if you all held hands, ran in a large circle like an extreme enjoy bananas I would question your sanity ring-around-the-rosie game as fast as we could, and slightly. Good luck with your berries and didn’t get flung, we could combine our powers to bananas! be the ultimate trio. This attracted a lot of attention With love, Aphro especially since we did occasionally get flung from Dear Dite, the circle from running too fast and more and more My mother won’t let me attend witching people joined in, adopting the little ‘powerful tree’ hour this year, help me convince her! charade. Some thought it’d be fun to get violently Yours, Distressed Witchette flung while others were genuinely into the idea of Darling Distressed Witchette, magical powers. It grew from only three of us, to Man that sucks. Your mom must totally just ten, twenty, forty, sixty! I should let you know that not understand it, have you tried explaining two to three grades would have recess at the same it to her? Tell her what all your plans are time, and nearly everyone was racing across the and why it is important to you and she will fields from the moment they were let out. My little definitely empathize with you. Or you can pretend game was spiralling out of control; it was always just turn her into a toad, that would quickly evolving into something bigger than I had probably work as well. But I would recom- planned. Eventually, I decided I didn’t want to play anymore. I wanted the quiet peaceful shade of the mend talking before transfiguration in this tree back and told them I was done. Of course, they case. weren’t happy with that. In fact, they rioted. At With love, Dite one point someone picked up a stick and waved it around in the air, chanting the name I had given the tree. More kids joined in which alerted the teachers who rushed over and lectured us all before dispersing the mob and standing in front of the tree for the next couple days. This effectively (and thankfully!) put an end to the cult. I guess the main take away from this story is don’t ever declare a tree “all powerful”.
issuu.com/midnightwriters wchs.midnightwriters@gmail.com
Monthly Otaku Column Welcome to Midnight Writers! I am Aya, and
I am the vice president of this club. As you could tell from my super-long last name, I am Japanese. I am also an Otaku, and in this column, I want to share the music, manga series, anime, movies, etc. that inspired me in my monthly drawings! So... in this month’s cover, I used my Halloween pendant I had since elementary school that I found in the corner of the closet when I was cleaning up my room. I was inspired by the illustration of the song, Migikata no chou (“Butterfly on Your Right Shoulder”). This vocaloid song creates an energetic disco feeling from the ‘90s, but contrasts sharply with dramatic, bitter lyrics about regretful relationships. The hand coordination in the illustration astonished me; it is so unique and sexy with bends of the finger joints! I highly recommend that you listen to both Rin and Len version... they are slightly different! Also, for this month’s manga, I was inspired by another vocaloid song, Replica. I was inspired by the field of blue tulips that appeared in the animation. Like Replica, my manga the blue flower is the key to the story. The color blue in roses and tulips symbolizes “impossible” and “mystery” since blue is not a color common in nature for these flowers. But at the same time, it means “miracle” and “blessing from God.” The song creates a contrast between a classical marching tempo that the drums create and the futuristic digital tone that the synthesizers create. Miku’s voice is tuned and edited uniquely so that it sounds as if a future humanoid robot (like the one in the MV) is singing. The character design for one of the boys is inspired by a character, Lio Fotia from the animated movie, Promare. My character is inspired by Lio’s hairstyle (he is so cute, and the movie itself is awesome so please watch it!!!).
Special thanks to Sra. Steele, Blue Serendipity, Aya Hatashima, The Calico Cat, Calliope, DIO, The Midnight Raven, and S.B.
3
Emotional Rollercoaster By Athena
Ever since Brad left I’ve been feeling numb. After months of moping around, all of my “friends” lost interest in me, and even my family stopped caring. I had sulked my way into a cave of isolation and I had no idea how to get out of it. So when I heard the ad on TV for “Emotionacoaster - something that will make you feel again”, I knew I had to try it. “Emotionacoaster” is a new type of roller coaster. Made with virtual reality it creates new memories for designated emotions. As I stood in line amongst hundreds of people, I knew my life would never be the same. Every person around me buzzed with a nervous energy. I met a couple holding hands explaining that they were going to use the Emotionacoaster to better their marriage. In every person I talk to I see a little bit of myself, lost and coming here for some answers. After two long hours of waiting, I finally reached the point of the ride. I expected it to look like a regular rollercoaster with the addition of VR goggles and headphones, except what I actually saw was a sofa with a giant monitor positioned next to it. An attendant helped me onto the sofa and then gave me what looked like aviator sunglasses, and dime-sized headphones. After I put both of these on a robotic voice greeted me. “Hello my name is Lauren,” it chirped. “Before you start the ride you need to take a quick survey first.” A list of questions appeared before my eyes and I had to speak my answer out loud to fill it out. At first, I had to answer the standard questions of “How old are you?”, “What is your gender?” etc. But as the survey progressed, the questions began to become more obscure. Questions like, “What are some of your darkest thoughts?” or “When was the happiest/saddest moment in your life?”. Answering these questions was awkward and difficult, but I knew I would get good results if I answered them completely honestly. Finally, at the end of the survey, Lauren said, “Thanks for taking the time to answer all of these questions! The emotions that we have chosen for you to experience today are jealousy, anger, sadness, and happiness. This simulation emulates a roller coaster in that there would be highs and lows-except with emotions. This “ride” will help jumpstart your emotions, and should help you feel like your normal self again.” Do I want to be my normal self again? I wondered. The girl that fell head over heels for someone and then fell apart when he left? No, I need to be much stronger. I pushed out these negative thoughts and let out a deep breath. The only way to go from rock bottom is up. So this
Becky, my former best friend, entered my view. Her long curly blonde hair curled behind her, and I subconsciously touched my frizzy hair that would never look even half as good. Her winged liner was so sharp it could cut through glass, and the silver dress she was wearing fit her like it was made for her. I saw her walk towards Brad and wrap her arms around him. My stomach began to brim with jealousy. “I can’t believe that we had only been broken up for a few days before she decided to go after him,” I thought. “Of course perfect Becky always gets what she wants.” And Becky was perfect, but she had only one problem. She had a thing for my boyfriend. “But wait. This party never happened, so the simulation must be doing its work,” I thought. After the “memory” faded away, Lauren’s voice entered my mind and said, “Jealousy phase over.” Before I had time to truly process what had just happened, I got sucked into the next emotion. Somehow I knew that this was the biggest fight that Brad and I ever had (or didn’t have?) and what led to us breaking up. “I can’t believe you did this to me!” I screamed. “Did I mean absolutely nothing to you? After everything we have gone through you’ve decided to cheat on me?” Even through the goggles I was so mad I was seeing red. The disconcerting thing is, Brad did cheat on me. With Becky, the girl in the jealousy simulation. But I never got to properly be angry because he ghosted me after Becky finally confessed to me. Maybe this simulation is giving me the closure I always needed. Once my heart rate went down after the blood boiling encounter with my ex, I realized I was now entering the sadness phase. “Well what’s new,” I smirked, “this is one emotion I’ve had on repeat for the past couple of months.”
can’t make it much worse.
Lauren’s tinny voice entered my head again to inform me that the ride was starting. A blank screen settled over my eyes and white noise buzzed in my ears. And suddenly 4
“Hanfu,” Illustration by Momo
ing a problem with the simulation,” he said. Since all of the other emotions had been about my “The problem isn’t with the simulation,” I replied, “I just breakup, I expected that the sadness simulation would be don’t want to leave it.” about Brad. But to my surprise, the “memory” started off His brow furrowed in confusion. “You want to repeat the with a close up of my face with tears running down it. My anger and sadness emotions?” he asked. dog Pepper lay limp in my hands. I couldn’t breathe even “No, but the happiness emotion is the best I’ve ever felt,” though I knew it was just a simulation. Pepper means the I explained. world to me, but she’s not dead yet. “I think I have the perfect solution. I’ve been experiment“Is this foreshadowing the near future?” While I thought ing with a new drug that would put you in a permanent that my breakup with Brad was the worst thing that ever state of this simulation. Would you like to be our first test happened to me, losing Pepper would be much much subject?” he said eagerly. worse. No one has ever shown me as much unconditional “Yes,” I answered immediately. The happiness simulation love as Pepper- and I don’t know if anyone ever will. was like a drug and now I’m chasing that high. When I heard, “Sadness Phase is ending” I sighed with “Perfect.” relief. I anticipated the next emotion with a swelling feelI was instructed by the attendant to lay down on the ing in my heart. Happiness, something that I haven’t felt in couch while Dr. Stevens hovered over me with a large months. Happiness, something that I now know I deserve. needle in his hands. I closed my eyes and waited for a new Happiness, something I am going to experience in a few seconds. I see myself walking on the streets of Paris, shop- beginning. ping bags weighing down each arm, and Pepper nipping at “Pet-Message,” Illustration by Aya Hatashima my heels. I’m wearing a bold red lipstick, and it looks perfect when I smile. I head into my tiny little apartment that has sunshine streaming through the windows. I sit down at my desk and write with a content look on my face. “Happy Phase is coming to an end in three seconds,” Lauren’s voice echoed through my head. “But wait no, I’m not ready for this to end,” I thought anxiously. by The Midnight Raven The idyllic life that the computer created for me seemed too good to be true. The goggles were lifted from my eyes I typed out a message, and the headphones removed from my ears, but I still tried One that surged with heart and revealed the very depths of to hang on to the happiness “memory” as much as I could. my soul. “I can’t leave!” I screamed at the attendant. I wanted to press send, Even though the jealousy, anger, and sadness simulations Longed to see my words surrounded by the outline of blue were one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to go through, on the screen, the happiness simulation was the best I had ever felt. And But I couldn’t. maybe the best I would ever feel, which was my biggest My fingers stayed in mid-air, fear. This “ride” gave me three things. One was closure Hovering over the lines of words that echoed in my head. with Brad. The second was realizing that he was not the How easy it could have been, worst thing that has ever happened to me. And the third To just send out that message to him, was that if I leave this place, my life would go right back But that voice, to its downward spiral again. Yes, my dream job was to Those doubts, become a writer, and I would love to live in Paris. I would They swirled in my head until they were the only thing I love to be completely over Brad. But honestly, I don’t think could hear. it’s possible. The only way for me to be truly happy was to I shut my eyes, stay on this ride. Felt my lashes brush against my cheeks, “Ma’am remain calm,” the attendant said through gritted And took in a sharp breath. teeth. Although she tried to act calm I could see in her eyes My heart panged with an overwhelming feeling of despair, that she was nervous. Because I knew the hardest part was not knowing. “No, I refuse to leave this place!” I bellowed. I would If he felt the same, fight them every step of the way. They’d have to drag me If he did not, out of here. She called someone and suddenly a man in a I would never know the answer, lab coat wooshed into my room. He had a smile on his face My mind had been made up. that didn’t quite meet his eyes and I didn’t exactly trust I watched the words disappear from the screen, him. All lost in a single action. “Hi my name is Dr. Stevens and I heard that you are hav-
Deleted Words
As I pressed delete.
5
The Man
By Alex Choi The dilapidated road had a myriad of cracks in its asphalt; I cruised along the pavement. The blazing sun illuminated the grassy flatlands with rays that penetrated through my windshield and hindered my vision of the road. A gust of wind swept by as the blades of grass danced freely against the breeze. I could hear the wind faintly whispering in my ear when I took a glimpse of the rearview mirror and suddenly spotted a massive truck roaring towards me, about to ram me from behind. I clenched the steering wheel and turned right as hard I could; my car swerved off the road causing grass and dirt to fly up into the air. I could feel my wheels swerving wildly and my car teetering on the verge of tipping over, but I managed to stop the car. I just barely avoided the collision as the truck bolted past me with its horn blaring in my ears. I was panting heavily, and my muscles were tensed. I shut my eyes and put my face into my palms, reflecting how my life had just flashed before my eyes. I couldn’t believe that I was still alive! Adrenaline rushed through my body, and my heart began racing to the moon. A feeling of shock was written all over my face as I tried to regain calmness. I hesitated to step on the gas pedal and to start driving again, thinking that I would certainly die this time in some gruesome car accident. However, I had calmed myself down and regained my confidence, and I slowly put my foot on the gas pedal and began driving towards the road. However, after driving for only a minute, that was when I
“Silhouettes,” Photograph by 6 The Calico Cat
spotted him. A man wearing a baseball cap and a black leather jacket was standing to the side of the road with a wide and chilling grin across his face. He seemed to have been staring at me, but I was uncertain because I had swooped passed him and only gotten a quick glance at him. Time passed, and the road seemed to drag on for an eternity. The terrain gradually began shifting from the flat grassy plains to large, overshadowing trees. I glanced at the gas tank gauge which read that my gas tank was nearly empty. My eyes widened in bewilderment as I frowned. I had checked my gas tank gauge only an hour ago, and my tank was half full. Although in a state of bewilderment, I dismissed the peculiar incident and decided that I had simply misread the gas tank gauge and that I had to focus on finding a gas station. After driving for a few more minutes, I eventually found a gas station. The gas station seemed to be in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by thick trees with protruding limbs. The gas station seemed worn and dull with moss growing on one side. Furthermore, the letter “g” was missing in “Gas station.” I initially deduced it was abandoned and deserted due to the shabby exterior, along with the multitude of cracks along the walls. I was about to leave and search for another gas station, but a young woman who appeared to be filling her pick-up truck suggested that it was open. I strolled through the entrance and parked my car along one of the fuel dispensers, adjacent to the young woman. The fuel dispenser was beaten and missing some pieces, but I needed the gas desperately. I hastily put the fuel pump into my car and waited curiously to see if the dispenser actually worked. To my astonishment, my tank began to be filled, and I waited for the tank to be full. I had almost forgotten about the man. Until, when I put the fuel pump back into the fuel dispenser, I saw the reflection of the man wearing the baseball cap on the fuel dispenser. His face was unshaven, and he
still had his crooked, wide smile. He had a crazed expression, and his dark, beady eyes stared straight into the windows of my eyes and into my soul. I shrieked loudly and looked behind me, but no one was there! I looked back at the fuel dispenser, but I only saw a reflection of myself. The young woman next to me gave me a concerned and curious look before driving away. The blood from my body seemed to have drained, and my skin became as white as a ghost trying to scare its victim. Beads of sweat began to run down my forehead as my hands became clammy. Shivers ran up my spine, and I could feel my feet begin to tremble slightly. I bolted straight into my car and dashed away from the gas station. My mind was racing, and I couldn’t stop thinking about the man. However, after a few minutes, I was able to breathe normally, and I dismissed the reflection of the man as my own imagination because I was dehydrated. I wiped the beads of sweat on my forehead with the backside of my hand and grabbed the water bottle that was lying next to me. I opened the cap and gulped down more than half of the bottle. Feeling more relieved, I pushed away the thought of the man and tried to concentrate on the road. I had been driving for a while now, and the blue sky was beginning to be consumed by shades of black and grey. A drop of rain fell from the sky, then another, and soon you couldn’t see anything but pouring rain. I could hear the raindrops land on the roof of my car with a thud. The wind howled against the bushes as leaves rustled interrupted only by an occasional owl hoot. The moon, which was a giant light bulb glimmered against the velvety night, provided the only source of illumination besides my headlights. The moon’s beams seeped through the tall pine trees’ limbs and trunks which casted disfigured shadows. The eerie atmosphere tensed my muscles up, and I could feel every single hair on my body standing straight up. However, I did not see the man for a long time,
and a sigh of relief fell over my face. I finally thought he had left me alone... or so I thought. I blinked my eyes, and the man suddenly reappeared on the side of the road. The hairs on my arms stuck up immediately. The sense of relief ran away from me. My palms started to perspire again. The strange man was as dry as a desert. There wasn’t a single drop on him to be seen. My jaw dropped to the ground. I cried aloud as my head spun around in circles. I slammed on the pedal, and immediately, the wheels began spinning forward, consuming the air with exhaust fumes and causing mud to spray everywhere. My car zoomed out of there so fast that not even the speed of light could catch us. I looked back through the rearview mirror, and he was gone! Goosebumps erupted on my skin, and a sense of uneasiness fell upon me. Everything seemed to be a blur as I sped away. Tears were pouring down my cheek which I wiped off with my sleeve. I was sniffling and wanted to curl up into a ball so that nothing would hurt me. Then, I spotted a dazzling, bright light among the midst of the gloomy twilight just ahead of me. As I got closer, the light intensified and shot out beams into the murky blanket of grey clouds which
reflected against the drops of rain. I realized that the gleaming light was a bar, and a sense of relief fell over my face. My hunched shoulders seemed to have relaxed, as I would finally get the chance to speak with someone and get help. I swerved into the entrance of the parking lot and splattered dirt everywhere on the trees and shrubs. I barged out of my car, stumbling and staggering in muddy, murky water until I burst through the door with raindrops dripping down my face and neck. Immediately, a gust of warmth hit my body and swept through my hair. Although my body and clothes were completely soaked with water and fear when I entered, the bar was quite cozy. There was a roaring, crackling fire at the end of the bar with flames dancing and flickering lively, which provided the only source of heat while illuminating the room. I could see the fire embers leaping and sparkling vivaciously as they exited through the chimney, followed by puffs of smoke. Along the oak walls were embellishments, such as a deer’s head on one side of the wall and many pictures of the wilderness. The tables were completely deserted; nobody was in here except for the bartender. The bartender, who appeared to be clean-
ing a wine glass with a hankerchief, was on the left side of the room. In front of him stood a beautifully crafted stainless-black marble counter while a large shelf of various types of beer and wine bottles stood behind him. Although the bar was comfortable, my sense of panic was still bubbling and boiling inside me like a witch’s cauldron, ready to ignite and explode. I charged towards the bartender and sat down in one of the stools while he continued to clean the glass. He asked me what I would like without looking up, and I shrieked out that someone has been following me. Then I felt a tap on my shoulder. The man was sitting on the stool next to me. I toppled off my chair and let out a yelp but no sound escaped my mouth. The man seemed to have stolen all the air from my lungs. For a split second, there was nothing but silence. I simply gaped at him, praying that he wouldn’t kill me as I struggled to breathe. Beads of sweat ran down my brow. Courage could nowhere be seen on my face. The room was spinning. Finally, I pointed at my pursuer and screamed that he was sitting right next to me. But to my astonishment and horror, the perplexed bartender looked at me with awe while adjusting his wirerimmed glasses and told me that he didn’t see anyone there.
Constellations
By The Wine Merchant We belong up as stars in the sky, Our constellation adorning the midnight canvas, So that our story can live for generations, When they stare up with wonder and whisper to the ones next to them, The story of the forgotten gods.
“Destroyer of Worlds,” Illustration by DIO
7
The Dragon and The Fox By Atoned
It was a warm day. There was an aroma of flowers that mixed with the sweet smell of berries, and a gentle breeze flowed over a meadow of luscious green grass. Leaves on the trees shone opalescent under a bright blue sky. And in the center of it all, stood a lone hut. In the hut, on a soft bed of straw, a dragon slept alone. This dragon was Zennyo Ryuo, as proclaimed by humans, but simply “Kano” to himself. Kano hid away in his rift--a pocket in space divided from the human world that only creatures of myth knew how to access. Such rifts were the only sanctuary from the bounty hunters who sought magic creatures for riches. Later, when Kano awoke from his slumber, he looked out the window to find the sun shone in a peculiar way that it hadn’t before. The trees had started to sway with vigor when the calm breeze changed into a torrent of winds, whipping at the side of his hut. The faint fragrance of cherry trees that had insulated the hut was replaced by a harsh metallic scent. The sky had become thick with a black smoke that grabbed his breath with malicious intent. The ground beneath his feet rumbled. Alarmed, Kano darted to the gate that allowed for the exit from the crumbling rift. Swiftly, he leapt through the gate, falling fast through a flurry of vibrant colors. Suddenly the colors stopped with a crash. Taking in the surroundings that now lay before him, he found himself in a muted grey landscape. Kano was in the human world once again. The bright jade green trees which he had remembered had been replaced with a sickly yellow-brown. The trunks that had once stood strong and tall now sagged under their own weight. Hacking out a cough, he realized that the thick black smoke that had filled his rift was 8
coming from here. He peered around in sheer dread at the once vivid and lively hillside. There were no birds, no rabbits, no foxes, and no movement except for dull leaves fluttering aimlessly in a toxic wind. Kano fell to the ground in despair as the realization set in that his home was gone. Goalless, Kano wandered a darkened forest in search of answers--or at least peace of mind. He then passed by town after abandoned town; silent, and longing for the laughter of children to fill them once more. Suddenly, near the base of Mount Fuji, a fire flared. Embers flurried skywards. Kano hurried to the vermilion flame that shone bright on the side of the mountain. Yet, mere feet away from reaching the fire that shown distinctly against the grey stones, it disappeared. As he leapt over a small stone outcrop, he happened upon nothing but burnt leaves next to a murky river of sludge. Kano, furious, snarled and whipped his tail, launching leaves outwards with an electric surge. Abruptly, he noticed the same flare which had shone moments earlier, only it was skulking away in a burrow that had been previously hidden by the leaves. Peering into the burrow, Kano realized it was a kitsune--a fox-like creature that could emit an inferno “Legend of the Night,” Illustration by DIO
from its multiple tails. He was mystified at its appearance. Kano bellowed, “Who are you? Why are you here?” The kitsune responded meekly, “I am Akane and I mean you no harm. I survived the collapse of the rifts; I am more fortunate than most.” “What do you mean by this?” asked Kano. “When the black smoke enveloped this land, we were chased from our rifts. Now each day is darker than the last. Soon all realms will be dark. This place is the last haven.” said Akane shakily. Kano stood silently in awe, stunned by the sheer magnitude of this event. Just then a resounding clap broke the quiet, and an angry bolt whizzed across an ebony sky which thundered in outrage! A sour taste filled the air; not far off the soft patter of rain began. Kano and Akane looked in terror as the trees in the distance melted into twisted abominations. “What is happening?” exclaimed Akane. “I don’t know, but it’s time to move. This place is safe no longer!” shouted Kano. The two scurried up the rock face and out of imminent danger. With a heaving chest, Kano panted,
“I believe the heavens sent fire in the form of rain.” Akane let out a heavy sigh and asked, “What will we do now? Now that-” The tumultuous sound of a bell ringing interrupted Akane. Over the tree line, Kano could see the tattered red logs of a temple. Kano and Akane made their way through a dense patch of ashened foliage, and soon found themselves at the bottom of the temple. “Hello? Is someone, anyone here?” burst Akane. They were met with only silence. In front of the temple, deteriorated komainu stared solemnly into the distance. As the two traveled up the cracked stairway into a shattered temple, they found one window still intact. A single ray of sunlight pierced the soot-filled clouds. In a burst of white light, a heavenly figure appeared before them.
“Who are you, and what do you want?” stammered Kano. Akane, just steps behind Kano, gasped. “Be at peace. I am a tennin, a messenger of the gods.” “Why have you come to us?” replied Akane. “I have come seeking help, to fix this tainted planet,” said the tennin. Kano, confused, replied, “What do you propose to do?” The tennin responded, “My powers have dwindled. I am a prisoner in this temple, no longer am I able to travel between the earth and the heavens.” “How does this matter concern us?” asked Kano. The tennin answered, “Your power might give me enough energy to make one more voyage to the heavens to plead with God to repair all the devastation that has been done to this world and your rifts.” “Very well. Stand back!” roared
Kano. Kano’s eyes flared, electric. Blue lightning now coursed through his body. The air crackled as he crouched back and lunged forward, releasing a beam of cyan plasma, which struck the tennin. Iridescent bolts now wrapped around the tennin. Like a rocket, he surged towards the heavens. Soon, the tennin disappeared into the deep smog which filled the sky. All was dark once again. The single ray that had shone through the window had been snuffed out. “What now?” shrieked Akane. Flabbergasted, Kano replied, “I haven’t a clue.” “Do you truly think that this will restore life as we knew it?” stammered Akame. To which the depleted Kano replied: “All we can do is wait...”
“Blue Roses,” Manga by Aya Hatashima (Read from Left to Right)
9
Unfeeling
“Outcast Vision,” Illustration by Jennifer Kaechele
By S.B.
In this world of grey, Should man not feel? Am I defective? For not burying my thoughts Letting them drown, For what are men without them? Simply rocks? But more orderly, Tidily scurrying, fulfilling their tasks?
La Llorona By Athena On the cobbled streets of Malinalco, a woman wandered through the streets, tears seeping down her face. Her wails echoed down the empty streets, and her cries for help fell on deaf ears. In one hand she grasped a teddy bear, in the other, a crumpled photograph of two indistinguishable people. Her wails grow louder and louder as she approaches the riverbank, and she sank to her knees in agony. Her eyes were rimmed with red so that it appeared that blood was coming out instead of tears. She lay there for days, the flow of tears never ceasing on her face. She became emaciated, and soon her throat was unable to scream any longer. With this, she cried even harder, but eventually, the tears stopped too, and she lay on the riverbed, her glassy eyes still glistening with tears. One day, a man named Juan happened upon her broken body when he was hiking. He instantly notified the people in his town. When they found the body, they were surprised to find out that they knew the woman. Although her face was sunken in and marred with death, they easily identified her as Maria, the most beautiful and beloved woman in their town. They went to her house to alert her husband, but when they got there, the house was abandoned. Maria’s beloved children were not playing anywhere in the house, and her devoted husband was nowhere to be seen. Maybe her husband wasn’t as faithful as they thought he was, the locals thought, because what kind of husband doesn’t notice his wife is missing after a couple of days? And where are the children? They never left Maria’s side, and wouldn’t have run away from home. With all of these questions piling up, the locals turned to Carlos, the local detective. Carlos’s first thought was to check the river that Maria was found by. To his horror, he found the lifeless bodies
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of Maria’s children floating face up next to a nearby river bed. His first instinct was that the husband did it, and he sent out a search party to find the elusive man. They finally found him at the house of a woman in one town over, who he appeared to be living with. He knew nothing of what happened to Maria, and when he heard what happened to his children, his eyes glazed over with tears. Carlos was puzzled because he suspected foul play in Maria and her children’s death, but no one seemed suspect of murder. Late at night, he walked the streets, trying to figure out how to solve the case. A wailing sound echoed through the streets, and a shiver ran up Carlos’s spine. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a ghostly figure floating above the ground. When he looked closer, she was crying, and holding a teddy bear in her hand. He decided to follow this ghost because it might lead him to the killer of the children. He followed the ghost down dark corridors, abandoned alleyways, all the way into the forest until they finally reached the river. Hiding behind a tree, Carlos saw the ghost kneel to the ground and start crying, her wails growing in intensity every second. Her dress is the same one that Juan found Maria in, he realized. And this is the exact spot where she died. Suddenly everything started to make sense to Carlos. There wasn’t a murderer on the loose, killing innocent children and women, the killer was right in front of him, weeping by the river bed. Her husband didn’t seem to love Maria anymore, and in a fit of jealousy, she must have tossed her children into the river. Carlos’s mind was finally appeased, but the ghost wasn’t going away any time soon. Once a month in Malinalco, the streets will be abandoned at night, because the locals warn about La Llorona, the crying lady in white. Children aren’t allowed to play by the riverside because parents fear that La Llorona will lead them to their watery deaths. Her soul never at rest, she’ll be wandering the streets of Malinalco till the end of time.
A Long Walk Home By S.B. The night was even more silent than it was dark. A boy stepped, quickly, loudly, yearning for the comfort of his bed. He seemed to be of middle school age, dressed in his best: a polo and khakis. The mist that escaped his lips seemed to give away his position, and as he passed by street-lamps created a skeletal shadow. Every time he went by one, he looked at his hands. They were dried out. The veins on his fingers showed. At least it kept his eyes away from his shadow. The lamps on each side of the street made it look like some kind of horrible spider, undulating as it stalked him. Tap tap… The sound came from behind him. Two loud footsteps. He heard them clear as day. He expected to turn around only to see a hooded man jump out at him. He could swear he could hear someone breathing. He turned around. The street looked exactly as it had before. The sight of a flickering street-lamp made him uneasy, but such things weren’t uncommon. He turned around once more to continue walking. Ha ha A man’s voice had laughed behind him in a rasp. He could swear to it. He wanted to turn around but someone was messing with him. If he was going to be pranked he didn’t
want to put on a show. Ha ha. Patter patter patter patter. He heard the same noise and a rush of footsteps as a chill dripped down his spine. If something was going to kill him he didn’t want to put on a show. “No,” he thought, “I don’t want to be easy prey.” I’m going to take you The whisper in his ear sounded like it was in pure ecstasy. A rush of hot air on his neck was certainly someone-something’s awful breath. He swore he even saw the mist rush by his face. So he ran, and ran, and ran, until there were no more streetlamps. Nothing but pitch black. He kept running, only to find more darkness. And he kept running. And he kept running. He couldn’t find anything. He hooked a right turn, and suddenly he realized. I’m not anywhere. “SOMEBODY? ARE YOU THERE? ANYBODY, PLEASE?” He called out frantically only to be met with an echo. He then realized what the voice had meant by ‘take him’. He started to run in circles, praying to be met with a concrete wall. All he found was more blackness. He had crossed some gate to another place. Purgatory maybe? After who knows how long, he still wasn’t thirsty. Rather just alone and afraid. Perhaps the voice he heard was someone who ended up like him? He slumped down on the black floor, never to know.
Halloween Spirit By Anonymous Sweet treats, spooky feats, magical tricks, a Halloween mix. Fairies and goblins, and all make-believe, a night of imagination, on All Hallows’ Eve
“Sunflower Field,” Photograph by Bubbles
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Muted Light
“A Drop of Gold,” Photograph by Blue Serendipity
Vérité
It’s dark outside when she sits down. She doesn’t know why she expected any differently. It’s always dark in their little corner of the world. Even indoors, their pitiful attempts at candles get snuffed out within seconds. She supposes it was hope. An hour ago, for exactly a minute, she had hope and the world seemed lighter. But then Sara’s twitch turned out to be just a breeze and everything dimmed once more.
Deep in the Night
By The Cold Hearted Queen
Sometimes I sit in the kitchen in the middle of the night. The house is deathly still, and the air is cool and serene. There’s a large bay window in front of our kitchen table, A noise sounds far off to their left, too close to come from a allowing me to stare off into a blank, pitch-black abyss. As lighter corner of the world but too far to be anything more I sit with a mug of tea in my hands, I can hear the clock than a distant worry. It sounds like the fluttering and beatticking away behind me. It goes on and on, and my heart ing of a thousand wings, if those wings had been muted too begins to beat to it’s steady rhythm. My eyes are glued to many times to fly. the empty scene in front of me. Everything sounds muted here. She’s not sitting anymore, just leaning on the door. Again she wonders if it would be better to throw caution to the winds and truly try their luck in the darkness. To just grab Sara’s limp form and run, hoping for light. She laughs at the thought, remembering the two of them back when Sara was still breathing. Lady Luck and Lady Misfortune, ready to take on the world. Believing they could handle anything. The sky seems. . . lighter? She shakes her head and pulls herself back together. It’s dark again and she’s sure she was imagining it. The fluttering sounds again, a little closer this time. She heads inside. Outside, the dark sky shimmers with a wavering pinprick of light. “Bird,” Photograph by Bubbles
The window is roughly 5ft in height, and 7ft in length, yet at night it seems overwhelmingly large. A strange sense of fear and danger begins to take root in my stomach but I don’t move from my seat. My mind begins to race with the idea of a murderer lurking within the trees outside and my fingers clutch the mug tightly. Only a large panel of glass separates me from whatever was hidden within the trees on the other side. When did humans learn to fear the dark? After all, to some, night was day. I knew I was perfectly safe within my house, but there’s always that little inkling of doubt. Fifteen millimeters of glass was all that stood between me and whatever was on the other side. What makes my house safe anyways? It’s a box with walls less than a foot in width and an opening covered with a panel of wood. Outside leaves rustle and twigs snap. My heart trips over the clock’s rhythm and stumbles onto it’s own fast-paced trot. My mug has gone cold over time, and the cold spreads from my hands to my shoulders. It runs down my spine and leaves behind a trail of goosebumps. I search the window for the cause of my fear, but the abyss has grown in size. It surrounds me in the kitchen and wraps around my mind in a terrifying grasp. Fifteen millimeters of glass was all that stood between me and whatever was on the other side.
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Falling By S.B.
Have you ever watched a leaf fall? I ask tearfully. No one seems to understand. Transitory flashes of red and orange fill my eyes. As the world’s sunset begins, I shudder knowing night is to come. When all the trees are skeletons. I watch wayward leaves fall, erratic in their motion and predictable in their end. The whole journey is a spectacle, leaves dancing in the air for as long as they can. The paths that they take show me the wind, only a few errant leaves spinning out like shooting stars. I’m looking up, but all I do is keep going, crushing more as I walk. I fall farther ahead, waiting for the road to continue. My thoughts are painted in blue watercolors, and my feet feel even heavier. Every footfall against concrete is like metal on glass. Bang, bang, bang. My feet fall farther down the road. I don’t want to watch the trees die. The tallest tree in my neighborhood is covered with vines. Standing above all others, it’s not a pretty thing, but it’s impressive. I wonder if it feels pain. Tied down and lacerated, it still managed to take a breath of the canopy. Surely all the trees are in pain. Every Autumn all of the trees are dying. Imagine losing your fingers every winter and having them grow back in spring.
Stumbling In The Dark By The Midnight Raven
Darkness fills my vision as I blink open my eyes. I reach out my fingertips, Trying to feel around the space for something to ground me. But my hands come back empty. I stop for a moment and hold my breath, Straining my ears against the silence, But I am only met with the quiet. But suddenly, a light begins to shine. The dark dissipates as a warm golden glow begins to surround me. I can see a window now and I trip towards it. Rain trickles down outside and leaves streaks of water across the glass. I gaze out at the red and orange leaves that cascade slowly to the empty street. Then I blink, And when I reopen my eyes, All I can see is that same darkness. The light came and then it was gone, All in a single flash of bliss. It came so fast, I began to question if the light had truly come on at all. “Walk Away,” Photograph by Yellow Seesaw
Why am I walking? All of a sudden I feel nervous. Falling faster and faster down the road. Where am I going? The wind picks up, blowing me one way and another. Branches fall and kill people all the time. Maybe it’s time to get home. Why am I so scared? I know myself best. There’s a reason I’m shaking. Why do I feel like it’s all going to end so horribly? Why, why, why can’t I fight it? I’m falling further and further ahead. When will I hit the ground?
The Joys of Autumn By The Calico Cat Leaves crunch underfoot Skies painted in red and gold Trees dance in the breeze
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“The Pumpkin Seed,” Illustration by Marz
Cinderella Dresses By Calliope
After the first time our eyes met, the darkness is what pulled us apart. Over the years a million different strings and a million different things would keep us from each other, but the first night it was but the darkness between us and the strings of the Fates playing us like their ancient violin. From that day, we would spend three decades pulling past their strings to find each other for the final time. Six years old and running down the dark streets of my neighborhood, pink Sketchers flashing underneath my Cinderella costume. A plastic orange basket slung over one arm, the giggles of children who are out far later than they are normally allowed to be ringing in my ears as I skip to the door of yet another house. After taking a fistful of candy from the bowl left in front of the house, I turn and run smack into her. We both fall to the ground with an audible thud, our matching blue dresses flowing out over the grass and our candy baskets tipping over, scattering the pieces into each other. We both sit up as I mumble apologies and our parents come running over to make sure we are alright. We both stand, throwing our candies into our respective buckets as we go. She reaches for the final piece as my hand closes around it. I look up into her face for the first time, my cheeks red and warm despite the cold October winds that swirl around us. Her eyes met mine, brown on green. “Do you want it?” I ask, ducking my head and picking at some dirt on my costume as I do so. “Yes please,” she replies her face brightening as her small hand closes around the candy in my outstretched hand, “I like your Cinderella dress, it’s pretty like mine.” Her father clears his throat loudly from behind us and she blushes deeply, highlighting the freckles that were scattered across her nose and cheeks. “I’m sorry for running into you,” she said softly, “I didn’t mean to.” “It’s okay,” I respond. My mother beckons for me to move on, there are more houses on our street and my siblings want to get as much candy as possible “Happy Halloween,” she calls, waving as I start to walk away. I wave back and skip over to where my mother stood at the edge of the street, my shoes lighting up once more. A few houses later, I realized that I had forgotten to ask what her name was.
October Magic By S.B.
Jack o’ lanterns alight, biting cold Circumvented by “frightening costumes” And too many little iron men, In ironed costumes, drowsy children Traipse down the crowded street. As a child, I liked to catch the leaves, Snatching the reddest ones in my sights, Pink, palms, blushed cheeks, my only reward. Yet maybe a touch of magic too, From the October air. There is nothing like a child’s mind, Find me another just the same, Playing in the cold, finding pure joy. In imagining a magic world, Dressing like their dreams.
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Cyan Skies: Winter (1) By Blue Serendipity
Arlo was sure that there was a sun at some point in time. Eddie and Sarah used to talk about how blue the sky used to be, and the pleasant sounds birds used to make in the early mornings. But the world he knew was a cold, desolate ruin. In the early morning Arlo only heard the howl of wind or the sound of snow crunching underneath a starving animal. Icicles hung off everything like clear stalactites and he was careful not to touch them. He remembered a time when he and his friends used to break them off and spar with each other like little kids. But that was a long time ago. Clouds blanketed the sky in a backdrop of grey gloom. Trees were brittle bare skeletons, shuddering every time a gust of wind blew through them. He was sure that the weather used to be bearable at some point in his
life because Fred said the July sun would feel like a fire was being held a foot away from you all day. Arlo dreamed of a large flame high in the sky, melting the snow all around him and chasing away the dark clouds. When he woke up, he just felt cold. He never felt disappointed, there was never any actual desire for a sun. All Arlo knew was the cold. That, and the fact that he needed to stay hidden. He took great care in staying away from people and isolating himself like his buddies taught him to. It was easier now that the frequent snow storms were covering up his tracks for him. Frida had told them that the world would warm up eventually, but these storms were happening more and more often. It seemed as if the world was getting colder instead. Building a fire was quick and easy but it was difficult to conceal. Arlo chose to spend his time finding places to hide from the harsh bitter winds instead. By curling up in a wrecked car or crumbling building, he sheltered himself from the wind and used his body heat to warm the room.
“Cloudy Waves,” Photograph by Blue Serendipity
Cars were the safest option because of how small and inconspicuous they were. It was much easier to stay warm within a small enclosed space than a ruined head of rubble. Most people didn’t use cars anymore since the roads were always covered in snow and ice. They deserted their vehicles and chose to live in sheltered neighborhoods or military bases instead. Cities were full of empty buildings but they were crawling with scavengers or infected. The government would send groups of soldiers through the place searching for members of the rebellion or immunes with bounties. Immunes such as himself. “Heya Alro, how ya doin’?” asked a man from a couple feet away. His voice was muffled by the ringing in his ear. Two women and three men stood behind the man looking tense but Arlo couldn’t be sure. They were all blurring in and out. “What happened?” Arlo croaked. Every muscle in his body strained as he sat up on the ground. His wild curly hair was poking him in the eyes so he brushed them back with his hand. When he pulled his hand away, it was covered in blood. “What the—?” “You don’t remember?” the man asked slowly. Arlo tried to look at him properly but his blurred vision caused the man to look like a stick of birch wood with red fuzz on top. “I don’t remember anything,” said Arlo subconsciously lying back down. .There was a bit of murmuring before two pairs of
arms grabbed his shoulders. Arlo groaned and his head lolled a bit to the side as an overwhelming wave of dizziness whirled through him. It was the man who had spoken and another man who had numerous scars on his face. Arlo could make out four old knife wounds racing across his cheeks and forehead. They lugged him onto his feet, tossed his arms over their shoulders, and began dragging him through the forest while the others covered their tracks. The blurriness slowly began to fade away and Arlo managed to make out three more scars on the second man’s face. Parts of his skin was raised and bumpy while other parts were scabbed over. “Mate, you went in to steal some food and the govies caught you!” exclaimed an asian man. “Govies?” “Yeah, government soldiers,” explained an asian woman. “They blew up the building.” “Blew up the building?” “You literally flew outta there! C’mon, we gotta get movin’,” said the red-haired man hastily quickening his steps. The snow flooded into his boots as he limply tried to put one foot in front of the other. He dazedly listened to the large stocky man reintroduce him to his memories. His name was Arlo Frey Dunn and that he grew up with them in Southampton before the war. The red-haired man was Eddie,
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the scarred man was Jackie the last man was Vinne, the asian woman was Vinnie’s twin Frida, and the other woman was Sarah. All the names and new faces made Arlo’s head swirl. “They’re going to put a bounty on your head now, Arl,” said Vinnie as they set him down on the floor of a cave. He and Frida pulled Arlo’s boots off his feet and put them on sticks in front of a fire to dry out. Eddie and Fred moved to the mouth of the cave and used a large branch on top of a rock to roll a boulder in front of it. Almost immediately the cave began to warm up. “Why?” Arlo asked, his head pounding. Every time he tried to remember something they told him nothing came up. He couldn’t remember a single thing about himself. It frustrated him to no end and it didn’t help that there was blood trickling down his temple. “Govies hate scavengers. We take the food they gluttons hoard to keep ourselves alive,” said Frida spitefully. She bit down on a piece of dark thin fabric and tore a long strip off. She used it to wrap it around his head like a bandage. “They’ve seen your face. They’ll do anything to kill you.” “Yeah, they’ll probably say you were a soldier. Makes the other scavengers scared of you so they don’t shelter you. I’ve seen it before.” Vinnie glanced over his shoulder at Fred and Eddie and they both nodded in agreement. “But us? We’re a family, alright? Maybe you don’t remember us, but we protect each other. Got it?” 16
ies - of his location. Shuffling over the gearstick to the back seats, he curled up and took out a single slice of stale bread. He had three fourths of a loaf smushed into the interior of one of his coat pockets and a bottle of beans into the other. He discarded the Every once in a while can since it took up space he’d encounter another and had no use. Two years scavenger trying do whatago he would’ve used it as a ever it took to survive. He pot but that had been when hated killing, but he had to the others were still around. do what he had to do. In They could’ve fought off addition, most scavengers any other scavengers who had a bit of food or a cousmelled the cooking food ple matches on them. Arlo and wanted it for themcould use matches to buy newer, warmer clothes from selves. Now that they were the freight train dealers or a gone, Arlo knew he should bag of stale bread from any try and join another group for the protection. Except scavengers who didn’t try Vinnie had been right. Sure, to kill him on sight. At the moment, he was doing well the scavengers were willin terms of clothes and food. ing to trade with him, but Tonight he had hit it pretty none of them were willing lucky. There was an old car to be around him more than necessary. After a couple rammed into a tree just off the side of a small farm road messy incidents concerning that looked as if it had been there for months. Some idiot probably thought he could drive in between snow storms. Since it was such an old model, he knew he could break into it without too much difficulty. Arlo blew hot hair onto his fingers before pushing a thin piece of wire he had bent in two into the car lock. After jiggling it up and down a couple times he heard the sound of a lock and opened the car door. There was no point in trying to hotwire the car since the front of the car looked completely busted. Besides, driving a car would attract too much unwanted attention. The sound of a car engine would immediately notify other scavengers - or worse, govArlo slowly nodded. There was nothing else he could do. All he knew was what they told him. His name was Arlo Frey Dunn, the govies were bad, and this group of scavengers were good. “Got it.”
other groups, Arlo gave up and accepted his isolation. Ironically, it was safer for him to be by himself than surrounded by others. It didn’t matter, Arlo was doing perfectly fine on his own and had been doing fine for the past two years. He sighed contentedly as he swallowed the last morsel of his squashed bread and leaned into the stiff car seats. Even though he was full and comfortable, he didn’t allow himself to drift off to sleep completely. Time and mistakes taught him to sleep with one eye open. Arlo woke up at the slightest of sound, no matter what it was. Most of the time it was just the wind howling angrily and throwing miniscule chunks of ice at the car. Arlo didn’t blame it for being angry. He hated this cold and bitter world as well. To Be Continued...
“Jack Skellington,” Photograph by Bubbles