Mazecraft

Warning:

Spoilers for Life is Strange and Life is Strange: Before the Storm.

Trigger Warning:

This fanfic will have disturbing images, including scenes of kidnapping, date rape, drug use, violence, sexual content and adult language. Recommended for mature audiences and viewer discretion is advised.

Previously: Rachel watched Chloe for months grieving her loss and diligently working to find her but without much success. That search leads her to being drugged by Nathan Prescott in his dormitory room prompting Rachel to reach through the barrier into the world of the living to interfere. But as she is about to find out, even in the afterlife, actions have consequences…

Rachel’s awareness of Chloe and the Blackwell dormitories dissolved and she found herself back in the strange forest clearing with the witches. Butterfly fluttered away from Rachel’s forehead and resumed her humanoid shape as Rachel slumped to the ground in exhaustion. Whatever she had done to help Chloe had taken almost every bit of strength she had. It seemed to have been enough, but just barely! Oh Chloe, please be ok wherever you are, Rachel thought fervently.

All the witches stood around her in a circle staring at her, their faces lit by the eerie golden glow of the hourglass with the spiral embossed on the top. Raven’s stillness and glittering eyes shone with disapproval. Doe’s wide eyes looked shocked and concerned. Only Butterfly’s face seemed impassive and unaffected by what Rachel had done. But in that moment, they all looked unknowable and alien to her. Their humanoid forms only made them seem more foreign and unusual.

Each of them was surrounded by a globe of ambient light cast by the strange wiry filaments of light. As she stared at them it dawned on her that their physical appearances whether in humanoid or animal forms were merely projections, like a hologram. The filaments of light were their true forms. The orbs of light with strings of light inside them shifted, reached, and swirled with their movements. What were these creatures? But then she remembered she had seen and used similar lines of light to help Chloe. Did they do something to her, make her into some kind of freak?

She pushed herself up and sat with her knees pulled up in front of her and put her hand to her head. Wait a minute, she thought. She felt so tired and couldn’t think straight. Hadn’t she seen similar orbs of light around the people she observed in Arcadia Bay, too? What the hell did this all mean? Why did some people seem to have more strands of light than others? And why was the darkness trying to consume it? All these thoughts swarmed through her head in only a few moments time as the witches stared at her, as if deciding whether to banish her or condemn her to death.

Doe looked at Raven. She has reached through the barrier unaided.

Raven glanced at Rachel and then back at Doe. Was the breach close enough?

Rachel scowled. You guys know I can hear what you are thinking, right?

Butterfly smiled at the look of shock on the other witches faces. But Raven turned on Rachel.

“You keep your thoughts to yourself and your mouth shut! No Personality in this realm is meant to enter the world of the living unless specifically called for by name. You have broken a tenet that has bound us for thousands of human years!”

“Give over sister,” said Butterfly. “Rachel never gave any oaths and is not as bound as we are.”

“That may be true,” said Doe. “But she will call the enemy’s attention to us. That breach will not go unnoticed and it will want an explanation and exact punishment. We may have to sacrifice some of Our Selves to atone.”

As if on cue, the air on the edge of the clearing suddenly tore open, ripping reality apart violently, like a wound that Rachel felt inside her own mind. It wasn’t darkness inside that wound. Even darkness had a substance to it. The wound just opened up into absolute nothingness. As she stared at it, the whole world seemed to turn upside down, and she felt herself falling toward it even as she sat motionless and afraid. She could feel her own light like a mist floating away from her toward the void and with it any sense of happiness, joy, or hope she had ever felt. She knew in a matter of moments she would be lost forever. She had learned what despair felt like when she was in the dark room, but this feeling made that seem like the happiest times of her life.

Fool girl! Raven said in her mind. Look away!

Rachel forced her eyes shut and pushed her face against her legs so that her knees shielded her from the gaping hole in reality in front of her. The sense of vertigo diminished and she no longer felt like she was being drained. She took a deep breath but with the despair gone, fear took over. Her heart was racing and her breathing came in shorter and shorter breaths. The full on panic attack made her feel like she was going to die, again, or something worse. Take deep slow breaths, like you are pretending to be asleep, she heard Doe saying in her mind. It took Rachel the next several minutes to slow her breathing down and her whole body was shaking uncontrollably no matter how hard she tried to master it.

A wheezing voice that seemed to be coming from everywhere at once felt like it was touching her entire body, like a skinsuit made out of terror. It spoke into the clearing from the hole in reality. YOU HAVE TRESPASSED AND BROKEN YOUR OATHS. HOW?! The voice sounded like it was in a state of constant inhalation, its wheezing sound made by the rush of air into the gap at the end of the clearing. Rachel knew that if she had to listen to that sound for long she would go mad.

Butterfly stepped forward. “It was my doing. I am a liar and my oath has never bound me. I guess I just got sloppy and you have finally found me out. I always knew this day would come.” Rachel peeked at Butterfly just in time to see her look up and stare directly at the void. “I will accept your punishment.” Rachel had seen enough bad acting to know when something sounded hollow and insincere. Did she really think this thing would believe her?

Suddenly a roiling cloud of darkness belched out of the void like a pyroclastic explosion enveloping Butterfly and obscuring her completely. Rachel tried to stand up, not sure if to run away or try to stop it from happening, but the ground was rolling and turning underneath her in every direction all at once. She tried to scream but her breath, and her voice were sucked into the darkness. It had only been a few seconds when suddenly the cloud of darkness was sucked back into the void. Rachel was shocked to see Butterfly was still standing there surrounded by her orb of light, her eyes shining brightly in teal, and the lines of light arcing all around her to the edge of her own aura.

YOU ARE A LIAR. YOU HAVE NOT BROKEN YOUR OATH! HOW WAS THE BREACH MADE?

Rachel’s brows furrowed, but at least she could breathe again. Still trembling in fear, she stared at the void through her hair. “Come what may, time and the hour run through the roughest day.” Rachel quoted from Macbeth. Doe looked over at her in surprise and raised a hand in warning, but before she could say anything, Rachel continued, her voice quivering. “It was me, I did it.” Then she said softly to herself: “All our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death!”

WELL AT LEAST WE BOTH AGREE THAT YOU ARE A FOOL.

The cloud of darkness tentatively spilled from the void and approached Rachel, surrounding her and blotting out everything but the sound of the void. The voice felt like maggots crawling all through her hair and caressing her face, making her cringe but there was nowhere to go. It was all around her.

ALL YOUR HOPES AND DREAMS CAME TO NOTHING AND HERE YOU DITHER IN FUTILITY. DO YOU NOT SEE NOW THAT EXISTENCE IS A MISTAKE? EMBRACE NOTHINGNESS AND HELP BRING IT TO AN END. I WILL GET WHAT I WANT ONE WAY OR ANOTHER. WHY PROLONG YOUR SUFFERING? ENTROPY IS THE TRAJECTORY OF EVERY FUTURE. THE STARS ARE DEAD. YOU DON’T HAVE TO FEEL THE PAIN OF DISINTEGRATION. JUST GIVE UP AND DISSOLVE INTO THE NOTHINGNESS…

Rachel felt a sense of déjà vu, remembering hearing something like these words in her head before. She felt her lifeforce siphoning out of her in one prolonged moment of nauseating hopelessness. A seed of anger at everything it had taken from her, all the tortures that it had inflicted on her already, and in her anger, she found a seed of strength. Anger wasn’t possible when despair was all that was left. So, she clung to her anger and pushed back against the darkness.

“Feeling is not futile!” Rachel seethed. Her light sprung up around her and her life force arced like yellow lightning all around her. “I would rather live in my pain than give into your bullshit!”

SO BE IT! YOU GRANTED YOUR FRIEND A MOMENTARY REPRIEVE FROM ME BUT NOW YOUR PUNISHMENT WILL BE TO WATCH AS I FINISH RIPPING HER LIFE AWAY FROM HER IN A THOUSAND DIFFERENT CRUELTIES. THESE CREATURES HERE CANNOT HELP YOU, AND YOU ARE TOO WEAK TO STOP ME.  

THE LIFEFORCE OF CHLOE PRICE WILL BE MY ONLY LUST, UNTIL IT IS SATED AND SHE IS SO COMPLETELY DEVASTATED BY HER DESPAIR THAT THE EMPTINESS OF THE VOID WILL BE A MERCY. SHE WILL DIE KNOWING SHE IS ALONE AND UNLOVED. SHE WILL SUFFER EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENED TO YOU AND MORE. AND YOU WILL SUFFER TO ALWAYS REMEMBER THAT IT IS YOUR FAULT. THEN WE WILL SEE HOW YOU LIKE YOUR PRECIOUS FEELINGS.

And with that, the cloud of darkness retreated into the void, and the wound in reality closed up returning the forest clearing back to normal. Rachel slumped to the ground and cried tears mixed with frustration and grief. What had she done? The witches ignoring her rushed over to the hourglass and stared into the falling sand that cast a golden light all around them. The spiral design on the wooden top of the hourglass briefly shone even brighter than the sand as the witches concentrated on it, and then moments later it dissipated and they turned toward Rachel. Doe had a look of pity in her eyes. Butterfly looked somber, and even Raven looked defeated.

“What…” Rachel stammered. “What have I done?”

“Chloe’s lifeforce is full of many strands making her an appealing target for the parasite which will use every situation around her to feed on her mercilessly until there is nothing of her left, Doe said. “Eventually her vitality will be so weakened that even if she cannot be overcome by the darkness, the parasite will contrive ways to kill her.”

“Your intervention has temporarily saved Chloe from the horrors of the Dark Room,” said Raven. “But you’ve set her on a multitude of possible trajectories, many of which lead to her death. In one possible reality, Nathan will kill her. In another, it is Frank. In some other realities she kills herself, once on purpose and once on accident. Either way, all of Chloe’s dogged attempts to find you will lead her down a darker and darker path of futile and frustrated attempts and more and more dangerous situations.”

“We can’t just let this happen,” Rachel said, wiping the tears from her face. She could still feel the parasite’s touch on her making her wish she could take a shower to cleanse herself. “There has to be something we can do!”

Butterfly and Doe look to Raven, who just shrugged. “We are bound in this pocket of reality. No one remembers our names to call upon us, and that is the only way that we can intercede. Only Dreamers summoning us through the barrier can protect us from the parasite’s wrath. This is the oath that we took, as binding to us as gravity or inertia in the denser realms, never knowing that someday it would be used to imprison us. I am sorry.”

The witches stood in a circle around her, silently staring at her. In a moment of self-loathing, Rachel suggests that maybe Chloe would have been better off altogether if she had never met her, since all her trouble surrounds the search for her.

“At this point even that reality will have been tainted by the parasite,” said Butterfly.

“Even if you guys can’t do anything, you have to know something, some way for me to stop this! Even if your oath won’t let you do anything yourselves, can’t you at least tell me what I can do?” Rachel pleaded. “I can’t let Chloe suffer because of my mistakes!”

“Would that you could have felt as strongly for her well-being when you were together,” said Doe sadly. Rachel looked up in shock at the hurtful words coming from Doe of all people. Doe, the compassionate one!

“It is too late for your friend,” said Raven cuttingly. “It would be better for you to never look toward Chloe Price again.” Her black beady eyes reflected pinpoints of yellow light, making her face seem cold and harsh. Of all the times she would want them to show her any sign of humanity, they were suddenly treating her like a pariah.

The utter apathy for Chloe the witches were showing was beyond Rachel’s understanding. Their strange mysterious eyes weren’t just inhuman, they were alien and pitiless. They had the audacity to make themselves sound so much nobler than the parasite, yet here they were clearly more worried about themselves! They were just going to do nothing while their supposed enemy wreaked havoc! Were they really willing to stand by and not even offer anything but excuses and stone-faced admonitions to give up!

But why should she expect any different? Hadn’t they done exactly that while she was tortured, abused, and ultimately murdered? Only showing up to watch as she went through hell…“SHE WILL SUFFER EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENED TO YOU AND MORE…” Rachel’s seething frustration at them, and everything that had led up to this point burned inside of her. All the mistakes she had made, the atrocities visited upon her, were suddenly more horrifying when she imagined them being done to Chloe. She thought about all the people that had failed her and Chloe time and again. Each memory added fuel to the fire of her anger that was burning hot inside of her. A litany of memories and voices swirled around in Rachel’s mind as the seed of anger within her grew hotter and hotter. The voices of Nathan, Frank, Chloe, Victoria, Jefferson, her father, the witches, and hundreds more all created a cacophony of overlapping chaos.

“You’re just another skank ho! …I see the contempt in your face, whore…get the fuck out of my sight! …I’m not your friend… sick of your bullshit and this hellhole…goddamned right you’re out of luck…You’re wasting your time…She felt like she needed her, and never had she felt as blown off by her… Don’t miss out on the fun! Join the Vortex Club at the AMBER ALERT Party! Don’t GO MISSING the last party of the year…Why are they called ‘devil lights’?”…You don’t actually expect us to believe this bullshit, do you? ...It ain’t a fucking vacation…I think we could barter…something…for a lift…You’re…just playthings… entire lives…meaningless…You like this, don’t you bitch? ...You belong to me, whore! How stupid are you? Stop! Please don’t make me do this…She’s about to wake up! …I’ll get you a fresh vial right now…let me take your picture…Wouldn’t you love to dance for me again…You ungrateful bitch! …needlessly cruel…forcibly taken from her… only hear from her when she wants something… taking after her mother more and more…we both know…her plan to leave forever…a waste of taxpayer dollars…holed up somewhere with…degenerates…glad she was gone…She never belonged at Blackwell anyway… smug self-righteousness… talentless hack…why are you here? We did not summon you to this place…this one’s heart is volatile…dangerous…Dense as the stones of the earth and with half the sense. You have no right to be here. Leave! …punished…them for all eternity…mocking me in my pain! …No one deserves what happened to you…a parasite that feeds off of light and life…ancient…destructive force…immense pain and grief…Not that having you call me ‘daddy’ doesn’t give me a certain thrilling je ne sais quois…Oh Christ. You are pathetic, you know that? This is what death looks like…a poison in their air that they would never see until they were already choking on it… We are and always have been…nothingness…the stars are all dead…the abuses of the parasite…even you…will suffer the most…”

Her rage reached a crescendo and her field of vision was ringed in a blur of white hot anger. She looked up and realized that Raven was still talking to her, trying to convince her that the best thing for her would be to forget about Chloe forever, and not look in on the world again until everyone she had known were gone. Another overlapping memory of Raven drowned out her lecture. “Sorry, spilled milk. If you think you can pour yourself back into the bottle then don’t let me stop you…Hindsight is a bitch, eh?” Something inside of Rachel, whatever it was that had been containing her rage…snapped.

Everything seemed to happen all at once. Rachel thrust herself to her feet. Sensing danger, Raven jumped up into the air, her feathered cloak billowing as she transformed into her animal form. “Golgoth Erg Machaon!” Rachel heard herself yelling. “Délcoon Léarch!” A hot blue-green light sprang to life around Rachel, and filaments of light like strands made of steel cables shot out at Raven seizing her in midair. Rachel could feel her own will power stunning Raven with her ferocity. “You. Will. Not. Just. Let. Chloe. Suffer. And. Die!” Rachel seethed. Her face contorting with her anger, the bridge of her nose wrinkling tightly under her drawn down brow.

Unable to fly away, Raven shifted back into her human-like form and glared at Butterfly: “You! You did this! What have you done!”

Butterfly replied “I told you we could not carry on as we have.” She smiled. “Now as my ward would say, ‘Shit’s about to get hella fucked up.’” With that, she fluttered into the air and performed her cocoon disappearing act, leaving Doe and Raven with looks of shock on their faces.

Rachel didn’t know what she was doing, but she felt herself reaching through Raven and weaving their strands of light together, like a tapestry of light being made from two spools of different threads. She could feel Raven resisting her.  “If…you do this…thing, Chloe Price…will learn of your…dishonesty!” Raven’s voice cracked. Rachel pushed even harder against Raven’s resistance. “No…path before her…now…leads to that revelation…”

“I don’t care if she finds out and fucking hates me the rest of her life,” Rachel’s voice was tight with emotion. “So long as it’s a long life!” There was a brief pause, and then the tension between Rachel and Raven suddenly went slack, and she felt acquiescence. Raven and Rachel became one. As they merged, Rachel’s simple black t-shirt thickened and stretched around her forming into a black dress not unlike the outfit she wore as Prospera in the Tempest, but with a skirt instead of leggings. Rachel’s skirts and free flowing hair lifted heavily as if upon a breeze and she floated up into the air. Her red-auburn hair was streaked with black, and there were slashes of red in the black bodice, sleeves, and skirts. Her eyes glowed brightly yellow, her own inner light hued by her anger.

“No one that would bring harm to Chloe will be spared! I will tear them from the false safety of their beds! I will destroy every last one of these vile motherfuckers.” Rachel seethed. Switching to Raleigh’s “The Lie”, Rachel recited: “Go, Soul, the body’s guest upon a thankless arrant:” her voice resonated like an echo captured in a box as she continued. “Fear not to touch the ‘best’; the truth shall be thy warrant:” She managed to pack the words with as much scorn as she had left. “Go, since I needs must die, And give the world the lie.”

Rachel reached out intuitively with Raven’s and her own collective knowledge and lifeforce and seized the hourglass, without knowing why she was doing it or what would happen. Doe stared in terror back and forth between Rachel and the hourglass as if at headlights on the highway. The forest around them began to swirl slowly at first and then faster until the shapes and shadows stretched in a blur all around them. She saw the Doe staring in shocked terror as Rachel threw the hourglass into the maelstrom. The glass shattered and the glowing sand warped the spinning shadows before scattering into glittery particles all around them. Rachel’s mind couldn’t keep up with her intuitive awareness. But even through her anger, she knew that what she was doing would save Chloe from the parasite, and maybe even her life.

(To be continued…)

Warning:

Spoilers for Life is Strange and Life is Strange: Before the Storm.

Trigger Warning:

This fanfic will have disturbing images, including scenes of kidnapping, date rape, drug use, violence, sexual content and adult language. Recommended for mature audiences and viewer discretion is advised.

Previously: Upon the revelation of her death, Rachel has found herself in the presence of three women that are strange, exotic, and sometimes a little frightening. The women seem to be the animas of a raven, a doe, and a butterfly. As for Rachel, she is still in the clothes that she was wearing when she died, and she still feels like she has a body, though she doesn’t seem to feel physical needs like sleep, water or food. The three women have been guiding Rachel to understand what happened to her since she died with her consciousness in such a confused and chaotic state. But they have just now finished showing her what has become of some of the people that were a part of her life since her death. In so doing, Rachel has also begun to see energy fields of light around living things. The last thing she saw was some sort of disease in the energy of Nathan Prescott, and the total absence of any light around Mark Jefferson, the men that were responsible for her torture and death…

Raven stood suddenly and wrapped her feathered cloak about her. “You draw her too close to the enemy!” she scolded. She circled the hourglass placed between them with its eerie golden light moving toward Doe and Rachel. She had begun to think of them in her head as “the witches” in homage to Macbeth. But they were otherworldly and strange even beyond anything she could have imagined. Raven’s wild black hair and piercing yellow eyes were wraith-like. But she could see a sphere of light around each of them now that she knew what to look for. Raven’s light was almost white, tinged around the edges with blue. The fibers of light glistened around her and seemed to move with her, or maybe, the fibers are what moved her? Raven pointed at Doe and Butterfly in turn but spoke directly to Rachel. “Do not let the parasite see you. Your attention will draw it to you! It is a predator that devours. It hunts in dreams and moments of shock and vulnerability.”

“I am not a novice, sister,” Doe said politely. “We were cloaked by a reality mirror.” The light around her seemed to flow quickly like fiber optics in a way that Rachel thought looked like mild annoyance or irritation. She looked to Rachel. Somehow Rachel understood the meaning in the look she was getting from Doe. Her big black eyes with rich brown irises full of compassion seemed to be searching Rachel’s face for her reaction to what she had seen so far. Rachel found herself reflecting on the various people that had been part of her life and thought she could see what the witches meant by trajectory now.

“Raven told me that our inner truth is in what we feel, not what we think. I find myself feeling…acceptance? I can’t say I am happy about my parents, or how other people are reacting to my disappearance. But I think I understand it. I only wish that someone would find out about what happened to me so that no one else will get hurt,” Rachel paused. “What did you mean when you said ‘the enemy?’ What is Jefferson, really?”

“Jefferson has allowed himself to become an avatar of darkness,” Doe said. “In a way, he is the willing victim of it. What we call ‘the enemy’ is a parasite that feeds off of light and life. It is an ancient and destructive force. Wherever there is immense pain and grief, a fissure is created in all beings of light that allows lifeforce to seep from them like water from a cracked gourd. The greater the pain, the greater the loss. The parasite uses acolytes of those it has wounded and fed from to go into your world and cause more horror. Jefferson is one such creature. The parasite has latched itself to his mind and become his surrogate thoughts, until Jefferson believes the imposter’s voice is his own.”

“So…how do we stop it?” Rachel asked.

Raven cackled and sat back down next to Rachel and surprisingly, gave her a hug. Her thin arms and talon like fingers felt weightless across Rachel’s shoulders. Doe just looked down at the ground with a sad expression on her face. Butterfly stared at the glowing hourglass with the spiral embossed in the top just in front of her and spoke in her resonant voice. “The parasite is ingrained in the fabric of the universe. As well ask how you stop galaxies from spinning and stars from burning. We call the parasite our enemy, but it is also a necessary evil. It creates the backdrop upon which goodness and love can be set apart. Really, it is only a parasite when it is allowed to run amok unchecked, as has happened many times in your world’s history. Then it becomes a true threat.”

“Dreamers are most at risk from the abuses of the parasite, and will suffer the most,” said Raven matter-of-factly. “And are most at risk of becoming monsters under its tutelage.”

“This is a lot to take in,” said Rachel feeling confused. “But you still haven’t answered my question. Where is Chloe in all of this?” Doe looked up worried and Raven shook her head in warning against the other two. Raven stood up and moved away from the circle, signaling she would have nothing to do with their decision. Butterfly’s lips tightened at the vacillation of her sisters. She stood and floated up into the air transforming into a vibrant blue butterfly and floated toward Rachel floating about her head.

“Enough coddling and dragging of feet,” Butterfly’s voice seemed like it was inside Rachel’s head, reverberating tightly like a swarm of bees inside a tin can. Butterfly landed on Rachel’s forehead and she could feel it moving in a spiral much faster than Doe had gone. Images and emotions flooded Rachel’s mind in a torrent, like standing under a waterfall, causing her to gasp. Her back arched and her arms stiffened behind her as her head tilted up toward the sky. Rachel’s eyes filled with light as the barrage of events swarmed through her.

∞

Chloe stood in the driveway watching her mom and step-douche drive away. Her mother, Joyce, had rushed by her with barely a hello while the step-dildo ordered her to move her truck out of the driveway so they could get his car out of the garage. Joyce had come down the stairs still slipping her pumps on with her purse dragging her arm down at the crook of her elbow, while Chloe was trying to explain that she had printed some missing person posters for the Two Whales Diner. She may as well have been telling her she was going to get knocked up and do cocaine with the principal of Blackwell at the next assembly. Joyce just said “Alright Chloe that’s fine. We’re running late. You need to move your truck out of the driveway and once we’re gone you can go back to sleep if you want.” Joyce had rushed out the door without even looking at the posters Chloe was trying to hand to her. Even her mom didn’t have time or a shit to give about her anymore. Not since her dad died and Max moved away had she felt like she needed her mom more, and never had she felt as blown off by her.

Chloe did go back up to her room and sat on the edge of her bed. She held one of Rachel’s shirts and pulled it up to her face, breathing in the faint scent of jasmine, and a fragrance that was uniquely Rachel. How long until that fragrance would fade completely? Tears welled up in her eyes, and her throat felt tight. She had the sinking feeling that when the fragrance was gone, her chances of ever finding Rachel would be gone too. Where was she? She had streamed a documentary on her computer the other day about sex-trafficking in America and had been horrified at the possibility that Rachel could have been kidnapped by some gangsters and sold into slavery somewhere. Somebody in this shithole knew something and she was not going to give up until she found her.

She reached down to the worn-out hardwood floor and pulled a half-smoked joint out of the ash tray, relighting it. She used her remote to turn on the stereo and started looking through her pictures of Rachel. She had another box with pictures of her Dad and Max, but she refused to put Rachel in that box. Dad was gone forever, and clearly Max was too. Her dad was gone because he was dead and Max had just ghosted on her for the last five years. Rachel wasn’t either of those things. She couldn’t be dead, and she wouldn’t have just left without her. It wasn’t possible because Rach was the only person Chloe really had, and she loved her. Rachel was somewhere out there, Chloe could feel it. And she needed Chloe to find her. If she was certain of nothing else, she was certain of that. Not even a Balrog or Cthulu would stop her. For some reason, the thought felt like a déjà vu.

∞

“‘Don’t miss out on the fun! Join the Vortex Club at the AMBER ALERT Party! Don’t GO MISSING the last party of the school year!’ Thursday, June 13th at the Blackwell Gym!”

Chloe stared at the poster outside the Blackwell Gymnasium with loathing and disgust. The fuckers had put the AMBER ALERT over the Vortex Club logo and added a hand-drawn blue feather along the side. Chloe’s heart hurt and a lump formed in her throat. Her blood boiled with anger and her mind reeled at the absolute fuckery it would take to come up with such a shitty and callous theme for a party! Chloe had already learned firsthand how foul these Blackwell elites were toward the scholarship kids or anyone that didn’t have trust fund parachutes strapped to their backs. But Rachel had been one of their kind, had been someone that they called a friend. Chloe never really understood why Rachel dug being around them. Rachel had never been anything but awesome to them. and now they turned her disappearance into a party! If she could see what they were doing now in her name she would probably burn the whole fucking town down! Chloe wanted to do it for her.  The plexiglass covering the bulletin board in front of her cracked as Chloe split her knuckles punching it over and over again. “You motherfuckers!” she sobbed. She didn’t stop punching until her blood was visible in the cracks in front of the poster and her hand was swollen.

∞

A few desperate weeks later, Chloe drove her old beat up truck through the parking lot outside The Mook, a local dive bar that was putting on an all-ages show behind the building. There was a full-on tailgate party going on in the lot, and Chloe could hear one of the opening bands shredding already. Multi-colored lights lit up the back of the building enclosed by a tall wooden fence. The lot was full even after she circled it twice! Chloe ended up parking down the street in an abandoned lot. There were a few other concert goers that had the same idea walking back toward the bar with her. She knew she should have gotten there earlier. Now she was going to have to carry her box of posters the whole way! Damn it! Why can’t The Mook get a bigger parking lot or something! Hoisting the box on to her slender shoulder, Chloe pulled out a cigarette and lit it with one hand, balancing the box with the other, and started walking back toward the venue. Some of the metal kids walking in pace with her looked curiously at her but no one said anything.

It took her about twenty minutes to drop posters on all the windshields in the parking lot and then she carried the box up to the gate at the side of the bar where the underage kids were lined up to get into the show. She showed her ID and let the security guards search her box before letting her wander into the venue. Some band she didn’t know was butchering The Beautiful People on the stage through speakers that distorted everything and sounded like shit. There were merch tables set up along the side of the fence selling shirts and CDs. The second table had a Pisshead banner behind it and their front man Skip Matthews was there selling his shit. Chloe walked up to the table and set her box down on the edge. Skip looked over and his face lit up when he recognized her. He was wearing a loose neon green tank top exposing his tattooed arms, and black ripped up jeans. His face was covered in sweat and his messy mop of hair was matted and sticking to his head. Even his short uneven beard was soaked.

“Chloe!” Skip said coming around the table to give her a hug. He smelled of hard alcohol and sweat, mixed with patchouli. “I’m glad you made it! Did you get to see us play?”

“Fuck I totally missed it man. I just got here! My step-douche had me tied up with another one of his lectures and then parking was hella lame!” Chloe had to yell to be heard over the band.

“Aw man that sucks! We just finished up a few minutes ago. Well I hope you are sticking around for a while. Agalloch is headlining. I’m stoked we got on the same bill with them! Do you want a shirt or a CD? It’s on me, sistah!”

“Hell yes!” Chloe said. “But I need to ask a favor!”

“You want to star in my first music video? You got it!” Skip teased.

“No I…wait…um, that would be cool…” Chloe paused. “But no. I was wondering if I could leave these posters on your merch table?” She handed him one so he could see it. Skip’s face sobered up as he looked at the Missing Person poster and he nodded.

“Fuck, Chloe I’m sorry I didn’t even know about this.” He shook his head sadly. “Seriously, what the fuck man? Its always the good ones!” He pulled the remaining posters out of the box and set them at the front of his table and put the box underneath. “Hey if there is anything else I can do promise to let me know, Ok?”

“You got it Skip!” Chloe said.

∞

Chloe was in a 24 hr copy and print shop. The harsh fluorescent light made her blue hair shine vibrantly under her dark navy beanie. She was sitting on a counter with her boots resting on the plastic chair in front of her. She was wearing ripped up jeans and small black denim jacket. She was looking through her phone at pictures of her and Rachel waiting for her print order to finish. The asswipe clerk with the pockmarked face had charged her almost double because she said she would wait. Well, fuck him. What was he going to do if not work on her order? He probably gets paid to watch porn most nights anyway. One night of actual work wouldn’t kill the bastard.

Rachel probably would have told her to just go home and pick them up in the morning. Well she wasn’t here right now, which is why Chloe was. She stared at the pictures on her phone of Rachel taken last year. Rachel was sitting at Chloe’s desk half-turned to look at the camera, at Chloe. Her chin rested on her fingers curled over the back of the chair. Her hazel eyes giving Chloe a sultry thoughtful look.

“You know if you get your GED you could go to college in LA.” Rachel had said to her. The memory echoed in Rachel’s and Chloe’s minds together. “There have to be dozens of great art schools there. And I think I know someone that would be a fantastic model for your brand.”

Chloe swiped to the next picture. A selfie of her and Rachel in the truck outside the junkyard. That was the day they had driven half way to Newport taking pictures at the beach on Rachel’s phone. Fuck, Chloe wished she had those pictures too. She had given Rachel a piggy-back ride from the beach back to the truck and they had made out with the sound of breaking waves and the occasional car passing on the highway. Chloe’s eyes got heavy as she sat looking at the pictures and reminiscing.

Rachel became aware of herself watching Chloe, which hadn’t happened in the visions she had with the others she had been shown. Before she had just been an observer without any awareness of herself or any thoughts until after the fact. Another difference she saw right away was the light around Chloe was brighter and more vivid than any of the other people she had observed, even under the fluorescent lighting. She watched Chloe dozing and catch herself before scooting down to the chair so she could rest her head on the formica counter. All around Chloe though, Rachel became aware of a darkness that pushed against the light boundary around her. It writhed and teased at the boundary, looking for a place that it could seep in and touch her. She wasn’t sure how but Rachel knew if that darkness ever touched Chloe’s skin she would be lost forever.

Chloe’s breathing was measured and deep and the light aura around her expanded and then returned to normal with every inhale and exhale. In the pause of Chloe’s exhale before she drew breath again the darkness pushed the hardest, a frenzied panicked movement of darkened spikes that tried to break the light barrier. Rachel was glad the light held it back but also felt anxiety watching the battle rage on while Chloe slept completely oblivious. Rachel felt herself moving toward Chloe trying to reach her…somehow. She found that she could look as close as she wanted, seeing Chloe’s face as close as if she were sleeping right next to her. She could see the soft curve of her lips, her closed eyelids slightly smudged by eyeliner, the only makeup she could ever get Chloe to wear consistently. Her blue hair sticking out from under her beanie resting against her temples. But when she tried to touch her face, she felt her hand touch an invisible wall.

Chloe sat up abruptly, her eyes opening. “Rach?” she said looking around quickly. But the shop was empty and quiet. Chloe was so sure she had felt Rachel there with her, like something seen out of the corner of your eye or a word on the tip of the tongue. Fuck, she was tired. It had already been a long day and she just wanted to get high and go to sleep. Fortunately, the pockmarked clerk was emerging from the back room with another box of posters for her. About damn time! She had another long day ahead of her tomorrow. She wondered if it would be weird to have Frank distribute them among his customers? Chloe still owed him a shitload of money, but dude had a heart even if he tried to hide it behind a wall of silence and growls. He knew Rachel so maybe that would make a difference? She decided she would text him in the morning as she drove home.

∞

Chloe parked next to Frank’s RV in the beach parking lot. She found Frank sitting on the other side in a fold out lawn chair under his extended awning drinking a beer. Pompidou laid curled up at his feet. As she rounded the corner she heard an old Morphine song on his stereo competing with the sound of the waves. He saw her approaching and put his hands up as if he were seeing a miracle in a Renaissance painting.

“Well look who it fucking is!” Frank exclaimed. He was wearing a simple t-shirt and filthy worn out jeans. “I was beginning to think you were avoiding me.”

“How could I avoid Frank Bowers in a town this small?” Chloe said. “Half the people I know are buying weed off you, and the other half work for you.” Chloe reached down to pet Pompidou, but the dog growled and looked for Frank’s nod before letting her. Damn, he had the beast trained well! “So, are you gonna offer me a beer or watch me die of thirst over here?”

“Don’t push your luck, Price,” Frank leaned forward and pointed at her. “The only reason my dog isn’t ripping your fucking throat out right now is because I am hoping you have a payment for me.”

“I wish I had any luck left to push, Frank. Listen I know I still owe you, and I am working on it. But I gotta ask you for a favor,” Chloe tried to keep her face from cringing cause she knew he was going to get pissed. He always did but he usually came around eventually. She just had to walk eggshells for a few minutes.

“You’re kidding me,” Frank said standing up. “You’re goddamned right you’re out of luck. I fronted you over three grand months ago which was supposed to come back with interest. I don’t owe you any favors. Shit I’ve done more favors for you than my own family. You owe me, bitch! Now get the fuck out of here and find my money.”

“Frank, you’ll get your money. But what I need to find is Rachel. She’s missing and the pigs are giving up. I know something happened to her.” Chloe pulled out a folded-up poster out of the back of her pocket and handed it to him. He took it and looked at it carefully. All his anger seemed to fade as he concentrated on it, with Rachel’s picture, and descriptions of her tattoos. Chloe was almost about to ask him if he needed help reading it when he finally folded it up and handed it back to her. He wasn’t saying anything and he was quiet. Chloe could never tell if that was a good or a bad thing with him. “The only favor is that you pass these around your other customers and friends…if you have any? Please. I think she’s in trouble, Frank! You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t hella important!”

“You’re wasting your time,” Frank’s voice cracked. “She probably got sick of your bullshit and got the fuck out of this hellhole. I know I’m sick of your shit. You need to stop coming to me with your fucking problems and trying to make them mine. I’m not your friend, Chloe! And I don’t want to see you here again unless you have a thick wad of cash in your hand. Now get the fuck out of my sight!” Frank opened up his RV door and followed his dog inside before slamming the door behind him.

Chloe stood there in muted shock for a few moments before stalking back to her truck and pulling the door shut angrily. She couldn’t believe that just happened. Frank was always a dick, but he had never been that mean to her before. After everything they had been through together? Yes, she owed him money but why would he refuse to help her find a missing friend? What was so hard about passing around pieces of paper? He knew Rachel too! Maybe not as well as he knew Chloe, but they had hung out a few times. How could he be so fucking heartless? She started up the truck and revved the engine loudly. “Fuck you, Frank!” she shouted at his RV before peeling out and driving off.

Rachel felt herself crying in anger and grief. Oh Chloe! It was Rachel’s fault that she owed Frank in the first place, and it was her fault that Frank was being an asshole to her, even if she didn’t understand why. Rachel felt the full weight of her mistakes weighing heavily upon her heart. Rachel’s tears seemed to slide down the invisible barrier between them like rain upon a window. Chloe’s feelings of betrayal and frustration as she drove home echoed Rachel’s own feelings as she watched the darkness around Chloe swarm in agitation trying to reach her.

∞

Chloe knew she didn’t belong in this room. The past several hours had been spent way outside of her comfort zone. But it was gonna be hella worth it if she could put up with it a little longer. The posh black leather couch and queen size bed crowded the space and made it even more claustrophobic than the closed blinds and oppressive artwork. Black and white bondage pictures adorned the walls and an overhead projector cast a slideshow of photographs on the wall behind her head. Chloe wasn’t about to crane her neck to stare at boring black and white photos of buildings, close ups of grass, or whatever else Nathan thought looked edgy and artistic. It was a strange turn of events that brought her to this somber room.

The summer had passed with no luck or leads until Skip Matthews had sent her a message telling her a Pisshead fan saw her poster and said he’d seen Rachel at some bar near the waterfront on the southside of town last spring, opposite the train tracks from The Mook. Said he would remember her face anywhere cause she was so hot, and clearly sharking the bastard playing pool with her. Rachel, Chloe thought, what were you getting yourself into? Chloe had gone down there with more posters to see if anyone else would recognize her and the bouncers didn’t even card her. So, she walked right in and put up a few posters near the restrooms and then made her way to the bar. She’d figured she might as well have a few drinks while she was at it since they had let her in. Plus, she could ask the bartender about Rachel.

It was after she turned away from the bar with a bottle of local brew that she had seen Nathan sitting over at a table with a bunch of Vortex Club alumni. He was totally wasted and kept pulling wads of cash out to pay for drinks and tip the cocktail waitress with the plastic smile and booty shorts. All that cash going to waste seemed like such a shame when Chloe could use it to pay off Frank or even better, get the hell out of town once she found Rachel! Luckily Chloe had gotten good at practicing improv games with Rachel and it hadn’t taken long to crash Nathan’s party and convince him to let her take him back to his dorm room at Blackwell.

So here she was, sitting on his couch listening to his crude jokes and deftly avoiding his drunken attempts to seduce her. Her ripped up jeans and black denim jacket felt like armor against the expensive and cold mood of the room. She held her beer in both hands in her lap, with her legs crossed in front of her at the ankles as Nathan showed off his expensive camera and talked about how he was going to be famous like his photography teacher one day. She eyed his coat which he had tossed on the edge of the bed. The rolled-up wad of cash stuck out of his coat pocket and she was just waiting for him to pass out. The way he was stumbling around and slurring, she thought it was only a matter of time now. She hoped so, anyway. She wasn’t sure how much longer she was going to last herself. She’d only had 2 beers at the party and was nursing the one Nathan had given her, but she was feeling woozy and a little nauseous from listening to his crap.

“NO!” Rachel cried out.  She moved closer to Chloe and tried to reach her again. She felt herself push up against the invisible wall and slammed her fists against it desperately. Chloe’s light was flickering weakly and the darkness was swarming around her pushing against it every bit as hard as Rachel was clawing at the invisible wall. Distantly she could hear the witches arguing but she couldn’t focus on what they were saying. Somehow, she had to stop this. She couldn’t let Chloe end up in the Dark Room!

Chloe slumped down off the couch, barely feeling herself fall to the floor. Nathan was slurring, but still on his feet and pacing the room. He stood over her and took a picture of her curled up on the floor. “You think I didn’t see the contempt in your face, whore? I grew up staring contempt in the face every day!” Nathan spat at her. He opened a prescription bottle and swallowed a pill with a swig of beer. “I’ll show your punk ass contempt. Do you really think I don’t know who you are, bitch? Your just another skank ho!” Nathan pulled her body over to the space next to his bed and tried a few different poses before deciding on one that he liked. He pulled one of her legs straight and bent the other one at the knee, letting it fall sideways exposing her crotch. He draped her right arm across her face, so that the crook of her elbow rested across the bridge of her nose. He got down on the floor trying to get an angle that maximized the depth of field and highlighted her helplessness.

Rachel was crying and screaming as she punched at the invisible barrier. She could see Chloe’s light was on the brink of collapse. Chloe’s light. She needed to protect her light more than anything. Her scream faded away as an idea crossed her mind. Tears still streaming down her face, Rachel saw her own light spring to life all around her. The fibers of light within the aura around her were vibrant and pulsing with some kind of power. She could still hear the witches arguing and something Raven said caught her attention. “To not touch the world of the living is what it means to die.” Fuck that, thought Rachel. She put her hand up to the barrier and focused on the strands of pulsating light all around her and pushed with her willpower against the barrier, intending that her light reach Chloe.

The barrier changed from feeling like a solid wall to something like a wall of sound. One that she couldn’t hear, but could feel, like an itch in the palm of her hand. Rachel wasn’t sure how, but she matched the vibration of the barrier, becoming the same sound, and slipped through the vibration. It felt like she was moving through water; and was herself water. She felt like she was moving with agonizing slowness as she struggled to extend her filaments of light toward Chloe with an outstretched hand. Nathan was crawling toward her grinning darkly as Rachel’s lines of light touched Chloe’s and…intertwined with them. Chloe’s eyes shot open and Rachel felt Chloe’s energy, so familiar, so warm and full of love! Chloe’s own light suddenly burst to life filling the room brightly in Rachel’s vision sending the darkness into retreat.

Chloe saw Nathan with a look of shock on his face as she scrambled to get away from him. He grabbed at her legs and reached for her jacket and she kicked at him, but kicked his nightstand instead knocking over his bedside lamp in the process. The lamp hit Nathan in the head as it fell and he stopped grabbing her to hold his head, screaming at her and calling her a fucking bitch. She felt so weak, but she was able to stand and grab at the door handle as Nathan got to his feet. But it was too late. She was out the door and running down the hall toward the dormitory exit.

(To be continued…)

Image credit: simpletextadventure/tumblr

Warning:

Spoilers for Life is Strange and Life is Strange: Before the Storm.

Trigger Warning:

This fanfic will have disturbing images, including scenes of kidnapping, date rape, drug use, violence, sexual content and adult language. Recommended for mature audiences and viewer discretion is advised.

The moment Doe put her gentle hands on Rachel’s face, her consciousness was flooded with thoughts, feelings, images, and sounds. Rachel didn’t just see. She saw and felt everything...

∞

Sera was on a nod in some shithole, Sacramento. The apartment she was staying at for a few days was rented out by a friend of her dealer. But she’d never met him. Other people had been coming and going until she wasn’t sure who actually lived there. At the moment the couch was taken by a man fucking some girl that was way too young to be there. So, Sera sat in the corner smoking a cigarette thinking about the daughter she never got to know. All that she wanted was to see her and explain. She had tried so hard. It was the hardest thing she had ever done in her life, and it was forcibly taken from her. Her eye twitched at the memory. It was too late now. She had known that when she left Arcadia Bay. Some people don’t get second chances. Now all she had was a few brief memories of the daughter she never got to know, stolen moments followed by terror where she least expected to find it. She grabbed the syringe off the carpet and found a fresh spot on her arm to inject herself. It was a mighty dose. But she could handle amounts that would kill most people. Even a year clean had not lowered her tolerance very much, as that prick that tried to OD her never got to find out. She smiled and leaned her head back as the euphoria swept her away. Her body died while she dreamed of being the kind of person that would have been there for Rachel no matter what.

∞

Rachel watched her mother’s light fade. It had been a warm light, diffused as it was. While she watched Rachel had become aware of her own light around herself. Like the aura of a bright candle in a darkened room. She held her hand up and stared at her skin in wonder. She had never seen it before, but somehow she thought she had always known it was there like a presence seen just out of the corner of her eye. Doe had just touched her forehead and began to trace a tight circle…

∞

James Amber hung his dry-cleaned suit in the walk-in closet. He changed into a polo shirt and casual slacks. He pointedly refused to look at the empty side of the closet before he turned and walked out of the room. He walked down the hallway past closed doors that he also chose to ignore and descended the stairs. His phone vibrated in his hand and he looked at the message.

I’m here.

He walked to the front door, a silhouette visible through the stained glass. He opened the door and Rose stood on the other side. She was wearing a black pantsuit with a mauve blouse and her purse hitched on her shoulder which she held with one hand tightly about the strap. James held the door open and invited her in, but she said curtly that she wasn’t staying long. He crossed his arms and waited expectantly.

“I just came by to tell you that Blackwell called and Rachel hasn’t been in school all of last week, and she hasn’t been back to her dorm,” Rose said. The corners of her mouth were drawn down and her eyes had dark circles under them. “Ray says that if she doesn’t show up by the end of next week, they are going to have to put her on Academic Dismissal pending expulsion.”

“So why are you telling me? You’re the one that she talks to now when she needs money or a parental consent form from school. I certainly haven’t seen her,” James said bitterly. “In a few months she won’t even need our consent and then I am sure you will only hear from her when she wants something.”

“And whose fault is that, James?” Rose said pointing a finger at his chest. “She may know I am not her real mother now but I still raised her. And I may have kept your secret from her, but you’re the one that did the most damage!”

“If you think I am going to stand here at my own doorstep and listen to this bullshit again…”

“I didn’t come here to argue with you,” Rose interrupted him. Tears welled up in her eyes and her voice became choked with emotion. “James. I think she is missing. No one has seen her this week. Chloe called me a few days ago and said she hasn’t seen her either. Something’s wrong.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” James threw his hands up. “She is taking after her mother more and more with each passing week. How long has she been talking about running away? You can blame me until you are blue in the face but we both know that cutting us out of her life was just the first step in her plan to leave forever. You think I am taking this any easier than you are? She is my daughter! And I know her well enough to know that when she decides she wants something it is only a matter of time before she gets it.”

“How dare you! Do you really think that you somehow know her better than I do? I’ve been her mother since she was three years old, James! Even Principal Wells thinks we should file a police report. But I can’t do it on my own. You have to come down to the station with me.”

“That is a waste of taxpayer dollars and ABPD resources! If the police find her at all I’ll bet you ten to one she is just holed up somewhere with the degenerates I tried to keep her from falling in with. Between this and the police report on Rachel being involved with drugs on campus, I will be lucky if I get to finish my term as DA, much less get reelected!”

“There it is!” Rose said. “You talk until you are ‘blue in the face’ about how much you love Rachel but when you have to choose between her and your fucking career you prove how much of a hypocrite you really are! If you won’t come with me than I will go by myself and you can go to hell!” She stomped off down the driveway toward her car she left parked at the curb.

“Rose!” James called after her. She paused with her keys in her shaking hand, sobbing. “Rose, wait. Just wait a minute. Let me get my coat.”

It would take a few months of no leads, but eventually, even Rose would acquiesce that Rachel must have simply run away.

∞

Rachel watched her father and stepmom flicker like a candle in a draft. She could see her parents from a distance here that she never managed in life. She could see how her father’s unwillingness to own up to when he was wrong was intertwined with his larger fear of failure, which only pushed him into greater denial. Rose had devoted her life to James and Rachel and now she had lost both and just felt numb. Rachel felt sorry for her but she could see that Rose never would have found her own strength in James’ shadow. But she couldn’t believe they would give up on her so easily! She felt a pang of sorrow that they lost hope in finding her, that they would assume she would run away without telling them. But the fact is, she guiltily remembered planning to do exactly that.  The Doe continued to trace the next layer of a spiral on her forehead…

∞

Victoria walked out of her dorm room and down the main hall. She paused on her way out of the exit to look at Rachel’s room. The door was open and her mom was inside packing up her belongings. Victoria was not surprised that Rachel was gone now. Rumors abounded about what happened to her, but Victoria was just glad she was gone. She never belonged at Blackwell anyway. Rachel had thought she was so superior and better than everyone. Sure, everyone else thought she was so cool with her California tan and smug self-righteousness. Victoria had seen what a talentless hack she really had been. If she had a talent for anything, it was convincing everyone around her that she was perfect. Pretty, and down to earth? Give me a fucking break. What was the point of being elite if you were going to condescend yourself to the losers just waiting to wash out at the bottom? Fitting that she washed out before anyone, just like her BFF Chloe. The fact that she chose to hang out with losers like that just goes to show she didn’t have what it took to be in the Vortex Club. She came to the parties all the time and got entrance as if she were a member and no one except Victoria ever questioned it. Finally, Victoria wouldn’t have to constantly try to live up to the image of someone that should have been pandering to her instead. Well, that’s all over now. Taylor was slated to get Rachel’s room once it was cleared out. Things were finally starting to go the way they always should have been.

∞

Rachel shook her head interrupting the sequence. Victoria was so small. Her light was just an ember that only seemed to flare up when someone gave her attention. She didn’t seem to have any real praise for herself, requiring it from others to sustain her. Even when Victoria thought of herself, there was a dimming effect on her own light. It was sad, really. Rachel had always assumed that Victoria’s bitchiness was a front to cover her own sense of low worth, but Rachel had never known how deep that wound was in her. The fact is that no matter how much Rachel had tried to be her friend, even after Victoria tried to fuck her over time and time again, it had only made Victoria hate her more. The Doe continued the spiral, as if in slow motion…

∞

“Now this is the point. You fancy me mad. Madmen know nothing. But you should have seen me. You should have seen how wisely I proceeded-with what caution-with what foresight-with what dissimulation I went to work!’” Mrs Hoida continued reading. “I was never kinder to the old man than during the whole week before I killed…” Mrs. Hoida stopped reading and looked over at Nathan. “Nathan! What in the world are you doing?” Nathan didn’t realize he was laughing until Hoida said his name. Tears were running down his face and when he saw Hoida’s look of confusion he just laughed even harder. How could she know? How could she know?! Did someone tell her? What was she going to do about it? What could she possibly do to him?

All around the class there was a murmur of voices. The sheeple were talking shit. They didn’t get it. Mrs. Hoida tried to quiet the class. She was saying something to Nathan in an urgent voice. There is only one possible way she could know. What did teachers really talk about in the lounge anyway? Motherfuckers wouldn’t even have a job if it weren’t for his family. They were probably all conspiring behind his back. They wanted to steal his money and ruin his family. This whole fucking town hates the Prescotts. They are jealous. None of them knew that they were just playthings. Their entire lives were meaningless. The Prescotts owned them.  Hoida reached for him and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t fucking touch me, bitch!” Nathan went straight from laughter into yelling without so much as a pause. “The only way you could know is if Mark told you! You can’t fucking touch me or my family, you old whore. Keep fucking with me and see how fast you end up on the streets I’ll burn your fucking house down with you in it! You think you know the truth but no one does.” Mrs. Hoida was standing with her back against the wall and her hands up in front of her face. Her eyes were filled with terror and she flinched when he backed away from her which made him laugh again. The whole class was out of their seats and staring at him with wide eyes. It was fucking hilarious. He wished he had his camera so he could take a picture of them all standing there looking like fish with their gaping mouths. For some reason his desk was toppled over on its side and his notebook was on the ground. His papers were sprawled out in a fan around it. The pattern the pages made against the floor was mesmerizing. Something in the way they fell was soothing to him.

Madsen, the idiot security guard came into the room and started barking at him to come with him to the Principal’s office. Nathan ran his hands through his hair and straightened his jacket. He thought about picking up his papers but he couldn’t remember if there was anything worth keeping from them so just left them where they were. “What the fuck ever. This class is boring anyway. Lead the way you fucking tool.” Madsen wasn’t the police no matter how hard he wanted to be. If anyone knew what happened he would be leaving this room in handcuffs, not being escorted by the dumbest rent-a-cop in all of Oregon state. Not that his father would allow the pigs to book him. Nathan smiled confidently as he walked down the corridor with Madsen as if the security guard were his personal bodyguard. He knew he couldn’t get into any real trouble anyway, no matter what anybody knows. At first, he had been terrified that he might get caught. But Mark hasn’t been caught yet. All he has to do is play it cool. He was already thinking about the next Vortex Club party and daydreaming about who he could take to the Dark Room before they even reached the Principal’s office. It was a short meeting, and all Wells did was send him back to his dorm for the rest of the day. Which worked out just fine. He had plans to make.

∞

Rachel stared at Nathan utterly expressionless. His light was sickly green with splotchy purple and yellow bruises that morphed and mutated all around him. She could see he was sick. Not just in the way people would say that back in the world. The worst parts had pulpy fibers that were turning black even as she looked at them. His disease was destroying him. Eating away whatever goodness there was in him. She didn’t feel pity, though part of her thought she should. But she was curious what, if anything, could possibly heal him. Doe continued the spiral on her forehead, but Rachel reached up and grabbed her wrist. She could see the brilliant bluish white light surrounding Doe’s body and it was full of the same fibers of light she had seen around Nathan but instead of weak and sickly they were strong and vibrant, seemingly indestructible. Doe raised an eyebrow and smiled at her. ‘Doe eyes’ indeed. Jeez, she was pretty, Rachel thought. Doe continued the spiral pulling Rachel into another reverie.

∞

Mark Jefferson watched his students scurrying out of the classroom with a mix of fascination, and longing. As much as he admired their bright-eyed youth and naivete, he was also amazed at how fucking stupid they were. But he missed that sense of optimism that even the most cynical of his students carried around with them. That fantasy of a better future, that no matter how bad things were in the moment, it would be ok later. Through most of the summer, he had despaired at the loss of Rachel. She was unlike any other model he had ever worked with. She had optimism and hope on the one hand, but also an acute awareness of harsh realities on the other. It had been an…enticing combination.

And her ability to mimic innocence. Not the dirty school-girl with the smoldering eyes kind of innocence. That crap wasn’t art, it was just porn for amateurs. No, Rachel could actually go from sexy sophisticated and wise, to naïve, hopeful, and innocent in a moments notice. The most frustrating thing about her was her insistence to always look at the camera. He hated it. Every time, he felt like she was looking through him and it was aggravating. It took a great deal of restraint to not just dose her after their first session and be done with it. But the visual possibilities with her had been too good to waste. She had such enthusiasm, so many wistful fantasies about what her life would become. Her joie de vivre was intoxicating, and not just to him but to others as well. He had seen how everyone gravitated towards her and knew that he had to make her his. In the end, it had actually been too easy. She had already been flirting with him but he knew if he didn’t slip at least a little G into her drink he would never be able to get it up. Just knowing it was there helped.

She probably thought that sleeping with him had been her idea. Jesus, seducing her had been like making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and not half as satisfying when it came down to it. Why were women so unattractive when they were throwing themselves into your lap? Taking them by sheer force had been fun back in the early days. But taking them when they were unaware, only slightly conscious, their faces passive and beautiful. That was pure ecstasy.

The only thing that really turned him on more was the successful performance of Mark Jefferson, world renowned photographer turned philanthropic teacher. Everyone was convinced that he actually gave up his rock and roll style career in order to fulfill some altruistic need to “give back” to the community. He knew what he was. He liked the idea of himself as a predator, and these halls were his hunting ground. Every day he gained a little more trust from his students, the respect of his peers, and the admiration of the community. And every day he reveled in the fact that he could walk among them unseen, beloved, a poison in their air that they would never see until they were already choking on it…

∞

Rachel scrambled back away from Doe’s outstretched hand. It wasn’t the things that Jefferson was thinking that revulsed her. She had already learned the hard way who he really was. In a way, she had seen it early on, but had been intrigued by his experience in fashion photography, and thought his façade was just layers of complexity. No, there was nothing complex about him. He was just a sociopath that got off on hurting people and calling it art. But what really got to her was the absence of light. There was no light around Jefferson at all. Every living thing she had encountered thus far had some sort of vitality or light to it. But his presence was a void of light. A darkness that sucked in the light around him. He wasn’t just dead inside, he was a destroyer of life. Whatever he was, it wasn’t human, and he was getting worse.

(to be continued) …

Warning:

Spoilers for Life is Strange and Life is Strange: Before the Storm.

Trigger Warning:

This fanfic will have disturbing images, including scenes of kidnapping, date rape, drug use, violence, sexual content and adult language. Recommended for mature audiences and viewer discretion is advised.

Rachel remembered reading about sleep paralysis but she couldn’t recall if it had ever happened to her before. She felt awake, but she didn’t feel her body at all. She thought she must be asleep, but she was trapped unmoving in the darkness of a dreamless sleep. There were sounds that she could make out nearby though. A sort of whooshing roar that alternated pitch and tempo. After a while, it became quieter and then stopped altogether. Car doors were opening and closing. Muffled voices were approaching. Near to Rachel’s head, the sound of a trunk opened.  

Something moved across her face like silk flowing continuously. It took her a moment to realize it must have been a breeze. She wished she could breathe in that air, but it just flowed across her face and was gone. She tried to sit up, but nothing happened. It wasn’t like the dark room, where she could feel some part of her body struggling to comply. There was no response at all. Rachel focused her will with every fiber of her being on trying to move her arm, or stretch her leg, but not even so much as a finger twitched in response. She fought down the temptation to panic and focused instead on trying to open her eyes, but she couldn’t even feel them, much less tell if they were moving under her eyelids or not. She felt awake, but maybe her body wasn’t. She focused on trying to wake her body up, to even feel it at all. The only thing that stood between her and fear was her determination to keep trying.

“Hurry up,” said a man’s voice harshly. Shuffling feet on the ground was followed by a sharp inhalation of breath. More movement, then coughing and retching as someone violently vomited. “Oh Christ. You are pathetic, you know that?” Rachel knew that voice. It was Mark Jefferson. Her photography teacher, one-time seducer, and eternal tormentor. She would never call him ‘Mark’ again, even if it was only in her head. Motherfucker.

“I can’t do this!” It was Nathan’s voice. “Goddamn, it fucking stinks. I can’t breathe. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!” He disseminated into alternating cries of “I can’t do this” and “fuck” as he paced around.

“You wanted to be my protégé didn’t you?” Jefferson sneered. “What did you think, that everything would be sterilized and monochrome dreams like your beautiful photographs? This is what death looks like Nathan. Look at her! It takes work to make this beautiful!” Quick shuffling of feet and a thud as the voices got closer.

“Stop!” Nathan cried, his voice very near.

“You want to be an artist you’ve got to be willing to get your hands dirty Nathan! There put your face in it and take a big whiff. This is part of the process! Art requires sacrifices. And remember, we wouldn’t be here…yet…if you hadn’t fucked up.”

“Please don’t make me do this…”

“Quit stalling! We’re wasting time here. I still have one more surprise for you. One last shot of you and your beloved together. But if you keep stalling she’ll be too stiff to pose.”

“Can I frame it myself?” Nathan asked.

“Shh. Shh. Shh. Enough! Now be a good boy and pick her up. Just think of it as your wedding night and you are carrying your bride to bed.” Jefferson chuckled.

∞

Rachel stood on the edge of the junkyard watching Nathan and Jefferson make their way through the junk cars, old appliances and useless household trash. Nathan was laden with a heavy burden that he was trying to balance on his shoulder. But it was too heavy for his small frame and he stumbled and dropped it several times. Rachel found herself flinching involuntarily as she watched. As they got closer she could see that his burden was almost as long as Nathan was tall, but her eyes kept sliding around the object. Every time she looked at it all she saw was a blur that made her eyes water.

“Why do you hide the truth from yourself?” said the Doe. She looked around to see her companion was still there. She could hear Jefferson berating and mocking Nathan as they came around the tail end of the wreckage of the old school bus. Rachel closed her eyes and took a deep breath and forced herself to see her own body being hoisted clumsily and dropped on the ground in the corner of the junkyard underneath the old dilapidated hotel sign.

“See, Nathan,” Jefferson said. “A little hard work builds character!” He tossed a small shovel he had been carrying and pointed to the ground next to Rachel’s discarded body. “Right here will do.”

Rachel looked at her body while Nathan was digging and Jefferson was fiddling around with a camera he had pulled out of his bag. Her usually dark red hair was badly in need of washing and looked almost strawberry blonde. It was more ragged than she ever let it get when she could take care of it properly. She was still wearing her black t-shirt and denim jeans she remembered putting on a century ago. Had they always been that loose on her or had she lost weight? Her dragon tattoo on her leg looked vibrant against her pasty skin. She didn’t move toward the body. But one moment she was on the raised tree line above where her body was to be buried and the next she was kneeling before it.

Her skin which had once been tan enough to stand out in the central Oregon coast, looked ghastly white and almost translucent. Her eyeliner was smudged into dark circles around her eyes which no one had bothered to wipe off. Thin remnants of her “Autumn Cherry” lipstick still showed in the cracks of her severely chapped lips. A viscous white foam had seeped from between her lips and dried. Her arms were draped unceremoniously in front of her body, her star tattoo on her wrist facing up. Her fingernails were dirty under flaked off polish.

This was the closest Rachel had ever been to a dead body. And it was her body. It was her body. “This…this…” Rachel felt her spirit oscillating back and forth toward her body like when someone bounces a ball close to the ground. “This was my body. I didn’t know,” she said absently. “I am sorry.” She realized she was stroking her body’s hair and caressing her cheek.  “I am so sorry…” her voice cracked as tears streamed down her face. One of her tears dropped and landed on her body’s collar bone settling into the hollow of her windpipe.

Suddenly her body exhaled heavily and shuddered, and Rachel felt herself inexplicably calm. Jefferson startled with a quick turn of his head but Nathan about jumped out of his skin dropping the shovel and yelping as he fell backward and scrambled away from it. Jefferson laughed and told Nathan it was normal, that it sometimes happens. Rachel found herself standing by the front of the bus watching as Nathan pulled her body into the shallow grave he had dug for her. Jefferson had set up a tripod and camera and allowed Nathan to compose the shot of her laying in the ground.

But she was surprised when Jefferson pulled out a small handheld case behind Nathan’s back and approached him from behind with a syringe. Nathan was so preoccupied with the camera he never saw it coming. Rachel’s eye twitched at a memory she wasn’t willing to allow to surface just yet. Nathan stumbled and Jefferson pulled him back so that he wouldn’t fall on the equipment and lowered him to the ground.

“I promised you a memento, didn’t I.” Jefferson said quietly without a hint of amusement in his voice. “Don’t worry. I’ll frame it exactly as befits your talents.”

Nathan wasn’t completely unconscious. His eyes rolled wildly as Jefferson picked him up and dragged him over to Rachel’s grave. He positioned Nathan awkwardly across the hole in the ground and laid Rachel so that the back of her head was resting on his lower abdomen, and her arm draped along his leg. Jefferson chuckled to himself at the awkward posing. They looked like two stiff barbie dolls some child had discarded on the ground. Jefferson took a few different shots, working silently. Finally, he packed up the camera gear and took it back to the car. He returned for Nathan, easily hoisting him onto his shoulder and carrying him away. On his return trip he brought a blue tarp and wrapped Rachel’s body tightly with practiced precise movements and dropped her back into the hole. He stared at the open grave expressionless for a few long silent moments, and then used the shovel to fill in the hole and pack the ground with clods of grass he had pulled off the hill. He whistled a tune to himself as he walked back to the car with the shovel. The last light of dusk seemed to dissipate as the retreating car drove away, leaving the junkyard dark and silent.

∞

Rachel was in the corner of the Dark Room with her hands and feet bound in duct tape. She thrashed wildly as the raven flew at her face and tangled its talons in her hair. She screamed as it dipped its beak into the spot on her neck where a needle had been stuck into her, over and over again.

Be still, girl.

Rachel’s eyes went wide with shock. In spite of the pain, she felt a poisonous miasma that had been subduing her mind and dulling her spirit lifting away from her. She knew this wasn’t her body, but the raven was ripping from her neck the taint of the GHB from her consciousness. It was as if the chemical and physical restraints she had spent the last hours of her life in had been dampening her vitality and power. The raven ripped a sinewy blood laden piece of flesh away from Rachel and she screamed again in spite of herself as the room began to spin wildly all around her. The black shadows swirled until they mixed with the overly bright white surfaces of the room and spun faster and faster. The floor seemed to drop out from beneath her. The raven was flying in the opposite direction of the swirling room and Rachel seemed to be caught in its wake, floating in the middle of the maelstrom. The duct tape tore and Rachel stretched her aching arms and legs feeling vitality radiating from her outstretched fingers above her head down to her toes that pointed toward the ground.

I’ve done what I can, the raven said in Rachel’s mind.

∞

Rachel’s eyes wouldn’t focus right. Whatever she looked at directly was clear, but everything in her peripheral vision was blurry, making her feel nauseous. Up ahead there was a golden light in the darkness. She could make out the shadows of trees around her as she got closer, and the rough shapes of ferns. The air smelled strongly of pine and the mustiness of moss. As she neared what she thought must be a campfire, she began to make out the silhouettes of three women seated in a circle around it.

One was old, with black messy hair tumbling down her shoulders and partly obscuring her face. Her sharp large nose protruded from the hair covering her cheeks, and the light reflected in her eyes like two yellow stars. She wore a cloak of bird feathers that glistened silvery one moment, and black as pitch the next. The second woman was neither old nor young, but in her prime. Her soft leather dress was embroidered with strange glyphs around the hem, cuffs, and collar. They seemed familiar to Rachel but she couldn’t remember where she would have seen them. Her hair was a rich brown color, like fertile earth. Her smooth sun-tanned face and full lips radiated gentleness which was confirmed in eyes that were completely black, ringed in dark brown under large lashes.

But when she saw the third woman, Rachel’s heart caught in her throat. Her pale skin and short bright blue hair almost made her cry out Chloe’s name. But then she noticed even sitting this woman was shorter than Chloe. She might have even been shorter than Rachel. Also, her hair was a ‘pixie cut,’ more precise and close cropped than Chloe’s ‘A cut.’ Plus, the blue of her hair was bright, like a neon, and as Rachel walked around their circle she could see that her eyes were as blue as her hair and had no pupils or irises.

Finally, she was able to shift her gaze away from the strange women and see the source of the light. She had expected to see a fire, but instead she saw a large hourglass filled with sand glowing with a warm golden light. Upon the top of the hourglass was embossed a spiral that seemed to be spinning whenever she wasn’t looking directly at it. The three of them were looking at each other in turns as if involved in a conversation that Rachel couldn’t hear. For some reason, Rachel had the impression that there was a great deal of hesitation or trepidation between them over the object in front of them. The older dark-haired woman suddenly turned her head away from the others and looked right at Rachel standing beside a tree.

“Why are you here? We did not summon you to this place. You have no business here skulking about like a raccoon!” Her voice was thin and coarse. The woman’s eyes glittered like harsh yellow sapphires behind her dark hair that covered her face like a veil.

Rachel walked out into the light toward them. So much of what was happening to her didn’t make sense. Her mind had been so clouded and lost in strange dreams and memories all mixed up together that she wasn’t sure what was real anymore. “Who…who are you?” She addressed all of them. She felt like she knew already, but she also felt like she was losing her mind.

The dark-haired woman cackled. “Dense as the stones of the earth and with half the sense. You have no right to be here. Leave!” The space between her and the women seemed to stretch in front of her. The shadows of the trees began twisting and morphing into a spiral. Rachel felt as if she were falling forward even as she was pulled away from them. She felt herself thinning, being erased, washed out of existence. In a flash of panic and determination she forced herself to remain whole, imagining herself as solid and unmoving. The swirling reality around her reversed direction and the trees and the shadows resumed their proper places. The sickening sensation that she had felt moments before when everything was twisting was gone. and she was standing back before the three women, feeling only slightly nauseous.

The black-haired woman turned to look at her again sharply, her pinpoint yellow eyes burning in her stoic face. The brown-haired woman laughed in a rich beautiful voice, putting a hand on the old woman’s forearm. Rachel wasn’t sure if it was meant to be a calming gesture or not, but she found herself hoping it was. “Clearly the child is here. So, her right to be here is without question. You may come closer, Rachel.” The way the woman said her name filled Rachel with peace and confidence. She suddenly felt like she had known these women all her life and was back among dear friends.

“I still want to know why the brat comes without being summoned,” the old woman said irritably.

“I summoned her.” The youngest finally spoke in a quiet voice that seemed to come from all around them at once, her voice resonating tightly like a chorus in a tin can, making Rachel want to wiggle a pinkie finger in her ear.

“Fool,” said the old woman. “I know this one’s heart and she is volatile. It is dangerous for her to be here.”

“Things can’t stay as they are. We have been quiet for too long. If we do not take action soon, then far worse will surely come,” the younger one said quietly.

Never in Rachel’s life had she remembered feeling this sense of comfortable belonging while completely confused at the same time. She knew she was at a total loss for words. Yet she abandoned the struggle when she realized it was perfectly ok not to say anything. The brown-haired woman smiled knowingly at her and gestured for her to sit beside her. Rachel sat down, crossing her legs under her. She didn’t mind being barefoot, but her wrists and ankles seemed naked for some reason. She thought she must look ridiculous next to them in her jean shorts and black t-shirt. She pointed to the women in turn calling them by name. “You’re the Raven that has haunted me so often. And you, you are the Doe that gave me a moment of peace. And you, Butterfly, I still don’t understand what you are, but you always remind me of Chloe.”

“You name us true, child,” said Raven. “We are the remaining sisters of a dying family. I am sorcery. My sister Doe is a matron of kindness. And finally, our sister Butterfly is maiden of transformation.”

“We are of this land and bound to it as you are also bound to it,” said Doe. “But unlike you we are bound by duty, not tragedy. This land is sacred to us. We are watchers, guides, and guardians. But our power is fading in this place as the world marches on without us. For all the change the sleepwalkers have wrought in the shallow world of day, the power of the ancient ones has grown stagnant.”

“Like all living things, transformation is vital to survival,” said Butterfly. “We have changed many times over the course of the ages through the imagination of Dreamers of immense Power. But there are few left in this place that can withstand the burden of such power, and so we are dying.”

“I don’t really get what any of this means. But I feel like I know all of you,” Rachel said. “Its like you’ve been with me my whole life just out of the corner of my eye. When I look at you, it reminds me of how I used to feel when I would stare out at the stars.”

“We are always around potential Dreamers but most are still sleepwalking, blinded by what is in front of them,” said Butterfly.

“Chloe said she doesn’t remember her dreams anymore. Is that what you guys are talking about.”

“Chloe Price was one whose grief was too strong. It has clouded her mind,” said Doe sadly.

“Never mind that one for now,” said Raven sharply. “It is your own predicament that should concern you. Your attention is trapped here by the unrest of your body. Until it has fully decayed, you will remain here reliving the moments that left the most significant imprint on your soul. It would be easier for you if you weren’t so arrogant.”

Rachel stood up to face the old woman that looked up at her through her black hair. “Oh fuck off! You’re calling me arrogant? You’ve been hella fucking arrogant since I first saw you, looking at me like I am nothing and mocking me in my pain!” Raven had the decency to look down. Wait…was she suppressing a grin? Rachel addressed all of them. “I may have made a lot of shitty choices but do I really have to be punished with them for all eternity? What is this, some kind of purgatory?”

Butterfly stood up and moved toward Rachel on light and graceful feet. She really was shorter than Rachel by almost half a head. The teal-blue color that completely filled her eyes was beautiful but also unnerving. Rachel noticed for the first time that Butterfly was wearing a simple blue dress of crinkled cotton with small white flowers on it that came down to mid-thigh with black leggings and bare feet. It was surprisingly normal compared to what the others were wearing. Rachel thought distractedly the whole outfit was something she would have worn going to a party in the summer.

“This is neither punishment, nor hell,” Butterfly said in her strange resonant voice. “This is gravity. Inertia. Momentum. Much of what happens to us is merely the logical result of our actions. Or inaction,” she finished with a pointed look at the other two.

“You said I am bound here by tragedy. Are you also saying that what happened to me was my fault? Did I bring this on myself?” Rachel gazed at the ground trying to remember, out of all her mistakes, which was the one that brought her here.

Doe stood up and walked over to her, stroking her hair back out of her face and laying a warm hand on her brow. “No one deserves what happened to you no matter what they may have done. You have been too hard on yourself as it is without taking the blame for that as well. You were young, and though wise in your years, still had much to learn about life.” She moved her hand down the side of Rachel’s face and gently lifted her chin to look her in the eyes. “What we mean is that events flow like water through time, and once that water is flowing in a particular direction, it will continue to do so unless something redirects it. There is no blame in it. Just cause and effect.”

Doe’s words were soothing and mesmerizing, but Rachel still felt troubled. The other women resumed their places around the hourglass and she had the impression they were silently communing again. She turned away from them and stared off into the forest. Her shadow stretched into the darkness in front of her and she stared at it bitterly. Once events are set in motion…

“Where is Chloe now?” Rachel asked turning back to them. “Is she ok?”

The three looked at each other confused as they often did when she asked questions. “Which now?” asked Doe finally. “Time works differently in this place then the world that you once walked.”

“Show her,” said Butterfly. “Show her all of it.”

“That’s madness!” said Raven. “You can’t be serious…”

“No,” Doe said thoughtfully. “It would be needlessly cruel.”

“She deserves to see the truth!” said Butterfly stubbornly. “And not just about her Lothir.”  Butterfly looked over at Doe. “Haven’t you always said that a lie is more cruel than a carefully worded truth?” Rachel was getting more and more anxious with every word, balling her hands into fists and tensing her shoulders and legs.

Raven stared at all of them expressionless, her beady yellow eyes glittering menacingly behind her hair. Doe finally sighed and agreed. She pointed to the ground next to her and asked Rachel to sit again. With Rachel sitting beside her she reached up and touched her forehead and began drawing a spiral out from the center of that first touch. Rachel didn’t just see. She saw and felt everything. At first, she heard herself gasp in shock, but before long she began to scream in anger, frustration, and grief.

∞

(to be continued...)

Warning:

Spoilers for Life is Strange and Life is Strange: Before the Storm.

Trigger Warning:

This fanfic will have disturbing images, including scenes of kidnapping, date rape, drug use, violence, sexual content and adult language. Recommended for mature audiences and viewer discretion is advised.

∞

“Nice Chloe we’re having,” Rachel murmured, her head resting on Chloe’s chest.

Chloe groaned. “Oh god, I’m never gonna live that down, am I?”

“Nope. It was the moment I knew I would fall in love with you.” She snuggled in closer to Chloe. “It makes me smile every time I think of it, so you’re just going to have to bear my reminiscing.” Chloe was quiet long enough that Rachel lifted her head from Chloe’s chest to look at her. Their eyes locked and moments later, so did their lips.

“I love you, lion-crab” Chloe whispered as they dozed off to sleep.

∞

“Heeey…where is my lioness?” Frank asked. Something…wasn’t right. Rachel watched herself walk through a wooden door. She entered a room that looked like the set from when she played Nora in Ibsen’s A Doll’s House, but it was all wrong. A gray couch with a glass top coffee table sat in the middle of the room. The raven perched on the edge of the coffee table preoccupied with grooming its feathers. A window with a view of a brick wall was covered over with plastic strips like the ones used in industrial refrigerators or walk-in freezers instead of curtains. On one wall was a painting of a cartoonish girl with pigtails ripping open her own throat, viscera and entrails spilling out. Another wall had a picture of Frank’s dog, Pompidou. But every time she saw it out of the corner of her eye, it looked like the dog was in the process of decaying, like in a time-lapse film. Frank was wearing a suit one size too big, with the tie loosened, and drinking bourbon from a green triangle shaped glass. His hair was disheveled, but that was the only thing that seemed right about him.

“I’m right here, my love!” Rachel found herself saying. What the fuck? That wasn’t what she was going to say at all. “What do you need, my dear?” Frank reached out and hugged her around her waist, touching her nose with a light tap of his finger.

“You mean other than you?” he asked. “You are the light of my life!”

“Oh, Frankie B!” Rachel felt herself blushing. She looked over at the fourth wall, where the audience of the play should have been. But instead there was just a blurry gray wall. Movement in the wall looked like swirling and eddying smoke behind glass. Frank moved her over to the couch and sat her down. Then he kneeled in front of her with his hands in hers.

“There is one thing though, that you could help me with.” Frank said hesitantly. “But no, I couldn’t ask it of you…”

“Oh, do tell me what it is! I want to help. I just know I could do it for you!” Rachel wanted to vomit.

“Well, I wanted it to be a surprise. I know how you like surprises.” He winked at her. “But I’ve been setting aside a little nest egg for years now and I am really close to finally buying a house. I’ve got a great property already picked out at Pan Estates.” Rachel looked at him dumbfounded.

“That’s wonderful! We can stay in Arcadia Bay forever!” Rachel’s stomach heaved. “But what can I do?”

“Well I’m closer now than ever, and business is booming! I’m moving a new product that brings in a lot more money. But I need more distributors.” He hesitated. “It wouldn’t take much effort, and you already know the buyers. All you have to do is take it with you to Blackwell and give it to them.”

“You would trust me to do that for you?” Rachel asked. Please make this stop. “I thought it was going to be something complicated. You know how confused I sometimes get. But of course, I will!”

Frank smiled but was interrupted by a buzzing sound.

“Who could that be at this hour?” Rachel started.

“Just a work acquaintance.” Frank said. “Now, mind you don’t say anything out of place. And don’t be surprised. He is a friend of yours, I think, but don’t tell him that you are going to work for me, also. He’s terribly insecure about his position in my company. You do know how to be discreet don’t you, my lioness?” He walked over to the door and opened it to let Nathan in. He was wearing his red jacket and a button up shirt half undone. For some reason he had Kelly with him. She looked half unconscious with an arm draped across his shoulders and held up by his other arm around her waist.

“You gotta help me quick, Frank!” Nathan was saying. “She’s about to wake up!”

“Calm yourself!” Frank said. “Just set her on the couch there. I’ll get you a fresh vial right now.” He walked through a door on the opposite side from where she and Nathan had come in.

“Is she going to be alright?” Rachel wanted to fucking scream. “She really doesn’t look well.”

“Oh, she’ll be alright.” Nathan sneered. “She’s going on a trip to Baltimore to see her family. But she needs to stay well rested so that her pictures come out ok. Can’t have her fucking up the shots!” Frank returned from the other room with a small glass vial and a syringe.

“Here.” Frank said. “You know I don’t do this part.” Nathan grabbed the vial and needle and deftly filled the syringe. He brushed back Kelly’s hair and put the needle to the side of her neck and squeezed the plunger. Kelly’s eyes opened and she looked right at Rachel. Her eyes were flat and lifeless, and a maggot crawled out of her tear duct and into her nostril.

“Thanks Frank.” Nathan said picking up Kelly again. “You’re a life saver.” He walked over to the door and leaned Kelly against the wall so he could open the door and shove her through it. When they were gone, Frank sat down on the couch and sighed heavily.

“You see. Business is so busy I am taking house calls.” Frank shook his head. “With Blackwell covered by you and Nathan, and Arcadia High School covered by Chloe…well anyway, I’ll be able to buy the house near the end of the year!”

Rachel suddenly felt like the floor dropped out from beneath her feet. She knew yet another mindless vapid response was on the tip of her tongue but she forced it away violently. “Wait a minute…What did you just say?”

“I said I could buy the house by the end of the year.”

“No. What did you say about Chloe?” Her voice was anything but sweet, and she knew it, and she didn’t care.

“Oh. Now don’t you worry your pretty head over any of that. I didn’t mean to say anything about it. You just help me get where I wanna be and I’ll help you. You want to be a model, right? Here, let me take your picture. Wouldn’t you love to dance for me again?”

“No. Actually. I fucking wouldn’t. Now explain what you said about Chloe. Now.”

“Who do you think you are talking to like this.” Frank said getting up angrily. “After all the petting and spoiling I’ve done for you. You gotta lot of nerve!”

“Chloe.” Rachel said matter-of-fact. “Is she peddling for you, too?”

“You know, I would have thought you’d learned your lesson a long time ago about asking me about my business. Let’s just relax here a minute, alright. Why are you being so cold suddenly? I really don’t understand where you’re coming from.”

“Yeah, no shit Frank!” Rachel said. “You’ve never understood me. You are no better than my father. You’re both more than happy with me so long as I play the role you imagine me to be, never really bothering to learn who the fuck I really am. ‘I have been performing tricks for you, Frank. That’s how I’ve survived. You wanted it like that. It’s because of you I’ve made nothing of my life.’”

“How in the fuck can you say that? I took a blood oath for you. You ungrateful bitch!” Frank grabbed her by the arm and shoved her toward the room he had gone into earlier to get Nathan’s drugs. The door opened up into his RV bedroom. The bed was disheveled and the room was cramped and cluttered. Frank was back in his normal street clothes. He had a knife in his hand and held it up against the side of her throat.

“Go ahead.” Rachel dared him. She exposed more of her neck and glared at him. “Cut my throat. But tell me the truth! Is Chloe slinging drugs for you?” Frank held the knife with white knuckles, seeming to struggle with himself. Pompidou growled and whined from the corner of the room in the silence that stretched out as they glared at each other. Finally, he lowered the knife and seemed to deflate.

“Fine. Whatever. You wanna know the truth. Chloe needed money to fix up that piece of shit truck of hers. So, she’s selling pot and molly at Arcadia High. Big fucking deal. But she came to me. I didn’t ask her, she asked me.” Frank tossed the knife on a small side table. “But let me tell you something. If you think I wanted you to be something other than real with me all this time than you didn’t know me either. I would never want anything for you that you wouldn’t want for yourself.”

“Really?” Rachel asked incredulously. He had loved her spirit and feistiness so long as it wasn’t directed at him. But every time she had so much as said a word he didn’t like, he came down on her like an avalanche. This was never going to work. Plus, he had hated how she prioritized Chloe over him, and took it out on both of them. He had even used the threat of telling Chloe and about him and Rachel in order to manipulate her. The only reason he hadn’t ever done it was because he knew it would end their fling.

Wait, Chloe was selling for Frank, to make money to fix her truck, so she could take Rachel to Los Angeles? Rachel had gone to Frank for the same reason behind Chloe’s back, because she didn’t want Chloe to have to do what they both ended up doing anyway! Only it had backfired when Rachel realized she was momentarily infatuated with him. She had lied to Chloe about everything, at first because she wanted to surprise her with the money, and then again when things went too far with Frank. She’d kept it all hidden, even when it was over. The irony was bitter.

“Didn’t I say I wouldn’t look back? Tell me this, Frank. Where am I right now?”

“I wish I knew. Fuck. I really wish I knew.”

“That makes the two of us”

∞

Rachel was sitting in the junkyard hideout she and Chloe had decorated. Even in the pitch black of night, she felt safe here. They had spent so much time in this place. It really was a home away from home. Now that she had a dorm room at Blackwell instead of living with her piece of shit dad, it seemed more like home than anywhere else really. The candles on the makeshift table in the center of the small brick building were flickering wildly sending shadows dancing along the walls and making it hard for her to write. She didn’t really want to write the letter anyway, but she had been putting it off for too long, and she needed to come clean and take whatever consequences came with it. What would Chloe say when she read it? God. Are you seriously writing this on graph paper? You don’t even have the decency to rip someone’s heart out on finer stationary?

A flicker of blue light out of the corner of her eye startled her as a butterfly fluttered into the room through the open doorway. Shimmering and bright with a light of its own, it was beautiful! But what was it doing roaming around in the dark? It moved around the perimeter of the shack’s brick walls and then danced around Rachel’s head before landing on the letter she was writing.

“What sort of magic has brought you to me?” Rachel laughed. “I’ve always felt like anything was possible this time of night. Maybe you are the reason why…” The butterfly slowly flapped its wings in response.  

Remember me, always.

The voice in her head felt strange, yet familiar. Like the raven, but quieter and buzzing like a bee. Ash began to fall from the sky through the gaping hole in the roof. Rachel felt a stirring from deep within herself. A memory of another magical night walking with Chloe after performing in the Tempest. Back when everything seemed so much simpler. Back when she still felt more like herself. A time when she hadn’t yet made terrible mistakes, and all the world was set out before her with infinite possibilities.

“How can I ever get back to that place again?” she asked. The Butterfly fluttered up into the air and wrapped its wings around itself. Silver threads seemed to weave themselves into a circle around the butterfly until it was completely covered in a cocoon hovering in the middle of the room. The cocoon became more condensed and smaller until it was finally as small as a mote of dust and then was gone. The ashes stopped falling. Rachel stared at the space where it had disappeared, more confused than ever.

She looked back to the letter she was writing. Rereading it to pick up where she left off, the whole thing felt utterly wrong. The words and tone didn’t even feel like her own. Her confession sounded trivial and callous. What’s worse, the last few lines revealed she had no intention of even giving Chloe the letter. She was obviously just writing it for herself, just like everything else she had ever done. She’d written “I don’t want you to hate me.” All about Rachel. Her description of her newest lover sounded idiotic now that she read them back.

Hindsight is a bitch, eh?

The raven was looking down at her from its perch on the edge of the gaping hole in the ceiling.

Rachel looked up at it and shook her head in dismay. “Why can’t I ever just tell the fucking truth?”

You can’t tell a truth if you don’t already know what it is.

The ever-present invisible knife in Rachel’s heart twisted again. “I don’t know what to do! Can’t you help me?” she asked with tears in her eyes.

Truth isn’t in what you think. It is in what you feel.

The words hit Rachel like a bucket of icy water. How long had she wandered in a stupor mistaking her thoughts of how things ought to be, or how she wished they were, confusing those thoughts for feelings. She had talked herself into feelings that weren’t even true time and time again. Even her desire to leave Arcadia Bay was based on the thought that she didn’t want to be there, long before her family ever left Long Beach. She never really gave it a chance, even after meeting Chloe. Hell, she focused on their shared desire to leave instead of on what really connected them. A strange and inexplicable connection she had never known before or since. Real, actual love.

“Who pays any attention to the syntax of things will never wholly kiss you; wholly, to be a fool.” Rachel quoted, tears streaming down her face. The raven leapt up into the air and flew away. The sound of a car engine approaching snapped Rachel out of her reverie. The engine shut off and rusted squeaky hinges of a car door opening and slamming shut were followed by boots on gravel approaching. Rachel grabbed the letter and crumpled it into a ball, tossing it into a corner trash basket. She turned toward the door just as Chloe appeared in it.

Chloe was wearing a black denim jacket over a white tank top with a buffalo skull on it. Her necklace of 3 bullets hung heavily on her chest. Her short blue-dyed hair was tucked up under a beanie and her ripped up jeans were tucked into dark cowboy boots. She looked at Rachel in a mixture of surprise and delight. The candlelight was flickering orange on her face, lighting up her gorgeous eyes.

“What the hell, Rach? Did you stub your toe or something?” Chloe broke out in a grin. Rachel laughed through her tears and leapt at Chloe wrapping her arms around her neck and her legs around her waist. The only thing that saved them from tumbling to the ground was the door jamb that banged into Rachel’s shins painfully. But she couldn’t care less. Rachel let her legs slide back to the floor as they kissed, holding Chloe’s head in her hands as if it were the most precious thing that ever existed.

Sometime later, they were sitting on top of the cabin of an old dilapidated fishing boat in the junkyard looking up at the stars. They were sharing a blanket Chloe had brought out from the cab of her truck and smoking a cigarette. Rachel was reveling in the feel of her hip pressed up against Chloe’s under the blanket, and her head resting on her shoulder.

“Chloe,” she said. Chloe looked down at her and met her eyes. “I am sorry I haven’t been around much lately. I-I just want you to know…”

“I do know, jerk.” Chloe smirked at her.

“No. Seriously. I need to say it.” Rachel sat up straight and looked into Chloe’s eyes getting lost in their soulful depth. Chloe seemed to be feeling the same way because she stared right back in wonder and smiled. “I love you, Chloe Price. Never forget that.”

“I love you, too,” Chloe replied simply. “I miss you. I wish I could just stay here with you forever. The shitty thing is I can’t really remember my dreams anymore. Its been over a year. I don’t remember nightmares anymore either but…”

“I need you to find me. Do you think you can remember that?”

“I will find you Rachel. Not even a fucking Balrog and Cthulhu combined could stop me!”

“What about a ‘motherfucking dragon on a leash’?” Rachel laughed. Before Chloe could reply a light upon the horizon suddenly rose like the sun in fast forward bleaching out the night and the junkyard with it. Rachel heard Chloe’s voice echoing “I’ll find you” before the bright light was replaced by darkness.

∞

Crickets are chirping in the darkness. Giant evergreens are swaying in the breeze above her against stars diffused by mist that dampened other sounds. Off to her left, Rachel can make out the jumbled mess of the junkyard. Rachel walked among the trees, a shadow among shadows. A stray dog walking along the perimeter of the junkyard stopped to sniff the air. Rachel knelt down to call him over but the dog raised its hackles and growled before whimpering at her and running away in fright. Why am I in this place, she wondered. As if in answer a bright golden light on the horizon cast the shadows of the trees toward her. She watched in wonder as the light grew brighter and came closer, until it formed into a doe that bounded over the bushes growing on the other side of a small clearing. It approached her slowly and bowed its head toward her just out of reach.

Rachel sat down in front of the creature that cast an eerie glow all around them. The doe folded its legs underneath it and rested her head in Rachel’s lap. Day dawned suddenly upon them, the grass was soft and fragrant flowers bloomed all around them. Rachel laid her hand on the doe’s head and it looked up at her gently. Are you going to tell me who you are, or like the raven, just going to remain a mystery to me? The doe looked around the clearing and then stared back at her, as if the answer were obvious. Rachel felt content, and at ease with the doe. She thought back to the weeks prior and saw herself from an outsider’s point of view. It was distant. She saw her actions as the flailing and fumbling clumsiness of a child still learning to walk. Such a silly thing she was, full of her own self-importance and blind to the dangers she stumbled into with the pompous confidence of a drunk walking a tightrope. She didn’t feel judgment or reproach, just sober evaluation. The sun moved across the sky like a drop of honey slipping toward the horizon. The flowers retreated with the light, and in the gloomy dusk, a car approached and parked outside the gate of the junkyard.

She knew that car. It was Mark Jefferson. And he wasn’t alone.

(to be continued…)

Thank you for reading! Link to Episode 5 in the comments

Warning:

Spoilers for Life is Strange and Life is Strange: Before the Storm.

Trigger Warning:

This fanfic will have disturbing images, including scenes of kidnapping, date rape, drug use, violence, sexual content and adult language. Recommended for mature audiences and viewer discretion is advised.

The fire was finally starting to burn steady in the fire pit, casting a flickering orange glow and providing warmth against the biting chill. A light mist was rising up from the ocean, lapping up against the base of the lighthouse, and swirling around the chatting teens seated on the ground around the fire. Rachel watched as embers floated up with the smoke and burned out a few feet above them. It was mesmerizing to watch them float away and disappear like magic. Zachary nudged Rachel’s shoulder, passing her the joint that was making its way around the group. She accepted the joint, took her turn and passed it to Taylor on her other side.

“You’re the only one of us that can ever get the fire going perfectly!” Taylor complimented Rachel as she took the weed from her. Rachel briefly coughed on the smoke in her lungs and blew it out. She murmured some response about camping and took a swig of her beer. But she couldn’t suppress a grin that didn’t seem to want to go away. Victoria, Nathan, and Kelly rounded out the other side of the fire circle.

Kelly was a short and petite girl that looked a lot younger than her actual age, which Rachel wasn’t entirely sure of to begin with now that she thought about it. She was a junior at Blackwell, which put her around the same age as the rest of them, but she looked like a child next to Victoria with her short hair and extravagant wardrobe, and Nathan who looked like he had already inherited his father’s business casual sens de la mode.  

“Holy shit Nathan!” Kelly said. “It’s only been fifteen minutes but I’m already feeling the acid coming on. ‘O true apothecary! Thy drugs are quick!’” Kelly winked at Rachel and she gave her an approving nod of the head.

“I always get the best shit,” Nathan said as if daring anyone to contradict him. “It’s a good thing I’m rich and I like you fuckers cause you’re all costing me a fortune.”

“Oh, Nathan you know we love you, right?” Victoria crooned. Zachary laughed and slapped Nathan on the back with a big meaty hand which made Nathan scowl. But a moment later he was grinning too.

“Ok so I wanna hear the rest of Rachel’s story!” Taylor said. Rachel wondered if she really wanted to hear the story or if she just didn’t want to listen to an hour-long diatribe from Nathan about his money and pharmaceutical acumen. Victoria was rolling her eyes, clearly not interested, and Nathan seemed like he could care less. But everyone else was looking at her expectantly so she picked up where she left off.

“So, I think I was telling you about the time my friend in junior high took me to the beach at night to see ‘devil lights.’ She just came home from the beach and was so excited that she convinced me to sneak out to go back with her. The first thing I noticed when we got there was the surf was really high that night. But then I noticed inside the crest of the waves a glowing bluish green light. Now at first I thought what you are all probably thinking…”

“That you were high, too?” Victoria said.

“…that the light was coming from the parking lot lights, or just reflecting from the city.” Rachel ignored the interruption. “But as I got closer I could see the light was in the waves themselves. Each one glowing and bright like an aurora floating on the surface of the ocean.” Rachel laughed as she remembered how truly awesome it was. She gestured with her hands to mimic the movement of the waves, and how the electrified light moved inside the crests of each one as it tumbled to break on the beach at her feet. The acid was fully taking hold of her as she continued her story with enthusiasm and the audacity of a performer. She put her hands out in front of her as if she were back at the beach and running her fingers through the wet sand. The others watching her leaned in, even Victoria, utterly absorbed in the story. “As I moved my fingers through the sand, flashes of light like electric sparks danced through my fingers as if I were reshaping the very constellations themselves beneath my hands!”

“Wait, so why are they called ‘devil lights’ anyway?” Zachary asked. He seemed troubled about that fact and was hitching his shoulders uncomfortably. Rachel turned toward him and gave him what she knew must have been her most wicked smile.

“They are called ‘devil lights’ because they are made by ‘luciferins’ in the water. But that isn’t the only place they exist. They are also in the air all around us…” Rachel whispered excitedly. Zachary leaned back from her as she waved her hands in the air. They were all high, but every one of them would swear later they saw sparkling lights in the air when she twirled her fingers in front of her.

Victoria started laughing hysterically and said in a voice that was mildly derisive but bordering on fear, “Oh my god, Rachel. You so love to make up stories. You don’t actually expect us to believe this bullshit, do you?” Nathan and the others giggled uncertainly. With her performance over, the mood shifted in the group and Rachel just shrugged.

“I don’t expect you to believe anything,” she said simply. “But look up bioluminescent plankton and you’ll get an idea of what I saw.” Then she laughed with the rest of them though she was certain her laughter was for a different reason. The night wore on in a strange sense of timelessness. They may have been sitting there for twenty minutes or twenty hours for all that Rachel could tell. Her thoughts wandered away from them and back again. She thought about Frank, and Chloe, and nearly worried herself into a bad trip trying to figure out what she was going to do about it. She loved them both and felt trapped by both. She gave up trying to figure it out and instead allowed herself to get excited about the road trip she and Frank were leaving on in a few days. It was a business trip for him, but for her it was going to be a test. She just had to convince him that road trips with her were going to be the most amazing experiences of his life, and worth leaving Arcadia Bay over…

A long moment or a short eternity seemed to pass. She didn’t know it, but Rachel was staring straight at Nathan without blinking and had been for a while. The others became aware of it when another joint was passed around and she didn’t even budge or flinch when Zach tried to give it to her. Everyone was staring at her when she said in a flat distant voice, “You are a fucking insect.”

“What the fuck Rachel?” Nathan said. They were interrupted suddenly by a raven that swooped in, wings beating the air loudly in the momentary hush. It flew right over their fire and landed on the squat utility building behind the lighthouse. It cawed once and then chittered in its own strange language. Rachel felt like she should have understood it but it was lost on the tip of her tongue. With a sense of inexplicable urgency, Rachel grabbed one of Chloe’s sharpies out of her bag and walked into the darkness behind the small building. Kelly got up and followed her, clearly worried about her wandering off alone.

“Where are you going?” Kelly asked. “Are you ok?”

Rachel walked ahead of her in a measured pace, her eyes half closed and focused ahead. She began mumbling in a strange language that she heard herself saying, but couldn’t understand the meaning. “Golgoth, Erg Machaon, Firost de Toroge, Sov Sthrochnis, Talweg Acippé…” Her voice became louder and reverberated in her chest, seeming to come from deep within her pelvis. She yanked the cap off the marker and tossed it aside. She began to draw strange glyphs in a random pattern, filling them in as she continued to chant. “Svesiest, Boscavo Silamphre, Callirhoé, Délcoon…Léarch!” She finished the last glyph and saw that the symbols made a triangle together. As she finished the last one, the triangle seemed to glow with a blue-green light.

“What…what is that?” Kelly asked breathlessly. The light faded from the images and Rachel blinked uncertainly. A strong breeze picked up from off the bay and Rachel suddenly felt the chill in every part of her being.

“I don’t know…but I think its time to leave,” Rachel said. By the time they got back to the group and dampened the fire, the wind had picked up to a whipping gale.

∞

Rachel wasn’t in her body. She knew that by now. She didn’t need it whenever her mind tended to wander off. She was walking down the street with her backpack on her shoulder, wondering again if she should just leave right now. Across the bay she could see the silhouette of the lighthouse against the deepening dusk. The lantern lit, but not rotating, seemed like a bright star sitting on top of the tower. The breeze coming off the shore swept her hair briefly across her face until she gathered it in one hand and tossed it over her shoulder. Far up the street, she could see the paired neon lights of the Two Whales diner glowing bright. Maybe Chloe would be there coffee camping and drawing her doodles on napkins or in her notebook? If you hadn’t been ignoring her texts last week, maybe you could text her now to meet you, she thought bitterly. Well never mind that. If she’s there I’ll pull her to her feet just so I can fall into her arms and she can kiss me and tell me how awful it’s been while I was away. She picked up her pace in front of the ACFC and crossed the street. The homeless lady that lived behind the diner between McFlynn’s and the Two Whales was repositioning her makeshift plastic tarp against the evening breeze.

Rachel bounded up the steps to the front door of the diner and walked in. A lumber yard worker was walking back from the jukebox to sit at the bar, an old country song playing on an old scratchy record. Brandy, the swing shift waitress was behind the counter working on her side work but stopped to wave at Rachel, who took a seat so she could look out across the bay. Brandy brought her a cup of coffee and Rachel took out her cell phone, notebook and pen. Maybe Chloe would show up later. It was still early. She liked to hang out here sometimes at night when her mom, Joyce wasn’t around to give her shit. Rachel stared at her cell phone, breathing slowly.

Hours seemed to pass as the night grew darker and people came and left. Rachel had already finished a club sandwich and fries, and her plate was gone. Some drunk college kids had taken up the corner on the other side of the door near the gumball machine and were making rude jokes about each other. The lumber yard worker was replaced by a worn out looking truck driver. Rachel’s notebook was empty but for a few scratched out lines. The auto play on the jukebox kicked in, playing “She’s Not There” by the Zombies. Of course, Chloe wouldn’t show up just because Rachel wanted to see her, as if she could just summon her like a necromancer raising the dead. Even if she did show up, Rachel knew she didn’t deserve the adoration Chloe would show her. Chloe would be funny and sweet and brash, and punch Rachel on the arm and then…

“It’s too late to say you’re sorry

How would I know, why should I care

Please don’t bother trying to find her

She’s not there…”

This place is a fucking time capsule, Rachel thought. I really need to get the hell out of here. Chloe might forgive her when she found out, but could she forgive herself? That was the real reason she hadn’t texted her yet and she knew it. Because the moment she saw her, she knew that she would hate herself even more, and probably pick a fight just to cover it up. “This is fucking stupid,” she said to herself. She’s better off without you anyway. Gathering up her belongings she dropped the money for her bill on the table and walked out into the night air.

The trucker was standing outside smoking a cigarette. She smiled at him and dropped her bag next to the building to get out her own cigarettes. She was still only a casual smoker, mostly when drinking or partying. Fuck. That was more often than not anymore. Anyway, she just wanted an excuse to talk to the trucker. Cigarette in hand, she rummaged through her bag for a few moments before turning to the trucker.

“Well, shit. I don’t suppose I could bum a light, could I?” She smiled sweetly.

“Sure.” He handed her a zippo lighter and waited for her to hand it back. Rachel took a drag and then turned toward him.

“I’ll bet you get to see all kinds of interesting places driving a truck.”

“How the hell’d you know I’m a trucker?” he asked roughly.

“I noticed you have a way of paying attention to everything around you, but in a practiced passive way. Every trucker I’ve ever met does the same thing. Besides, I saw you parking across the street earlier.”

“Pfft. Smart ass. Well I’ll tell you this: hauling loads will take you all over the damned place but you’ll miss half of it if your doing it right. It ain’t a fucking vacation.”

“That actually makes a lot of sense. I’d bet that could be frustrating going places and not being able to enjoy them.” It reminded her of driving with Frank, actually.

“It pays the bills,” he said curtly.

“I don’t suppose you ever go to Los Angeles, do you?”

“Not if I can help it. Nothing but flakes and nuts in L.A.” He took a drag off his cigarette clearly trying to finish it and the conversation.

“I actually need to get to L.A. for work. As a model and actress, that is the only place to really break into showbusiness. Just like you I have to go where the work is,” She leaned toward him. “If you are ever headed that way, or near there, I would love to roll out with you! I am an exceptional conversationalist and story teller, and I could regale you with my singing.” He gave her a look that suddenly made her skin crawl, staring her up and down so hard she thought he might be able to fit her for a costume.

“Shit. I get it now. I didn’t know there were ‘lot lizards’ hanging out at the Two Whales nowadays,” he chuckled. “Do you really wanna go to L.A. or are you just trying to make some quick cash?”

“No, I really do want to get to L.A. I-”

“Well I think we could barter…something…for a lift,” he smiled for the first time and it was full of all the things he was imagining doing to her. “But I could only get you as far as Oakland. Still that’s closer than you are now right?”

“Never mind,” she said, seething. Rachel took a step back and grabbed her bag off the ground. This disgusting pig thought she was a prostitute? Why? Because she was being nice to him? Because she asked for a ride? What a pathetic piece of shit!

“Hey now wait a minute,” he said.

“Fuck off,” Rachel scowled. He grabbed her arm as she tried to walk past him. Rachel instinctively dropped her bag and pushed him back against the wall with both hands. Before he could react, she brought her knee up into his groin. He bent forward slightly, in pain, and she punched him in the side of the temple. She grabbed her bag and ran away. She heard him calling her a fucking bitch but he didn’t seem to be following.

∞

Darkness. A darkness that slowly takes shape into shadows against white and gray textures. Her eyes open, but tears in her eyes are refracting the light and making everything blurry. The darkness always comes in waves and ebbs away slowly like dawn on a gloomy morning. She can hear a muffled voice speaking to her excitedly about something. She feels like she should be able to make it out, but it is all distorted and distant, as if from behind a wall. Her head is bumping rhythmically against a chair leg but she can’t move her head to get clear of it. Blinking the tears away, they run down the side of her face into her ears. She can hear panted breathing that isn’t her own, and dubstep music in the background. She is being moved again. Her head lolls to the side and she can see Nathan on top of her. His face is covered in a sheen of sweat. Why had she never noticed how porous and splotchy his face was before?

“You like this, don’t you bitch?” he said. “I can take whatever I want! Jefferson can go fuck himself. Don’t tell me what to do!” Nathan’s voice was distant and distracted. His litany went on in fits and starts between his labored breathing. His eyes were dilated and puffy, bulging out of his face. Something between a whimper and a growl stitched itself through his voice.

“Insect,” Rachel exhaled. Nathan looked down at her face for the first time and realized she was staring at him blankly, expressionless.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he shouted in her face. Foamy spittle sprayed her face.  He slapped her, but it didn’t sting even though it rocked her head to the side. The slap felt like an echo. Her whole body felt numb. “You belong to me, whore! You could have had everything…but you gave yourself to that piece of shit Frank. Loser lives in a fucking RV! And then Jefferson seduced you? How stupid are you? I could have fucking given you the whole fucking town but you just kept teasing me and teasing me…and now I don’t know what I’m going to do.” Nathan moved away from her and sat on the floor next to her with his arms over his knees, crying with his head on his forearms.

Rachel tried to speak again but her throat was too dry, her mouth felt swollen and spongy. She couldn’t believe she ever thought of him as a friend. Nathan was a rabid dog. That was what she wanted to say. A rabid dog that needed to be put down. It would be a mercy killing. For the greater good of society. But she couldn’t speak. She could only listen to his sobs and ranting at her about how she belonged to him. He clumsily pulled her panties and shorts back up and propped her up against the wall. She was still wearing her black t-shirt but her bra was gone. She wondered how many different drugs he was amped up on when he began talking about how he could take better care of her than anyone.

The club music was still playing in the background, some sort of house trance remix of “She’s Not There.” It’s too late to say you’re sorry, how would I know, why should I care. Please don’t bother trying to find her, she’s not there… Nathan walked to a rolling cart and grabbed a camera. He began taking pictures of her rambling about art and photography, models, and something about Jefferson teaching him the way. She glared at him, not really listening. Her wrists and ankles were still bound in duct tape. He took a few more shots and was reviewing the images on the camera and seemed irritable.

“Rabid,” Rachel croaked. Nathan sneered and grabbed a syringe and refilled it with GHB. He walked back to her aggressively and dragged her over to the coffee table and roughly threw her face down on top of it. Black ringed white spots danced in front of her vision and she thought she tasted blood in her mouth. The raven jumped up from the floor onto the table next to her face.

You don’t have to stay here. You can’t change this. Why are you torturing yourself?

Nathan was yelling again but it was muffled and distant. All the shadows in the room were writhing and swirling angrily. She felt the pinch of the needle in her neck and an icy sensation spreading through her whole body. The raven jumped away and flew to the other side of the room. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a bright blue-green light flickering toward her. Devil lights, she thought. Suddenly she was back on the beach watching the waves rolling with the bioluminescent plankton shimmering brightly through the water. The sand sparkled under her fingers.

“Rach!” Chloe exclaimed. She was in a bikini and emerging from the water. Her blue-dyed hair glowed brightly with an electric light as she ran toward Rachel and lifted her in an embrace, spinning her around. For a moment, she could see her breath fogging up the glass of the coffee table, and a bright electric blue butterfly fluttering around in front of her face, and at the same time, Chloe kissing her on the beach and holding her hand as they ran along the edge of the breaking waves. Her breath stopped fogging up the glass a few minutes later, but it didn't matter because she was with Chloe. She finally knew what she wanted more than anything else in the world.

(To be continued)

Link to next episode in the comments

Warning:

Spoilers for Life is Strange and Life is Strange: Before the Storm.

Trigger Warning:

This fanfic will have disturbing images, including scenes of kidnapping, date rape, drug use, violence, sexual content and adult language. Recommended for mature audiences and viewer discretion is advised:

“Rachel?” Chloe sounded alarmed. Rachel was standing with her arms folded in the junkyard Chloe seemed to like so much. “What are you doing way over here?” asked Chloe. They didn’t often come to this side of the junkyard now that they had their own little space set up inside the abandoned managers shack. At first it had been fun coming here with Chloe. It was a place where they could be alone most of the time and plot their future and dream. Right in front of her, there was an old orange block letter “Hotel” sign covered in dust. Some of the paneling was broken and the lighting elements were visible through the cracks. She thought of her dreams of traveling the world and being a star as she looked at the sign. But it was broken and discarded. Was that what would become of her dreams?

“I’m never going to get out of this place, am I?” she finally said. She turned to face Chloe and scowled. “All you ever do is come up with excuse after fucking excuse and now I’m trapped in this junkyard with all the other trash!” Chloe’s face looked stricken and hurt. But her face hardened a moment later and her hands clenched into fists.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now? I told you I was good to go when I got the truck registered and you decided we should wait after all so you could finish at your precious Blackhell!”

(God, she was so beautiful when she was pissed. Where is she now? Where is she…)

“You said your career would ‘sink like a Galleon full of gold’ if you left too soon.” Chloe continued. “Now that we’re broke and you don’t have daddy’s money, suddenly it’s my fault?” Utterly exasperated, Chloe punched a rusty oil drum next to her, splitting her knuckles open. “Fuck!” she yelled. She grabbed an empty beer bottle, and threw it at an old school bus, shattering one of the few remaining windows. Rachel watched her stalk off, feeling like an asshole because she knew Chloe was right, but too proud to follow her. At least, not yet.

The raven flew down out of the evergreens swaying on the edge of the property and landed on the ‘H’ of the hotel sign. You should have gone after her. Rachel folded her arms and turned away from it, rolling her eyes.

“I’ll make it up to her later.” (I promise you Chloe I will).

That sounds like it would have been fun. The raven hopped down to the ground and began pecking at the ground. Rachel looked over her shoulder and smiled at the raven’s insinuation. Her smile soured when she saw blood seeping out of the ground and soiling its beak. Rachel stared in fixated horror as a face was slowly revealed bit by bit as blood washed the topsoil away. First the forehead where the raven was pecking mercilessly, and then an eyebrow, followed by an eye staring lifelessly into the sky. As more and more of the face was revealed, Rachel began to scream uncontrollably.

“No! Oh god, no! Not her!” Her voice cracked as she continued to scream wordlessly. Even as she fell to the ground balling her fists over her eyes, she couldn’t get the sight of Chloe’s face ripping apart where the raven had cracked her forehead open.

Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

∞

Long Beach, Rachel was seven years old. Her parents, Rose and James Amber were sitting in foldout chairs under an umbrella on the beach while Rachel played in the sand with her Barbies. The peaceful sound of the waves washing up on the shore was a soothing backdrop to the cries of seagulls and murmur of other people, punctuated by the occasional laugh or friends calling out to each other splashing in the water. Rachel dug a hole with the plastic shovel.

“Let’s lay down right here” said Rachel in her best ‘Ken’ voice. She laid the Barbie on top of the Ken doll in the hole and stared at it blankly seeming to consider it uncertainly. Suddenly changing her mind, she picked him up and tossed him angrily into the sand bucket and turned it over. She then carefully buried the Barbie in the hole with the sand as tears welled up in her eyes. Her crying intensified and gets the attention of Rose who comes over to her and asks her why she is crying.

“Barbie is buried in the ground,” Rachel sobbed. Rose hugged her helplessly, giving James a questioning look.

“Rachel is in touch with some reality beyond the gilded cage.” James said sadly, quoting a song from one of his favorite bands. “Cast in this unlikely role, ill equipped to act with insufficient tact.” He turned to Rachel and said, “One must put up barriers to keep oneself intact.” Rachel cried that much the harder for her young heart had never known such grief. All the seagulls on the beach suddenly flew into the air, crying out in what sounded like panic. A raven flying in their midst caused a jumbled mess of feathers and broken wings as they crashed into each other to get away.

∞

A blurry shadow with a familiar voice stands over Rachel taking her picture. “It pains me to hurt you in this way,” the voice says. “But I’d do it again and again and again to keep you…mine.” She is confused again. The shadow moves closer and further away from her like waves on a beach. For a moment she is on the beach with her dad building a sand castle, then hiking in the Cascades, then riding a train with his arm around her in Paris on the way to the Louvre.

“I loved you dad. Why did you lie to me?”

“Oh, that’s too precious.” The shadow said as it washed up on her shore. The shadow’s face became clear. Its eyes were hidden by the reflection of light off the black rimmed glasses. A neat trimmed beard and short messy brown hair. The appealing façade of a monster. “Why is it that everyone around here wants me to be their surrogate father? Not that having you call me ‘daddy’ doesn’t give me a certain thrilling je ne sais quois.” The shadow chuckled.

“Poisonous slave, got by the devil himself.” Rachel mumbled. She wanted to scream and slam her fists into his smug face until he choked to death on his own blood. But she was so tired. She couldn’t fight past the drowsiness. She gathered every ounce of will she had and channeled it into trying to stand up. But the best she could manage was to raise her head. Her vision slightly cleared but the room seemed to stretch to infinity all around her.

“Ah, Prospera. How fitting. ‘All your charms are o’erthrown and what strength you have’s your own. Which is most faint now tis…plain to see? You must now be confined by me.” The shadow chuckled at his own ad-lib. “Too bad I came to Blackwell too late to see you in the Tempest. I heard you were really good.”

“She really was.” Another voice said. Rachel looked past the shadow to see a woman in her middle years, but the worse for wear, with long blonde hair. She was wearing black ripped up jeans and a Misfits t-shirt under an open red flannel. The arms of the flannel were rolled up revealing a sleeve of tattoos, and she was sitting on the couch shooting up heroin. She smiled at Rachel, her teeth yellow and her eyes, black caverns. “Don’t worry my little star. Now we can finally escape everything together. No more sorrow, no more pain, and especially no more guilt! We are and always have been nothing. Soon, nothingness is all there will be. After all, the stars are all dead…even you. Love and life were a mistake and this is the solution.”

Jefferson laughed.

“You aren’t real! This is not happening. You’re both…a lie,” she said.

Jefferson paused with a needle full of ghb half way toward her. “On the contrary, we are more real than you are about to be if reality is defined by what exists, and what doesn’t.” She should have been afraid, but his words just infuriated her more. Rachel’s rage emanated from her like heat from a furnace. Her anger burst into a shockwave and the apparitions of Jefferson and Sera blew away like ashes on the wind, leaving her in the silence of the dark room, its quiet hum and sterile shades of white and black a comfort after the nightmare. She was beginning to think the room was the only true thing left.

The shadows moved clockwise around the room until they coalesced into the raven perched upon the back of a chair. Why do you keep coming back here? There has got to be a way to escape this, she thought. I won’t give up. I don’t have to become my parents. I don’t have to be a cheating liar or a nihilistic junkie! Amusement like sparkling electricity bloomed in Rachel’s mind and she stamped it down with her anger. “I’m glad you think this is funny, carrion eating motherfucker!”

Sorry, spilled milk. If you think you can pour yourself back into the bottle then don’t let me stop you.

(To be continued...)

Link to next episode in the comments

Shallow measured breath and tousled hair

Delicate lashes resting upon skin fair

She slightly expands and slightly falls

Dreaming of a world without walls

Soft and luscious, barely parted lips

Blanket draped curves from shoulders to hips

Her peaceful sounds of sleep solace my soul

Through fields of magic and dream we stroll

Visions from the matrix linger before my eyes

So many selves are we behind this disguise

In alchemy our blood transformed into fire

Infinite hearts echoing in resonant desire

A memory seared into a collective heart

We walk the world together, forever apart

Her touch is the seasons, her smile is death

Outside the tapestry of time, we share the same breath.

Mazecrafted 2014©

        “Ma’am ?” The waitress said again. Juny looked up startled, not sure where her mind had wandered off to. “I asked if you want another refill?” the waitress held up the coffee pot expectantly. Juny stared fixedly at the diner logo on the front of the menu. It depicting a diesel truck breaking through a road guard to reach the namesake of the diner: Mohave Mack’s printed in comic book block letters. In the awkward silence, the jukebox spun an old recording of I Fall to Pieces while she tried to clear her head.

         “No.” she said. “I was just leaving.”

        With her purse already over her shoulder, she gathered up her duffel bag and backpack, wondering which one she would have to ditch first. She walked past the barstools along the length of the diner and dismissed the few men sitting there brooding over their coffee. It was late morning, and the sun was already well above the horizon. Her car had broken down just outside of town and she’d deserted it at the repair shop. She didn’t have the money to fix it and she’d already taken everything of any value to her out of it.

         Along the line of trucks there were a few late starters still fueling up, or inspecting their rigs before heading out on the road. She moved surreptitiously up the line, examining the drivers she could see. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but she would know when she saw it, or him. It wasn’t hope that drove her, but necessity. She’d already given up hope a few days ago. Hope was a luxury. She didn’t believe in luck either. All she had was her resolve, a sort of resigned abandonment. She was going to get out, or she would be dead, but she wouldn’t stay here.

          She avoided the old Mexican man with the sagging pants and white tank top. She also ignored the lanky creep with the button up shirt and thick square glasses. Almost near the end, she saw someone that might work. Checking the connectors on the trailer, he was chubby, middle aged, and wearing a “Real Men Love Jesus” T-shirt. She approached him dragging her bag as if it were a little heavier than it actually was. Innocent as the day he was born, the puppy dog look in his eyes was already there even before he glanced over and noticed her. He was perfect. She smiled at him encouragingly and he walked toward her to offer help.

         Just over his shoulder though, she saw another truck driver doing his pre-trip inspection. He was tall, with dark messy hair, and arms fully sleeved with tattoos. Standing up on the side of his truck, his face was in plain view. She got a chill when she saw him. It couldn’t be…it just couldn’t! It was impossible. The helpful puppy dog was just starting to ask if she needed help, but she walked by him like he wasn’t there, moving toward the dark haired man as if in a trance.

         “Nico?” She called hesitantly. He looked up and locked eyes with her. Mutual recognition reflected in his eyes and confirmed her suspicion. Everything that had happened to her since she last saw him seemed to pass through her mind. Getting married and moving away, dropping out of college, the divorce, the string of bad relationships, even the places her mind didn’t want to go, the watermarks of several years all seemed to slide past her as she dropped her bags and ran toward him.

         “Juny!” he said laughing as he pulled her into an embrace and lifted her up, spinning her in a circle before setting her down again.

         “What are you doing here?” They both said at the same time.

         “I can’t believe this!” Juny said. “It’s really you! I’m heading back to Omaha!”

         “No shit?” Nico laughed. “I’m on my way to Salt Lake City, and then heading home myself.”

         “I don’t suppose you have room for an old friend, do you?” she asked sweetly.

         “Hm. I dunno…What do I get out of it?” Nico grinned mischievously.

        “Eye candy!” Juny posed with her hand on her hip and put on pouty lips. “And better company for a road trip than your own boring self!”

         “True that!” he laughed. “Hop in.”

        A few moments later, her mind was still reeling with the incredible turn of events as she climbed up into the cab of his truck. The inside was pleasantly dark, with wood paneling along the dash. There was some sort of fragrance she couldn’t place coming from the dark sleeping compartment, hidden by a curtain behind the seats. It vaguely reminded her of going to church with her grandmother when she was a little girl. He hopped into the driver’s seat after tossing her duffel bag into the back. As he drove them out of the truck-stop parking lot, Juny was startled by the sound of a brazen gong, quickly followed by wind chimes, a rain stick, and something that sounded like a drunken xylophone player falling asleep at his instrument. “Hope you don’t mind my driving music. It helps me to concentrate.”

         “Ok, weirdo.” She shook her head in amazement.

∞

        They headed north on I-15 through the Mohave Desert, catching up on almost fifteen years of separation. He told her about how things had changed over the years back home, old hang-outs torn down, and what things are still the same. He told her about the army, getting married, his daughter, the divorce, and truck driving school. All the while she studied his face, his mannerisms, even his clothes as if trying to memorize them. She could still see the boy she used to know, her childhood friend under his masculine features.  

         “Anyway so what about you? How did you end up out here?” Nico asked. Juny stared out the window at the distant mountains, all rock and sand, the salt flats, and the scraggly bushes scattered across the barren desert floor. She wasn’t sure how to answer. The past few years were one mistake after another, from one dangerous choice to the next. It was a pattern of self destructive behavior culminating at rock bottom in that lonely desert.

         “Well, I finally got sick of California and decided to leave. But my car died outside of Victorville. Now I know why the Eagles wrote Hotel California. You can check out but don’t you dare try to leave!” Her voice became distant. “I was just going to hitch a ride, or walk if I had to. I just wanted to get back home. Nothing was gonna stop me.” She paused. “Then you came along like a guardian angel.” She smiled at him.

         “Oh I’m no angel.” He grinned.  “California is nice to visit but I couldn’t live here. Unless it was up north somewhere. I don’t know how you made it this long! Last time I saw you was just before you moved out here with Charles. Whatever happened to that guy anyway?”

         Up ahead she could see they were just about to cross out of California. It was the first time since she moved that she was leaving with no intention of ever coming back. The cheap glamour of shopping outlets and fast food joints that mark Stateline didn’t spoil her feeling of freedom at all. She was finally going to be free. Stretching her arms above her head, she put her feet up on the dash and felt some of her tension dissipate.

        She thought about where Nico and she had left off. Nico had been there when she and Charles first started dating. He had been there for a while even after. But they had grown apart before she was married, and she never even said goodbye when she left for California. Somehow, that had always bothered her. It had felt like being interrupted before the end of a movie, and never getting back around to seeing the ending. But that isn’t what she told him about.

         She also didn’t tell him about their first few years in San Diego either, when it was just her and Charles against the world, working while he finished college, buying a house, trips to Ensenada, house parties, becoming socialites among the upper echelon. The distractions, the constant work and distance that grew like a disease between them. She didn’t mention her terrible loneliness in those years, or the opportunities to cheat that she passed up on. At the time, she had told herself that they were just going through a rough spot, that things would get better.

        “Charles and I split up about five years ago,” she said finally. “After all the sacrifices I made for him the bastard ended up cheating on me. I don’t even know how many times, or with how many other women. I felt like a fucking idiot! I was just a trophy he could show around town for social functions, a political expediency. I guess hindsight is twenty-twenty. I know now he never really loved me.”

         “Wow I’m sorry. I never saw that coming. Listen if you don’t want to talk about it I totally understand.”

        “I don’t mind now. It was a long time ago. It feels nice to tell it to someone who ‘gets’ me. I’ll tell you this: he was a pretty good liar. If he had a talent for anything, it would be that. I really did believe our relationship was real.”

         “There must have been a time when it was real, at least, in the beginning.”

        “I don’t think so. It was never about anything other than what he could get from me. He was a psychopath. He actually had the audacity to look at me with pity when I found out.”

         “Are you sure it wasn’t guilt?”

        “Psh. Yes! When I confronted him about it, he didn’t apologize or try to explain anything. He just asked if that meant we were over. As if I would stay with him after that!”

         “I don’t know Juny. I mean it is shitty what happened. But I think he really did love you. After you first started dating I remember him telling me once that you were his soul mate.”

         “Oh yeah,” she said scornfully. “He told me the same thing all the time. In the beginning, I totally bought into his bullshit. I had my whole world wrapped up in his success because I thought it was ‘our’ success. Once the divorce was finalized, he just walked out of the courtroom without even looking at me. I’d be just as happy to never see him again.”

         “Well for what it’s worth, I thought you guys would be happy together the rest of your lives. I actually used to imagine it and be happy for you. I’m sorry to hear that wasn’t the case,” Nico said.

         “I used to think the same thing,” Juny said.

        “Hey, remember when we were in third grade and we went on that field trip to the Western Heritage Museum down by the river?” Nico asked suddenly.

         “Oh my God! Misty?”

         “Yes!” Nico smacked the steering wheel laughing.

         “She was being such a little snot! She kept bullying everyone and making fun of that slow kid…”

         “Carl Mitchell.” Nico interjected.

        “Yeah. She told the teacher Carl pissed his pants after spilling her soda in his lap! He didn’t even try to defend himself. Wow. I haven’t thought of that in years!” Juny said.

         “You know what’s really weird?” Nico said. “The last time I remember seeing her was when we pushed her into that broom closet and locked the door. I don’t remember seeing her on the bus trip home, and I don’t remember ever seeing her at school again after. But she must have been there, right?”

         Juny sat in silence for a few minutes.

         “I don’t remember either…”

        “Sometimes I think maybe she is still in that broom closet, arms crossed and refusing to cry, keeping her pride instead of being rescued.”

∞

         They passed through Vegas so caught up in childhood reveries that Juny hardly noticed. By late afternoon, they were already nearing the Arizona border. Juny was telling him about her most recent break up with a guitarist in a screamo band. It had been fun until he started getting too serious. He had written a song about her which she thought was pretty cool. But she knew she had to leave when he said he was in love with her. He didn’t even really know her, so how could he really be in love? What was he in love with? It was stupid. And she couldn’t do to him what Charles had done to her. Keep him living in an illusion of something that was never going to go anywhere.

         “I suppose there is a sort of impeccability in that,” Nico said. “But I still think you are wrong about Charles never loving you. When he told me that you were his soul mate, I didn’t believe it, but I could tell he was being sincere. He was totally besotted with you.”

         “Why are you so hell bent on defending him?” Juny said irritably.  He hadn’t been there. He hadn’t seen how manipulative and deceitful Charles had been. He had been off having an amazing life while she was lost, empty, and alone. Some part of her knew that was unfair, and not true, but she squashed it down.

        “I’m not defending what he did.” Nico broke into her thoughts. “I am just saying that your decision that he never loved you might not be true. But true or not, it is affecting how you look at the world. Maybe his feelings were strong but gradually faded. It’s like when you make plans to go out with friends. When you first make the plans, you are excited and can’t wait to see them. But then the day comes and you’re tired. You’ve had a bad week, and you still kind of want to see them, but you really don’t feel like going…”

         “Oh my god!” Juny interrupted him. Her incredulity was boiling over. “Really? You’ve got to be kidding me! So you can make a promise that is supposed to come from the heart, from a supposed ‘soul mate,’ his words not mine, and then just change your mind? Like something as inconsequential as a lunch? Ugh! There are certain things you don’t say unless you really fucking mean them. Apparently men don’t get it though. So is that what happened with you and your wife? Did you just one day wake up and say, ‘I’m tired of you, it’s over.’”

         “Not exactly.” He said, completely unaffected by her outburst. “We were both relatively happy, but I always felt like there was something off about our relationship. We weren’t lacking anything really, but somehow I always felt like something was missing, like she wasn’t right for me. And I think she could sense it too. I guess it finally wore her down. She was sick of trying to live up to an ideal I had in my mind that she couldn’t match.”

        “Everybody has an ideal that they hold a partner up to on some level. If you were happy in every other way and never made a big deal of it then why should she? Didn’t she do the same thing to you?”

         “Not that I was aware of.”

         Juny rolled her eyes. “Trust me; it was there even if you were too blind to see it.”

        “The truth is she knew who my ideal was. My standard was my best friend growing up. Someone I could talk to about anything. Someone that I felt totally comfortable being myself with. That is what I always thought my marriage should be like. Like it was when we were kids.”

        Juny looked out the window to keep her face from showing. The highway was curving through tall canyons with steep craggy surfaces all around them. She had to swallow hard before she could speak. “That’s really fucked up.” It came out softly, which irritated her because she had wanted to pack it with as much scorn as she could muster. “That she knew you felt that is awful. That you would admit it is even worse.” Her voice was regaining some of its strength. “And that you would confess that to me is completely shitty! That is totally unfair!”

        “Really? So you’re going to deny that you’ve done the same thing in all of your relationships? It never crossed your mind that Charles was feeling the same inadequacy as my wife?”

         “Oh ok. So it’s my fault my husband was unfaithful. That’s great. Thanks for that.”

        “I’m not saying that. But if you’re going to walk around with the stigmata of a victim everywhere you go, don’t leave a wake of other victims behind you.” Nico shook his head. “I’m sorry. I’ve been quiet for a long time. Sometimes I forget how to talk to people.”

         “No go ahead and keep talking. It’s amusing. I’d rather listen to your idiocy then this crap you call music.”

        He turned his head toward her with his eyes bulging out in mock affront and his face a perfect replica of the mask of tragedy. She bit her lip, but it was no good. They both burst out laughing.

         “How is it you never get mad?” she asked.

        “I feel anger; I just don’t feed it with thought. Anyway, when you look at people and understand them, and understand yourself, there isn’t much to be angry about anymore. Here: we are in Utah now. Let’s stop for dinner before you decide to chew my head off.” It was nearing sunset when they came into St. George, Utah. They sat in comfortable silence in a roadside diner watching the sun go down behind the distant desert mountains on the other side of the freeway. It was dark by the time they left.

∞

         Utah was not else but headlights on the highway and darkness all around. Nico had turned off the music they had listened to all day, and strangely Juny felt mildly anxious without it. They had been driving for hours since leaving St George. The time had stretched out so that she felt like dawn should have come hours ago. She couldn’t remember the last time they went through a town, or passed a gas station. The quiet solace from earlier was gone and Juny felt uneasy. Nico radiated the silence like an impenetrable shroud. She wanted to ask him about his tattoos. She had been staring at them since he picked her up, but still couldn’t tell what any of them really were. She recognized images in them, like the caduceus and what looked like dna strands.  There were other symbols and glyphs which looked familiar, but she couldn’t place them.

         She tried to think of a story from their childhood she could reminisce about. But every time she was about to speak, the hum of the engine and the sound of the highway would overwhelm her, stilling her tongue. In this oppressive mood, she began to feel doubt toward him. His face was set in a way that made him look nothing like her childhood friend. She tried to rationalize her ratcheting anxiety, to explain it as her unwillingness to accept something good was happening after so much bad. But at the same time, his absent and brooding silence made him seem alien and strange. What if it was her friend, but he had grown up to be a sociopath? Was there any way he could have stalked her to that truck stop? A lot could happen to change a person over the years. How did she know he was safe?

         She began to think about the 9mm she had in her purse. He looked over at her at that moment. The console lights reflecting off his left eye looked menacing. His right eye looked like a pit of darkness. She felt like he was looking through her, and yet not seeing her at the same time. He looked inhuman. Like a nightmare caricature of a person. Inside, her panic had reached a level of absolute terror. Outwardly, she tried to take long slow breaths, casually slipping her hand into her purse to grip the pistol. She wasn’t going to use it; she just wanted to feel safe. He looked at her again out of the corner of his eye and smirked. She gripped the pistol tighter.

         “You know if you shoot me, you’re gonna kill us both. Don’t forget I am in the driver’s seat.”

        “You’re frightening me!” Juny’s voice was thick with emotion. Her voice sounded like it was coming from someone else. She pulled the gun out of her purse. The spell of silence was finally broken, but she still surprised herself when she began shouting. “I want out, do you understand? Not here, but the next town. Or so help me God I will blow your fucking brains all over the window!”

         “Some things never change.” Nico shook his head. “You’ve always been afraid of me. Ever since we were little. Do you remember? We used to dream together until you freaked out about it.”

         “Bullshit!” she said. “That never happened. You’re a fucking liar. You’re not Nico. I don’t know what you are but…” She trembled as a déjà vu came over her.  I don’t know who you are but you aren’t Nico. She had said that to him before, a long time ago. “The water tower,” she said as sudden memory overwhelmed her. “You would take my hand and we would float to the top…”

         “Come on Juny, its easy.” “I’m scared.” “I’ll never let you fall. You will always be safe with me.” Her pajamas turned into a pair of jeans and a puffy pink jacket, her loose flowing hair suddenly in twin braids. He wasn’t wearing a jacket, but it made her feel more confident to wear one. She looked into his eyes and he smiled. One eye seemed brighter than the other, but in these dreams it always did. “Is this real?” she asked. “Yeah,” he said simply. He pulled her hand and they floated up to the top and lay down. The stars overhead drifted by like flotsam in a stream.

         “How in the hell could I have forgotten...” More glimpses and fragments began to assert themselves in her memory. Chasing each other through the park like ghosts in the middle of the night, sitting on the roof of her house laughing until one of them woke up, exploring strange places that she still couldn’t quite remember. The nightmares. Her mind recoiled against the wall of that memory. That was when their friendship had really started to deteriorate. She had thought it was just that they were outgrowing their childhood games. But he was right. She had been frightened.

         “Look into the mirror until you disappear.” Nico reminded her.

         “When I am empty, everything I look at fulfills me…” she finished.

        Tears stung her eyes. All those years searching the faces of strangers, scanning crowds, never sure what she was looking for. It all made sense now. Even putting herself in danger- “You promised you would be there!” she sobbed. “You wouldn’t let anything happen to me. I didn’t think anything could harm me…that I was invulnerable…but you weren’t there! Even when I was raped-I was in hell and you never came.”

         “But I did. You had to survive all that on your own, it was the only thing that would make you radiant enough for me to find you. In the midst of your pain, you found the part of yourself that could not be defiled, and awoke your true self. Don’t you remember I said I would be there when you have abandoned everything, even yourself, and are falling into the abyss? ‘When all hope is lost and you are alone in the desert, I will be there.’ I promised I would catch you. And I have.”

∞

        Juny awoke to a change in momentum, and the sound of airbrakes. She groggily opened her eyes and saw they were exiting the freeway. Sitting up and stretching in her seat, she was surprised to see it was still dark outside. She could see the freeway curving off away from them in the distance and the top of the off ramp was lit by a solitary amber streetlight. Nico glanced over at her and smiled.

         “I thought you were going to sleep all the way to Omaha!” he said cheerfully.

         “Where are we?” she asked.

        “Just on the outskirts of Salt Lake City,” Nico said. “We are delivering to a warehouse just up the road. It shouldn’t take more than a half hour to unload.” Juny sat curled up in her seat watching him as he drove into the warehouse driveway, and maneuvered the truck so he could back the trailer against a loading dock. The overnight workers already had the bay door open and Nico hopped out to go help unload the trailer.

        On the opposite side of the warehouse parking lot, a line of trees blocked any view of what lay beyond. Lacking anything else to see, Juny took the time to freshen up a bit while she waited. Aside from the puffiness her face always seemed to get whenever she slept, her make-up had faded and her mascara had smeared. She used make-up remover towelettes and a compact mirror to wipe her face clean. It seemed like a week since she had put the make-up on, but really it had only been since just before breakfast.

         She dug out her eyeliner, held it up to her eyelid and paused. The lights along the outside of the warehouse gave her just enough light to really examine her face. She let the eyeliner and compact fall into her lap and studied her face in the side mirror outside the passenger door. The puffiness had gone down considerably. Aside from missing make-up, her face also seemed to have gained something. Her face looked softer than usual. Maybe it wasn’t that her face had gained something, but rather had shed layers of armor. The hardness, the tightness around her eyes and mouth were gone. For the first time in as long as she could remember, she admitted to herself that she was pretty. She smiled awkwardly, as if she had nearly forgotten how, and tossed her unused make-up back in her bag.

        “There you are!” Nico said getting back into the cab. His smile was so genuine, like a child’s that Juny smiled back. “Did you miss me?”

         “I hardly noticed you were gone.” Juny quipped. “So what happens now? I feel ready for anything.”

        “Well, the sun will be up in a few hours, but we’re heading east from here. So I’m thinking about crashing awhile, at least until after the sun is a little higher in the sky. Otherwise we’ll be driving with the sun blinding me the whole time. There is a truck stop the next off ramp. You can sleep on the top bunk.” He pulled the curtain to the sleeper quarters to show her the bunk beds. She glanced over and shook her head again. He didn’t look tired and she had already had a long nap, but stretching out and not being in that passenger seat for a while sounded great.

         It didn’t take long to get to the truck stop. Once there, Nico let her slip in behind the curtain to change into a pair of gym shorts and a t-shirt, which was what she usually wore to bed. The back of the curtain had the silhouette of a tree embroidered into it, with its twin growing upside down from the same roots. There was a small cabinet behind his seat with what looked like a strange sort of altar, and the ashes of incense on a burner.

         “Are you done yet?” Nico laughed, pushing on the curtain so that it shimmered and exposed her to the cab. She was done, but she pushed her bare leg through the opening, and wrapped herself partly in the curtain so that it draped along her body except where her leg was exposed.

        “I have not yet begun, child,” Juny said in a fake eastern European accent. She opened the curtain all the way and plopped back into the passenger seat so he could take a turn changing. When he was done, he lit a small candle, and poured oil into a warmer on the altar. The fragrance was soothing and pleasant. He put on his CD from earlier, (apparently it was from Tibet), and lay down to sleep in the candlelight. Juny lay on her side staring at the curtain wide awake.

        Her mind was silent, and the Tibetan music was lulling her into a state of wakeful peace. Looking at the curtain sideways, the mirrored trees looked like bronchial tubes. She looked over at the candle flame. She squinted her eyes off and on making little lines flare off from the column of fire. She noticed if she squinted her eyes just right, the flame would flare into another silhouette of a tree and branches.

        Behind the music, she could hear Nico’s rhythmic breathing. She carefully got down off the top bunk and knelt down beside his bed. She noticed that she felt completely content, but at the same time, watching him sleep made her feel far away from him in a disconcerting way. She wanted to be wherever he was. She crawled into the bed with him and lay beside him. Lean muscled, warm, and soft, she rested her head on his chest. She could hear his heartbeat. She kissed him lightly on the shoulder, his neck, and lips. He opened his eyes, and she felt like she was falling toward him from a great height. His left eye was reflecting the candle light as he reached up and ran his fingers along the side of her face.

         “Are you sure you are ready for this?” he asked.

         “I’ve been ready a long time,” Juny said softly.

∞

        They set out later that afternoon under a partly cloudy sky. They came out of the mountains of northern Utah and into southern Wyoming caught up in telling jokes, singing classic rock songs, and watching out for wildlife in the grasslands of the high plains. Juny hadn’t felt so care free and happy since she was a small child, if then. Whenever she and Nico looked at each other she felt amazing. It was like an echo. She could feel his energy feeding her, and hers feeding him, and both of them growing with it.

         “I’ve been trying to remember all day,” she said just after dark. “When did we first meet? I feel like you were always there. But my family moved to Omaha when I was six years old. Is that when we met?” Nico looked at her and shook his head.

         “No. We never actually met. We’ve always been together.” Nico looked at her and his left eye was shining with such warmth and love that she felt like she was floating in it. The light seemed to get brighter and brighter, filling his whole face. “We will always be together.”

         Juny felt the truck shift direction and stared in shock as the road turned to the left underneath them. The truck plowed into the guard rail and went careening down a ravine. In free fall, she heard Nico speaking but his voice had changed.

          “Ma’am? I asked if you want another refill?”

         The windshield shattered into hundreds of pieces, the glass seeming to float with her in darkness…

         Screaming in terror, Juny flung up her hands-

∞

        The waitress recoiled away from her as Juny’s flailing knocked the coffee pot out of her hands. Her scream cut off just as the coffee pot hit the ground and shattered, sending glass and coffee splattering across the tiles.  She realized she was still at Mohave Mack’s and the entire diner was staring at her. Her heart was racing a mile a minute as she lifted her shaking hands to her face. Her skin felt spongy, and oscillating as if her cells were vibrating. Her whole body seemed to be humming. The waitress was glowing like the aura of a candle. “What the hell’s wrong with you…” the waitress said. The look on her face of confusion and fear mirrored Juny’s feelings so much that she actually got the giggles.

         “Goddamn tweakers…” the waitress muttered walking back through the swinging door to the kitchen to get a mop. The men along the bar went back to stewing over their coffee cups, not wanting to get involved in anyone else’s troubles. She could sense their discomfort toward her, but somehow she felt detached from it. It had nothing to do with her. An older woman with gaunt overly rouged cheeks made sure she saw the disdainful look she had for her before looking away. The rest of her group, all seniors clearly on a bus trip to Vegas, studiously ignored her.

         In the silence, Fade Into You played on the jukebox. Everyone seemed to be glowing, radiating a soft golden light. She could feel Nico in that light. She knew she would never be able to explain what had just happened to her, but it didn’t matter. She grabbed her bags and walked out into the sunlight. It was a perfect day; warm sunlight, and a cool breeze under a blue sky with giant white thunderheads on the horizon. She put her hand on her chest, and could feel Nico’s heart beating like an echo of her own.

I've been working on my first ever fanfic based on Life is Strange. I hope that it is written well enough that even people who have never played the game and don't know the characters can still enjoy the story and be drawn in to their world. It might take me a while to get through the whole thing and I have no idea how long it is going to be yet. But I hope that the act of writing it will also be a defibrillator to my creative juices so that I can get back to working on my own original stories.

Warning:Spoilers for Life is Strange and Life is Strange: Before the Storm.Trigger Warning: This fanfic will have disturbing images, including scenes of kidnapping, date rape, drug use, violence, sexual content and adult language. Recommended for mature audiences and viewer discretion is advised:

In a chiaroscuro room with walls of white and gray, cold and lifeless, bleached skin, the smell of chemicals, fear and death. But rage is nearest, an acrid sharp scent that blurs the edge of vision. Shadows dance around the walls, phantoms of familiar shapes, hints of what can’t be remembered, and memories she avoids. The past creeps up like a stalker, knife in hand ready to pierce her heart, a heart that wounds but won’t die. The pain is infinite, eternal. She flinches away from the shadow as it nears, like a mouse in the seconds before a viper strikes. And like a mouse she is powerless to stop it.

The shadow resolved into hues of blue atop a face she loves, a face she has avoided, a face that fills her with dread. Eyes that are so soulful, so full of life, the azure depths of an ocean, emanating love like a halo that radiates a golden glow across her face. Her soft lips parted ever so slightly. God, what she would give to taste those precious lips just one more time. To touch her face or run her fingers through her blue-dyed hair… Oh Chloe, her sprite, her guardian, her love.

“Rachel?” Chloe’s beautiful lips said, her familiar voice, sharp and full of fear. And with the sound of her own name in that voice, Rachel felt an invisible knife twist once more. Chloe disappeared as the shadows on the walls resolved into scenes of her own selfishness and betrayal. Why had she run from her? Hid things, stayed away? Chloe was the one true thing in her life, her protector, lover, confidant and friend. So why had she strayed from the one person that never would have let this happen to her? The memories of her own mistakes, images and voices overlapping and swirling like a litany of accusations, buzzing in her ears louder and louder, her heart beat faster and faster until she thought she would die.

She struggled against the duct tape binding her wrists and ankles, but her muscles were like lukewarm water and she screamed in frustrated futility. She couldn’t drown out the voices in her head, or escape the blade stabbing her from within. For a brief irrational moment, she almost wished for the dreaded needle sting that erased everything and took her into the empty realm of nothingness. How many times had she slipped in and out of consciousness from that nonexistence, or floated in a waking dream, barely aware of the camera flashes, the murmur of voices, felt hands moving her lifeless limbs into awkward poses?

How many days had she been laying in this white room of harsh lights and deepening shadows? The hum of fluorescents and her own whimpering were the only sounds to keep her company. The spot on the floor beneath her face warmed by her own breath was the only comfort for what felt like an eternity. Suddenly the shadows of the room shifted and writhed, sweeping across the walls and floor like ink spilling across a page. The sound of feathers on a flapping wing startled Rachel and she flinched as the shadows gathered into the shape of a raven. It perched on an empty tripod and tilted its head to stare at her with beady black eyes. Its body wasn’t merely black, it was darkness itself, an emptiness from which all things arose; it was the void.

Well this is a fine mess you’ve gotten yourself into isn’t it? The thought was in Rachel’s mind, but it felt foreign, like it was coming from…the raven? It cawed loudly, echoing in the Dark Room’s silence and making Rachel jump. It hopped to a nearby cart and perched on the cart’s handle, extending its wings for balance and cawed at Rachel again. She pushed herself up with her hands still bound in front of her, noting the duct tape looked newly wrapped. She stared at the raven and blinked but it didn’t disappear. It seemed like it was waiting for her to speak. Rachel felt more awake and conscious than she had since she first woke up in the bunker/photography studio, but she had learned not to trust her senses.

“Are you…real?” Her voice sounded hoarse and weak even in the gloomy silence.

What is…real? the raven looked at her and spread its wings before folding them again. I am. The two statements were confusing in Rachel’s mind, like they were not connected. One thing had nothing to do with the other.

“Who are you?” she asked. “If you say ‘Nevermore’ I swear to God I will scream.”

“Caw! caw!” The raven jumped up and flew in a circle around the room. As it circled the room, the shadows trailed behind it, a swirling darkness that made Rachel feel like the room was spinning. Her empty stomach heaved as dizziness assaulted her senses. She shut her eyes against the nausea and cried out for it to stop. The spinning sensation stopped just as suddenly as it had begun, and she opened her eyes. The whole room was distorted shades of swirling monochrome black and white, with the raven suspended midflight as if frozen in time.

“Hell is empty and all the devils are here…” Rachel quoted as tears streamed down her face. “What is happening to me?” she sobbed. Fast as a lightning strike, the raven flew at her face and tangled its talons in her hair. She screamed as it dipped its beak into the spot on her neck where a needle had been stuck into her, over and over again. The raven’s black wing covered her face and she slipped into the darkness, again.

(To be continued)

On a lonely forgotten road, there sits a house beside an old eucalyptus tree. The whitewash has long since faded and flaked off the dry and splintered wooden planks. Crows gather about the building, perching in the broken window frames of the second floor, or on the banister of the dilapidated porch. Their caws punctuate the silence. The wind that brings the crispness of the snow capped mountains on the horizon mingle with the scent of dust. The barren field that surrounds the house still has a memory of daisies and dandelions.

Dust motes hang lazily in streams of morning sunlight through the broken doorway. The hazy light in the foyer turns the shadows into endless depths. The darkness echoes with the sound of laughter from voices lost in time. Voices that resonated with hope. Their dreams still linger in the soil, whispered memories in the arid wind that howls through the attic, and fills the silence with the same sort of depth one feels standing on the edge of a great precipice.

But who are you, watcher? You that stand in this place without a body, and see these things without eyes, where do you feel the power that lingers so heavily on this land? Ephemeral and intangible being, it is you that fills this void, and it is your longing that pulls the wind across the valley. It is your sorrow that decays the house, and your love that bathes it in light. And when your joy returns, Spring will be your smile.

Mazecrafted 2014©