Chapter 55: Probably the Worst Night

What was expected to be a peaceful night’s sleep was short-lived for Liam. He found himself standing upright in his room, though something felt distinctly wrong. The familiar surroundings seemed real enough, but in truth, he was dreaming, though he didn’t yet realize it.

An inexplicable compulsion drew him from his bed and toward the door, and without understanding why, Liam opened his bedroom door and stepped into short hallway and eventually descended the stairs, before making his way to the kitchen.

He reached for the refrigerator’s handle and the moment the fridge’s door swung open, casting its light across the kitchen tiles, a piercing scream shattered the silence from somewhere upstairs. “Yaela,” he whispered, recognizing his sister’s voice immediately.

Without bothering to close the refrigerator door, Liam bolted back upstairs, taking the steps three at a time as he burst into Yaela’s room, only to find it empty. The bed was undisturbed and the window closed but there was no sign of her anywhere.

“Yaela?” he called out, with his voice echoing in the vacant space. Before he could process her absence, another scream erupted, but this time from downstairs. It was his sister’s voice again; “Yaela!” Liam shouted, racing back down the stairs toward the source of the cry.

He found the front door of their apartment standing wide open, and without hesitation, he sprinted toward the opening, calling his sister’s name into the night. However, the moment his foot crossed the doorframe, the world dropped away beneath him.

Liam plummeted through an endless, suffocating void, his arms and legs flailing helplessly as he tried to grasp something, anything, to stop his fall. The darkness was absolute, swallowing even his screams as he tumbled through the abyss.

Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the fall ended, with Liam crashing onto cold marble floors in what appeared to be the grand hall of an ancient palace.

…

In the real world, Yaela moved through their apartment, and head towards the door. Her glowed violet, but her face remained completely blank, devoid of any expression or conscious thought. It was evident that she was no longer in control of her own body. Violet energy began to emanate from her skin as she stepped outside into the night. Her feet left the ground without effort, and she floated upwards.

A figure in flowing grey robes maintained flight above their apartment building. This was Ophix, the Black Witch, who extended one pale hand toward the rising girl. Beside the witch materialized a golden cage that pulsed with the same violet energy now surrounding Yaela.

Though designed like a birdcage, it was large enough to imprison three grown humans as Yaela’s unconscious form drifted directly into the waiting prison. With a casual snap of Ophix’s fingers, the cage door slammed shut with a resonant clang and after another snap, both cage and captive vanished from sight.

…

Back in his nightmare, Liam pushed himself up from the marble floor, his mind reeling from the impossible transition. “What the hell is this?” he muttered, taking in his surroundings. The hall stretched endlessly in both directions, supported by towering white columns carved with intricate designs.

“Welcome, Liam Velmont.” The voice that answered him was a contradiction—eerie yet feminine. It echoed from the far end of the hall, where the shadows gathered thickest. Liam froze, then slowly turned toward the source of the greeting.

On a throne of black stone sat a figure draped in flowing dark robes. A distinctive spiked crown rested atop her head, and a veil of impenetrable darkness covered her face and eyes, making it impossible to discern her features.

“Who are you?” Liam demanded, though his voice carried less authority than he’d intended. The figure said nothing. Instead, she raised one finger and snapped, and then this invisible force seized Liam like a giant’s fist, yanking him across the marble floor toward the throne. He tried to resist, reaching desperately for his powers, but found nothing, no lightning, no super speed or strength

He flew through the air like a discarded piece of paper, completely helpless, and then the same unseen force slammed him to his knees before the throne with enough impact to make his teeth rattle.

When he tried to speak, or move or even breathe properly, it felt as though the veins in his face might burst from the supernatural pressure constraining him. The dark figure then leaned forward slightly, as she extended one finger and lifted Liam’s chin, forcing him to meet her veiled gaze directly. Though they were face to face, the darkness of her veil was so complete that he could see nothing beneath it.

“Liam Velmont,” she spoke in that same eerily sweet tone, “did you think you could hide from us?” “W-who are y-you?” Liam managed to gasp through the crushing force holding him.

The figure’s response was laughter, a sound that started soft and feminine but quickly transformed into something maniacal and terrible, as her mouth opened wide, revealing rows of needle-sharp teeth.

“This world is no longer a place for you, Velmont,” she declared, settling back into her throne. “It will only get worse from here. Your sister has been taken from you and no one you care about will ever be safe.”

The words hit Liam like physical blows. His eyes widened in horror as he remembered why he’d been running through his apartment in the first place, Yaela’s screams.

“Where’s Yaela?!” he shouted, finding his voice despite the magical restraints. The dark figure’s laughter echoed through the hall once more and with a casual wave of her hand, the same invisible force that had drawn him forward now reversed, creating a powerful suction that dragged him backward through the palace. “Where is she?!” Liam screamed as he was pulled into the darkness once again.

Liam’s eyes snapped open in his own bed, his body drenched in cold sweat. For a moment, he lay still, his gaze darting frantically around his familiar room. Everything appeared normal, his desk, his laundry basket and the moonlight streaming through his window.

It had been a dream, but even as his rational mind tried to dismiss what he’d experienced, every instinct screamed that it had been more than just a nightmare. The memory of that voice, those terrible teeth, the crushing certainty of the figure’s threats—it all felt too real.

“Yaela,” he whispered, then sprung into action. Liam threw off his covers and sprinted from his room, towards hers. He didn’t bother knocking as he threw open his sister’s bedroom door to find that the bed was empty still.

“No,” he breathed. The word came out as barely a whisper, but it was followed by others in rapid succession— “No, no, no, no, no.” Liam raced downstairs, praying he would find Yaela in the kitchen or living room, maybe getting a late-night snack or unable to sleep. But the lower floor was as empty as her bedroom had been.

Except for one detail that made his blood turn to ice: the front door stood wide open, exactly as it had in his dream. He then ran outside into the quiet night and a neighborhood that slept peacefully, porch lights glowing softly, windows dark, and not a soul stirring.

The normalcy of it all made the situation feel even more surreal and terrifying. “Fuck!” Liam roared as silvery-blue lightning began to course through his body, with panic and rage took hold of him.

His powers that felt suppressed in his nightmare, now responded and in seconds, he became a streak of electrical energy racing through the neighborhood, searching every street, every nook and every cranny, and every alley where his sister might be hidden.

He moved through the suburban streets, then into the city proper, checking every corner and crevice. His supernatural speed allowed him to cover miles in minutes, but everywhere he looked yielded the same result: nothing.

Finally, his frantic search brought him to a stop in the middle of an empty road on the outskirts of town. The asphalt stretched endlessly in both directions, and the terrible reality crashed over him, Yaela was gone.

His knees hit the pavement hard as the lightning faded from his body. The sound that tore from his throat was part roar and part sob and it echoed across the empty space. “Noooooo!”

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