Solstice looked around the clearing. At the trees. At the grass. At Malice.
Nothing happened.
She’d expected… something.
A welcome means something happens, right?
Like when the fathers came inside and said “we’re home!” and then we gathered for pets and food and—
This was just standing.
Malice maintained her stance. Calm. Watching. Expecting.
Solstice shifted her weight. “So… what happens now?”
“What do you mean?”
“You said ‘Welcome to the Nowhere.’ So… what comes next? Is there a—a thing? A place? Do I get—” She paused, trying to find a word. “—a… a spot? Like my cube?”
Malice’s expression didn’t change.
“Or is this it? Just… here? Because it’s very empty. Not that empty is bad! I mean, the fathers said I needed alone time sometimes because of my big feelings, but this seems like a LOT of alone time, and I don’t know if that’s—”
THWAP.
Malice’s tail struck the ground. Sharp. Deliberate.
Solstice’s words faltered. “—what I mean is—”
“You are very vocal.”
“I just want to understand! And I’m trying to figure out what Nowhere means, and if there’s food here, because the toad was tasty, but this grass isn’t real grass. I tried to eat some earlier, and it tasted like poo paper—and I don’t know if I need to find food or if food just appears or if—”
THWAP.
The tail hit harder this time.
“—or maybe there’s a schedule? The fathers had a schedule. Breakfast at eight-thirty, dinner at dark eight-thirty, and I always knew when it was time because my stomach would tell me, but here I don’t know what time it is—”
THWAP. THWAP.
“—or if it’s passing normally or if it’s different because you said you’ve been here a long time but you didn’t say how long and I don’t know if—”
Malice turned and walked away.
Just… walked.
Into the darkness.
Solstice stood there, mouth still open mid-sentence.
“Wait—where are you going?”
No reply. Just the sound of paws scraping ground, getting fainter.
“I wasn’t done talking!”
Still nothing.
Solstice scrambled after her. “Malice? MALICE?”
She caught up, trotting alongside. Her injured paw still ached, but she ignored it.
They passed a tree, and Solstice flinched, half-expecting that glowing head to reappear inside the trunk again. Her fur started to rise—
But nothing happened. Just a tree. Just bark.
She glanced over as Malice walked ahead of her.
Oh. Right. That scary thing in the tree… that WAS her.
The realization made something click.
“Hey, how did you do that earlier?” The words burst out. “The face thing. You were everywhere—in the trees, then in the grass, and I jumped over you. And that time, you were a falling leaf, and I caught it in the air and chewed it all up. But then, when I went to swallow, it was gone, just gone. So, was it real? It had to be real because I bit it, but—”
Malice stopped walking. “Do not bite her tongue off,” she muttered under her breath. Then, they continued forward.
“Maybe it was like a reflection? Like when I see myself in water but I’m not IN the water? No, that doesn’t make sense because reflections don’t fall from trees.”
A low growl rumbled from Malice’s throat. “Do not press her face into the quag until the bubbles stop.”
“Unless… you make things? Can you make leaves that have your face? Or—oh! Were you INSIDE the leaf? Like hiding? But you’re too big to fit in a leaf, so maybe you can get smaller? Can you do that? Make yourself tiny?”
Malice’s claws dug into the ground. “Do not drape her entrails from the branches like festive streamers.”
“Or maybe—maybe it’s like when I’m in the cube and the fathers can see me through the mesh but I can see out too, so maybe the leaf was like mesh and you were looking through it but then why did it disappear when I ate it. It just vanished. Where did it go? Did it go back to you? Can things go back?”
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Malice stopped walking entirely.
“Or maybe it wasn’t real to start with and biting it made it stop being not-real which means it became real which means—”
Malice raised a paw.
Solstice didn’t notice.
“Wait, that doesn’t make sense either because—”
“FRAYING.”
The single word cut through Solstice’s rambling.
She stopped. Blinked. “What?”
“That is what I was doing.” Malice’s voice was tight. Exasperated. “When I appeared in the trees. In the grass. In your path. It is called Fraying.”
Silence stretched between them.
Solstice’s ears swiveled forward. “Can you teach me?”
Malice’s tail twitched once. Twice.
She exhaled slowly, deliberately. “Perhaps.”
And they changed directions.
Solstice followed, questions already building in her throat, but something in Malice’s posture kept her quiet.
They walked.
As the trees thinned ahead, Solstice could make out something in the clearing. A puddle—perfectly still, perfectly circular, like someone had carved a bowl into the ground and filled it with water.
Malice stopped beside it.
“Here.”
Solstice approached the puddle cautiously. Sniffed the edge.
It smelled like nothing. Not mud, not rain, not any water she’d known. Just… scentless.
“What is it?”
“Water that is not water.” Malice settled beside it. Loafed. Paws tucked under, tail wrapped around. “These puddles have been here since I arrived. Never dry. Never freeze. Simply… remains. Any of them work.”
Solstice circled it slowly. Stopped on the opposite side from Malice. With the dim yellow glow, she could barely make out her own reflection. The suggestion of stripes. The M-marking on her forehead.
“What am I supposed to do with it?”
“Watch.”
Malice stared at the puddle, unblinking, with that thousand-yard cat focus.
The puddle’s surface rippled.
An image formed.
Two cats in a clearing. One loafed and the other stood, staring down.
Solstice blinked.
That’s us.
But the angle was wrong. She was seeing both of them from the side. From somewhere else.
She lifted her paw experimentally.
The standing cat in the puddle lifted its paw.
She looked at Malice.
“That’s us. But—” She looked around the clearing, trying to figure out where the view was coming from. “Where is it watching from?”
Her eyes scanned the trees. The shadows. The darkness.
There!
On a nearby tree trunk was a faint shimmer. Like heat waves, but wrong. A distortion in the bark itself.
Malice lowered her head to the puddle. Slowly. Deliberately.
Her face touched the water’s surface—and kept going. Not breaking through. Not getting wet. Just sinking into it. As if the water were accepting her in.
Her body remained in the loaf position, perfectly still. Only her head was submerged.
The shimmer on the tree intensified.
A face appeared inside the trunk.
Malice’s face. Glowing from within. The bark had gone translucent—like murky glass—revealing the glow suspended inside. Her yellow eyes tracked Solstice.
“Oh!”
Solstice ran to the tree. Stopped right in front of it. Nose almost touching where the face watched her.
She reached up with one paw. Touched the tree.
Solid. The bark was still there, still rough under her paw, but she could see through it to the glowing face inside.
The face turned. Rotated. Solstice caught a glimpse of the back of Malice’s head as it moved through the interior of the trunk. The bark remained translucent wherever the glow lingered, then returned to its normal black opacity as it floated away.
Solstice scrambled around the tree, following.
The face rotated to the other side. Kept moving.
Solstice chased it. Her limp forgotten. Her clicking rib irrelevant. Just following that glow as it led her around the tree over and over again.
The face watched her the whole time. Studying her.
Then it vanished and reappeared in the grass below her.
Solstice stopped. Looked down.
Malice’s face glowed up at her from within the not-grass itself. The blades had gone translucent around it. They started moving, sliding across the ground.
And then began to shrink.
The features compressed. Condensed. Until only the glowing eyes remained.
They darted away together.
Solstice’s pupils dilated, and she gave chase.
Those eyes moved faster. Figure-eights through the grass. Always just out of reach. Always just fast enough to keep her engaged.
All four paws churning. Her tail lashing. Every hunting instinct she had was on full display.
The tiny eyes led her in circles. In spirals. Playing with her.
Then they stopped.
And Solstice stopped.
She sat perfectly still in the grass.
Crouched. Body coiled. Ready.
The eyes blinked once.
And she released, pouncing at them.
The eyes vanished.
She landed face-first in the grass. Rolled. Came up panting.
A sound echoed from the direction of the puddle.
Rumbling. Deep. Like something broken trying to work. Not smooth—stuttering, uneven, like an engine misfiring. But there was something almost… pleased in it.
Solstice scrambled back to the puddle. Malice had lifted her head out of the puddle. Her face was still completely dry, as if the water had never touched her.
The rumbling continued. Coming from her chest.
Malice slowly blinked at Solstice with those same yellow eyes that had tormented her earlier.
Her expression was different. Not the predatory calculation. Something softer. Almost… content.
“You chase well,” she said quietly.
Solstice shook herself. Her chest clicked with the motion. Her injured paw throbbed.
But something in her own chest felt lighter.
She’d just been chasing. Playing.
“That was fraying?” Solstice asked, still catching her breath.
“Yes.” Malice turned back to the puddle. “Projecting your presence while remaining stationary.”
“Can you see other places too? Not just… yourself in things?”
Malice’s ear flicked. “Not with Fraying. That is restricted to the Nowhere.” A pause. “But yes. Through other means. Though that requires… different preparations.”
She stared at the puddle again with that same intense focus.
The surface rippled once more.
An image formed—clearer this time.
A room. Bright. Warm. With actual color—brown wood floors, cream-colored walls, golden hay scattered everywhere. In the center stood a massive wooden wheel. Inside it, hamsters ran. Dozens of them, tiny paws pattering against the wood, their little bodies working in synchronized rhythm. The wheel turned, connected to gears and pulleys, grinding grain between two enormous stones below.
One hamster paused to wipe its face. Another took its place without missing a beat.
“Oh.” Solstice leaned closer. “Where is that?”
The image vanished as Malice broke her focus.
“Elsewhere. Beyond the Nowhere.”
“The hamsters are WORKING?”
“Everything functions differently beyond the grey.” Malice stood. “Now. Your turn.”
“But I do not know how—”
“Direct your focus through your eyes. The puddle responds to a particular intensity of gaze.” Malice’s tail swished once. “When you achieve it, the connection forms. Later, when competent, submerging grants greater control. Movement. Interaction.”
Solstice blinked.
Aren’t I already looking with my eyes?“How do I—”
“Figure it out or perish.” Malice turned and started walking away. Slow. Deliberate. “I did, so can you.”
“But what if I—what if something—”
“Nothing will bother you here. This is my territory.” Her voice held absolute certainty.
“Wait—where are you going?”
Malice stopped at the edge of the clearing. Turned her head just enough to look back at Solstice with one yellow eye.
“Away. You need to do this alone. I cannot see for you.”
Then she continued walking into the darkness.
I am seeking feedback. Please take a moment to answer the following questions, or share anything else you'd like. Thank you.
- Did Solstice's nonstop talking feel authentic (a trauma response/anxiety spiral) or did it start to grate on you as a reader?
- When you realized Malice was the face chasing Solstice—did that click feel satisfying ("ohhh, that makes sense") or confusing ("wait, so she was trying to kill her or help her?")?
- After finishing this chapter, what's the #1 thing you're curious about for Chapter 5?