“5, 4, 3…you better hurry…2…nothing to regret now…”

  Darkness was everywhere. Panic about to reach its peak, making it hard to breathe. There was no way out.

  Light. Yes, there was light at last. Two bright orbs of light were floating in the distance, getting closer by the minute.

  Strange. There was no cat in this room before, so how come there were two glowing eyeballs staring at me now. Then, they collided into one. A hallucination at times of stress? Was this the famous light leading you into the afterlife?

  “One.” All too familiar voice, urging me to kick that chair from under me. And so I did, my survival instinct immediately took over. I tried to save myself. There was still a silver of hope.

  Death felt like the only solution to this misery just a few seconds ago and now… Now there was nothing, but regret for not even trying.

  “Don’t worry,” it was the same voice, “this will be over soon.”

  A massive emerald eye was the last of my memory before everything went dark.

  *

  “I am in a mood for some Mc Donald’s today,” she exclaimed the moment she raised her arm into the air. She dropped that arm down immediately after. It was taking too much effort on her part. Being too lazy to lift her entire body, she remained lying on the sofa. Laziness was her middle name. No doubt about it, if it wasn’t for others staying with her in this room, she wouldn’t even put on this white cotton cloth, wrapped around her body.

  Her makeshift outfit was very clumsy, barely covering anything. Not that she was bothered by it in any way. She would even go outside dressed like this as there was something oddly flattering about this outfit. Its simplicity further accentuated her lean body, with white color contrasting tan skin. As she turned on her left side, an extremely detailed tattoo of the dragon came into view. Its head was leaning on top of her ribs and tail was wrapped around her right leg, reaching all the way down to her calf. This dragon wasn’t just a product of her whim, it served as a bandaid of a sort. It covered the scars and burn marks left from her past.

  Too bad, she was unable to cover the rotting half of her face with such an artwork. But it was a reminder. Reminder to never fully give her heart.

  As for the other two in this room. There was the youngest, slouching next to the coffee table, eating a pomegranate. And the eldest, as usual, spinning her thread next to the window.

  The stoic, hardworking one was dressed in tunic, reaching all the way down to the floor. She was so pedantic, one wouldn’t be able to find a single wrinkle on her dress. In contrast, the hamster like youngest was like a fairy in her cottage core dress with her adorable freckles and flowers intertwined within her ginger hair. By no means was this on purpose, but today those three sisters ended up wearing the same color of pure white. A rare occurrence. Besides their blood and same grey colored eyes, there was barely anything alike among the three.

  Well, presently, there was one more commonality between the oldest and the youngest. Neither of them was paying attention to their rebellious middle sister’s words.

  Disregarding it all, Hel continued, “I can’t be the one to ask mom.” She closed her eyes and pondered. Looking like a corpse ready for its last goodbye with loved ones, she laid motionless in the sofa with her arm crossed. “We need a plan,” she mumbled to herself.

  Out of nowhere, Hel shouted "Yep" as she sat up, startling Persephone, the youngest, in the process. This youngster, if you can even call somebody born over 2 millennia ago that, ended up dropping the pomegranate in her hands down to the ground.

  “Careful Seph,” the oldest of the three advised, seeing the clumsy Persephone attempting to clean up the mess she made. While shifting her gaze to Hel away from the arils spread out on the green carpet, she picked up the scissors from the glass top of the coffee table, in the meantime. With scissors in her hands, Dolya turned around and headed back.

  “That is where the two of you come in,” Hel gestured to her sisters.

  “Excuse me?” Dolya questioned. Halting her attempt to cut and unravel a piece of thread out of one of her latest tapestries.

  Ignoring her twin’s question, Hel stood up and walked toward the youngest, who was bending under the table in search of the remaining parts of her afternoon meal.

  “Persephone,” Hel said.

  “Thud,” poor youngest hit her head against the table while attempting to stand up replying, “yeah,” she rubbed her head.

  “you may be the dumbest, but mom likes you the most.” Hel chose not to use her sister’s nickname, which was always a sign Persephone was about to get used. The subject in question, however, didn’t even notice this minor detail, nodding in agreement even.

  Dolya clicked her tongue as she dropped to the floor, placing her elbows on the table, using her wrist to support her head. She looked intimidating, with her piercing gaze and scissors still in her hand. This blondy was the one to hold a grudge forever.

  Hel knew that too. Seeing Dolya spin those scissors in the air by their handle was a direct warning to Hel. However, now was not the time to poke at that bee hive. Plus, Hel was hungry. In her mind, mealtime was the universal ceasefire.

  “Dolya I don’t understand how you got the best brain,” Hel was doing her best flattering her twin, “AND got the best looks in our family.”

  It would have been a lie to say that those compliments didn’t make Dolya happy. She caught the scissors mid-flip, haltering their motion. With her other hand, she began to twist the long golden hair falling down her exposed shoulder, a sign of Dolya being ready to listen.

  Hel looked straight into the eyes, mirroring her own. She was calculative enough to sit down on the floor beside the table to be on the same eye level with her elder twin.

  “Bbbbbut,” she put quite the emphasis on that one, “you still can’t get a boyfriend.” Knowing she couldn’t effort to give her sister enough time to say even a single word, without even taking another breath Hel said, “I can help you.”

  “When did this become a roast session?” Her voice was calm yet she obviously wasn’t happy about that “but”.

  “Hey, you know me,” Hel scooted closer to Dolya putting her hand on Dolya’s shoulder, hugging her. “I deliver,” Hel proudly noted as she moved her face closer to Dolya’s.

  Being the dignified lady she was, Dolya gracefully pulled Hel’s arm away from her shoulder. Her expression was stoic, but inside she was steaming with disgust. She hated being touched without her permission. But, she didn’t have complains regarding the deal. Also the terms seemed profitable to her.

  “If you help me find a boyfriend I will think about it alright,” she said.

  That was the greatest form of absolute agreement one could ever get out of Dolya.

  “Oh,” she added before she could fully stand up. “If you mess this up for me I will…” Dolya didn’t say a word more, instead she focused on Hel’s eyes, not blinking even once. Behind her, threads attached to needles raised into the air. The atmosphere was getting more heated by the second. The phrase “looks could kill” was by no means an exaggeration. Persephone was especially sensitive to such changes in mood. She easily picked up the hostility exuded by twins glaring at each other across the table. Siting on the carpet next to the same coffee table, she remained quiet, keeping her head down as she was shifting her eyes between the two, unsure of what to do.

  “Yeah, yeah.” Hel was the first to speak.

  Hearing Hel’s response, Dolya broke her eye contact. The threads returned to their previous positions as well and Persephone could breath out in relief.

  “Great!” Hel jumped up and yelled, feeling happy, “looks like we are having Big Macs tonight.”

  Persephone started to clap. Meanwhile, Dolya stood up, turned and proceeded to walk passed the myriad of tapestries hanging on the wall, before she stopped. It was her latest, a depiction of a woman surrounded by snow. Lifting the pairs of scissors in her hand she called out to Hel, "Make sure you remember to pick up and sort that soul."

  “Ahh,” Hel sighed. “It’s not dead yet.”

  “Is now.” Dolya made a small cut in that portrait and pulled out a part of that thin, gray thread.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Hel dropped her head back as a sign of annoyance. “I hate those.”

  Persephone joined in too, “Isn’t it sad how that soul didn’t live the full life given?” She was genuinely grieving for that young soul.

  “Don’t wo…” Dolya was about to console little Seph, but Hel was louder.

  “Trust me,” Hel put both her arms up to stretch, “those suicidal ones ARE THE WORST.”

  She breathed out and bent forward, touching her toes, “they whine too much.”

  *

  “Clack!” With a flick of a finger, light switch was moved upward, illuminating the clatter within this room with dim glow of incandescent lightbulb. Past the dirty clothes, skillfully avoiding the pyramid of empty energy drink cans, the dark pair of Dr.Martens made their way.

  Those boots, like their owner, gave out a defiant and nonconforming feel. Further accentuated by dark pair of fuzzy pants made to be tight fitting by black tourniquet like straps, chaotically wrapped around the calves all the way down to ankles. This getup screamed readiness for action. Still, cargo pants weren’t the focal point of the outfit, a rich in color turquoise pirate coat was. It looked great in tandem with black, making it impossible to break eye contact from. That is if one were to completely ignore the face.

  The coat was a necessity. It was chillingly cold here. A fully opened window was the culprit, but this being a ground floor room also didn’t help.

  The basement-like room was at most twenty square meters and somehow it was able to fit a kitchen, bedroom and a bathroom. It wasn’t pretty, but certainly compact. Lack of space wasn’t the key problem. With all its negatives, the unbearable stench had to be the worst. First, there was the putrid smell of food in various stages of decomposition. Second, the musty smell of dirty clothes mixed with nauseating reek of sweat. Third…

  Room wasn’t just dirty, it was dump. Just a small sniff of this room was a guarantee of mold infection. There were way too many mold spores in the air and an open window just wasn’t enough. That incoming air wasn’t that refreshing either. It in had an overwhelming smell of hydrogen sulfide and ammonia made stronger due to proximity of newly placed compost. With sole window being so close to the ground, some of that dirt would inadvertently get swept into the room by passing wind, further exacerbating the smell.

  The concoction of all those smells was so foul, it was impossible to stand here without a single frown or sign of disgust. However, this uninvited guest remained unbothered. Even the fresh smell of urine and fecal matter, permeating within this room, didn’t induce as much as a hint of emotion. No matter how you look at it, this stranger didn’t belong here.

  Gender ambiguous, purpose unknown. Only one thing was certain. This guest was up to no good. The flickering light further added to the eerie atmosphere, giving a sense of dread to this angelic, childlike face with inhumanly perfect symmetry. A rare mix of sharp, well-defined jawline and soft feel of plump cheeks. Those cheeks looked very squishy, but one look into those almond-shaped eyes told you otherwise. Inner epicanthal fold and a slight upward tilt at the outer corners those eyes, made sharper by light makeup, would draw you in with just one look, but those were the eyes of a predator.

  Large monolid eyes, not just the way they looked, but also what those eyes were looking at was disturbing. The far corner of the room was reflected in them. There it hang, on a sole hook screwed into the ceiling. An unusual architectural choice, but with one morbid utility for those of turbulent mind.

  The voice. That stranger’s voice was pleasant, not so much the contents of said speech.

  “Is he dead?” was said in the most mellowest of tones. There was another stranger in this room.

  “He is now.” She was certain of it. This human was dead as she could no longer smell any fear from him.

  The green tint of her skin was slowly dissipating, being replaced by beige with warm undertones.“His last moment was so delicious,” she said. Despair, hopelessness, hints of melancholy and fear. Such was the taste of her recent meal. This meal, however, was a bit lacking. It was subpar in comparison of what’s to come. If one were to provide analogy to human food, this one just didn’t have enough spice in it. The dish was undercooked as well. It was too bland. She needed just a bit more pain and internal anguish, only then could it be called a true gourmet meal.

  In reality, this recent meal, was but a lonely soul. He was young, just twenty five, in fact. He had a future, he had dreams and goals. When did all of this go wrong? He had a choice. He had so many opportunities to fix things. It wasn’t life that was against him. He had great luck. He was surrounded by people ready to help. Why didn’t he ask for help? Was he too embarrassed to admit his failure? No, he was too much of a coward to face the stares of disappointment from those who cared so much for him. He didn’t want to be a burden.

  “You have so much potential,” he was told, “if only you just apply yourself.” Yeah, right. He tried. He really tried not to give up. With optimism in his eyes, he tried and tried again and again. But in the end. He failed and chose to run away. He chose to hide. So now. He truly disappeared.

  What was once his soul, glimmered, reflecting the light with each subtle turn in Licho’s hands. She was back to her human disguise. She didn’t kill him. She didn’t touch a single hair on his head. He did everything on his own. It was his own choice.

  What was so bad about giving those wretched and miserable souls a way out? All she did was guide their way, she was freeing them. She never saw herself as evil. It was a fair transaction in her mind. Those humans got to die like they wanted and she received a minuscule reward in return, the essence of their soul. There might have been some suffering involved and Licho did enjoy intensifying those emotions. However, it wasn’t like she planted those into her prey. Only humans were capable of creating their own hell. She, on the other hand, just helped provide the proper environment for those seeds to sprout and grow.

  Shoot, the light flickered again. Right at the interesting part too. When light turned back on I saw a body hanging on a hook, a body that was but a shell of what he once was. Red tie around the neck was holding his body suspended in the air. Red, a color ironically a symbol of luck in his culture, was the color of his killer, staining his lips with blue.

  Meaningless and sad ending. To Licho, he was just an appetizer before her main course. His suffering, as painful as it was, was not enough for her. The jewel from his soul wasn’t that valuable either. It was mid grade at best.

  “Ups,” she dropped the green gemstone on the ground. Green was her favorite, but this gemstone wasn’t the rare emerald she was after. Nope. This peridot was a disposable trinket to her.

  “His all yours now, Kai,” she said.

  “I will take you up on that offer then.” The previously cold beauty finally showed an emotion. It was a smile. An eerie feeling intensified. Slowly this stranger called Kai was getting closer to the lifeless body. Plump lips continued curling upwards. Soon this was no longer a smile, it was a sinister grin, stretched unnaturally across the face. Then..

  “Gulp” The flickering light finally went out. With no light, it was easy to focus on the sound, which considering previous events was more than just disturbing. Sounds of chewing were overwhelming with occasional snapping.

  The body was no more. There were no traces of its existence left behind.

  He…she…no, the gender of this monster was irrelevant. What mattered was: this one had no qualms about killing a human, particularly those of the male species. No wonder this monster was marked by Hel. Gifted with eyes of Basilisk, Kai was dangerous, way more so than Licho, who was occupied with shuffling through the satchel, its long strap hanging diagonally across her body. Those intruders like Hel were both beings from the world below, so little darkest wasn’t an issue, they saw everything as clear as day. Unlike me. I could still hear everything, but my vision was limited.

  “Aha,” Licho exclaimed and pulled her hand out of the bag.

  All I saw were mere shadows; however, thanks to the sunrise and small bits of light getting into this excuse of an apartment, in her hand I saw a small jewelry casket hand-carved out of walnut wood. Yggdrasil, the mythical tree of life, decorated the lid, its roots reached downward, forming a convoluted mechanical puzzle of a lock. A lock, which easily opened in Licho’s hand, hid the seemingly infinite space within. This was her treasure trove. The place to put her trophy from the hunt.

  “I am ready for the main meal now,” she said and put the small peridot inside before locking the box again.

  Main meal? Was she talking about me? Now that I was thinking about this. How was it that they didn’t see me?

  “Ahhr,” I screamed.

  “Hey!” replied a sleepy raven, jolted from his sweet dreams.

  I was laying in my bed, looking at the ceiling of my room.

  What just happened? Did I have a nightmare? Turning sideways, I reached for my phone. 5:45. It was morning, earlier than I would have liked, but sun was already up. I should have gotten up. I should have. Did I? Nope. Instead I turned onto my back and closed my eyes, putting the wrist of my right arm on my forehead. I felt like I was forgetting something again. What did I dream of again? I can’t remember…aaahh…it probably wasn’t that important. I had a lot to do today. That can wait. At least, 20 more minutes.

  “EEEUUUAAAAHHHHHHH-AAAAAAHHHH,” I stretched as I yawned before drifting into slumber.

  *

  “In the depths of despair, a soul once dwelled,

  Where negative emotions weaved and swelled.

  A symphony of sorrow, a melancholic strain,

  A dance of darkness that drove them insane.

  With each beat of their heart, a rhythm forlorn,

  Echoing through veins, where hope was torn.

  A somber melody, haunting and deep,

  Engulfed their spirit, a secret they'd keep.

  They walked through life with heavy steps,

  A weight upon their chest, burdening breaths.

  In every sunrise, they saw only the night,

  Lost in the shadows, devoid of light.

  Their days became echoes of silent screams,

  Aching within, shattering hopeful dreams.

  Isolated they stood, a solitary figure,

  Locked in a cage, their spirit growing meager.”

  The candle light flickered.

  “Steph, dear,” he said, “ it’s getting late, you should go to bed.”

  “Just give me a few more minutes,” she said, not even breaking eye contact from the manuscript. Dipping her glass pen into ink, she continued.

  “In the depths of despair, where darkness resides,

  A story unfolds, where truth coincides.

  For we are the architects, of our own dire plight,

  Crafting our own misery, in the depths of the night.

  With each choice made, the foundation laid,

  We mold the bars that keep us enslaved.

  In our hearts and minds, the demons reside,

  Creating a labyrinth, where hope seems to hide.

  Yet, let not despair be our eternal guide,

  For in this story, a truth does confide.

  For we hold the power, within our very soul,

  To break the chains, and regain control.

  In every thought and action, the seeds we sow,

  Determining our path, as time does flow.

  The flames of torment, we ignite within,

  But also possess the spark, to let redemption begin.

  Though darkness may tempt,

  We possess t”

  “Ahr,” the ink has run out. Persephone opened the bottom drawer under the table. There was another bottle of black ink there. Once again, dipping her pen into ink, she continued to write.

  “the strength, to alter our own fate.

  For we are the authors, of our own fate's decree,

  With the power to shape, and set our souls free.

  Let this tale's message resound and be,

  The key to liberation lies within you and me.

  Embrace the flames of change, let them burn bright,

  As we rewrite our story, in the depths of the night.

  With courage as our guide, we reclaim our core,

  Transcending the hell we've created before.

  For we are the ones who can break the spell,

  Unravel the chains that bind us so well.

  In this tale, let the message ring,

  That we hold the power to change everything.

  So let us forge a path, towards the light,

  Embracing the hope that shines through the night.”