A Muse's Tale

Posted by Timi / at 9:57 PM / / 0 comments

An FWA Story by Ramon Chiratheep and Parwez Aullymun

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Above on some cloud high in the sky, an ethereal being was watching a desk buried with papers on another distant shore. The papers hadn't moved for what seemed like years. Suddenly, one of those papers seemed to twitch. The ethereal being gave a sigh of relief and quickly used her x-ray vision to assess the situation. What she saw made the relief that she had just felt moments before fade, fast. Something was very wrong.

Underneath the pile of papers sat a human being, transfixed at the letters before her. Those letters were meant to make up her novel. Sadly, they did not. Instead of a novel, they resembled a bunch of unreadable squiggles, filled with corrections in red pen and Tippex. Suddenly, the human being began to sob, trickles of her tears splashing onto the paper. Her mascara (and her nose) was also beginning to run. It was not a pretty sight.

This ethereal being was in fact a Muse. On most days, she sat behind her author, gave her moral support, got her out of plot holes, stocked her author's shelves with a never ending supply of bacon and oddly-shaped cupcakes – Muses knew that their authors had to eat, but hadn't quite grasped the concept of healthy eating yet – and, most importantly, warded off Inner Editors, who were sure to strike when the author was at his/her lowest.

The Inner Editors and the Muses had a well-documented war. Whilst Muses liked the flow of ideas and creativity, congratulated you on the smallest idea (no matter how crap they thought it was – they kept their thoughts to themselves), and kept you on task, Inner Editors were, well, the opposite. They did not care about ideas, creativity, or even if the plot made sense. All they were concerned about were grammar, spelling, and beautiful, beautiful prose.

Needless to say, they hated each others' guts.

Cassie, this particular Muse, had chosen the wrong time to go on vacation. However, in her defence, Muses were usually only busy during November, when NaNoWriMo started, and stupid authors attempted to write 50000 words in a month.

It was August when Cassie decided to go on holiday. Her author had been bored and listless for the past month, with no signs of imminent recovery. Cassie's author only wrote in short bursts of 140 characters on social networking websites, and although she had an idea for a story, it seemed like it would be a long time before it actually started to make any sense – Cassie had found that excessive Muse meddling could slow a story down, instead of speeding it up.

Cassie decided to use this to her advantage, and take a well-earned (albeit illegal) break. “After all, at this stage, her author wouldn't even notice she had gone!”, she had reasoned with herself. “And sure, she'll have to feed herself for a week, but she'll manage...”

But what Cassie didn't count on was her author being struck by a rare form of inspiration in her absence.

...Which was when the Inner Editors decided to strike.

Cassie had to return to her author immediately. Shoving all the tacky souvenirs she had accumulated into her bottomless Mary Poppins bag, she began to make her journey down towards her author's neighbourhood... Forgetting one minor detail. She wasn't permitted to fly until next year.

During her holiday, she had recently had a run-in with the Muse Board of Law Enforcement, and had had her licence revoked for Dangerous Flying.

It also didn't help matters that she'd threatened to taser every person involved in the loss of her licence. In addition to not being able to fly, everyone from the Muse Board of Law Enforcement had filed a restraining order against her.

Cassie soon found herself reluctantly materialising onto a Muse Airlines plane. Cassie hated planes. They were expensive, took longer to reach your destination, and you couldn't throw things at annoying strangers without being kicked off the plane for “antisocial behaviour”.

“Going somewhere, Cassie?” an all too familiar voice whispered in her ear. “A last-minute ticket to, and I quote, 'somewhere on Earth', will be 2500 Marshmallows.”

Frankie possessed the annoying 'gift' of being able to read Cassie's mind.

Cassie had known Frankie ever since she was a little Musette. Although her feelings towards him were usually of exasperation and annoyance, he was the only friend she had ever had. Or possibly the only person that could put up with her.

Cassie grumbled and muttered swearwords under her breath as she rummaged around in her bag for the correct fare. Her stock of Marshmallows, Muse currency, was running dangerously low.

“It's your own fault that you're out of Marshmallows. You did get 'involved' with that Inner Editor last year...” Frankie was suddenly cut off by the heavy object that had made a connection with his head. It fell to the floor with a clunk. “Oi!” he yelled. It was a bloody cheek, throwing a book at a Muse.

“If you don't stop reading my mind, you'll be hanging from this plane by your underpants tomorrow.” Cassie shot him a death glare. In Museland, looks could really kill if you weren't careful.

Blocking the glare, Frankie said under his breath, “Ooh... I think I just hit a nerve...”

“I heard that!” came the sarky reply.

The next day, Cassie was awoken rudely with a kick to her backside. She found herself flying through the air, then landing in a crumpled heap outside her author's house.

“Muse Airlines at your service,” winked Frankie from the stationary plane, not far away from where she lay. “I trust that you had a pleasant flight. For 500 extra Marshmallows, you could have been woken minus the kick.”

Cassie, still half-asleep, glanced up at him and only responded with a gesture that is known universally to every being in existence.

“Fine, be like that.” Frankie grinned, and then the whole Muse Airlines jet disappeared in a peal of black smoke. Coughing, she thought, “That can't be good for the environment.”

She barely had time to think before she was glomped incessantly by someone she only knew too well; a character that she and her author had spent years developing before. As the character was out of the book, this could mean only one thing: this character was dead, and her author was responsible.

“Oh.”, was her only thought, before she slipped into unconsciousness

Cassie woke up to find herself tied in a room that was all in white. The floor, the wall and the roof were all in white. “Am I dead” she started murmuring. Many hours passed, yet nothing was happening. She was agonising. She could not stand it anymore.. she started crawling .. All her powers were dead.. As if a magic button was pressed and nothing was happening. She tried to stand up. Still her feet were too weak. As if she was drugged. She started knocking her head against the floor. Shouting and crying for help. She was begging for her liberty and at least understand what was happening. She gathered some courage, and tried to take some grip from the wall. She finally stood up jumping with both her legs tied she was unable to walk. The most mysterious thing to happen to Cassie in her life.. she started to feel pain. Something she could never possibly ever think about.

Every now and then, a drop of water would drip from the roof.. “Tlik” …’Tlik” that was scaring Cassie off. She was feeling so unsecure for the first time. Tears started rolling down her cheeks. She could no more stand it… that bright light reflecting on the whiteness of that room freaked her out. It was unbearable. She could no more say what time it was. She could not sleep although it seemed that it was since ages that she was in that room. She had absolutely no idea who could be doing such a vile trick on her. She tried to figure out, but nothing was coming to her mind. She was feeling so miserable. Time passed by, god knows how many hours passed, days could be, Cassie started loosing her mind.. Laughter was her only response. “hahaha what a joke hahaha’ were the only words that one could hear. That sweet voice of hers turned out to be the sound of a witch laughing.

Cassie became a living corpse that could be found. Cassie could no more stand up, she could no more move. The door finally opened. The inner editor entered the room. A whip in her hand. With a lot of difficulty, Cassie tried to open her eyes; she saw the red and black dress. She barely had any force. She tried to move. That was the wrong thing... She was whipped. The pain was so hard for that little Musette that she fell unconscious. Who could ever imagine the cruelty of those inner Editors? The inner editors wanted to teach a lesson to the muses and wanted the muses to be like them. It was unacceptable for them to have words with feelings. “Everything is a matter of vocabulary and grammar.” That was the motto of the Inner Editors.

In the meantime, the muses found out that Cassie was missing. The news spread to all over the world. All the muses were worried. It never happened before for a muse to go missing. A day or two was OK, but more than a week was not good at all. The inner editors were very cunning. They did not inform the muses at once what they had done. They started to see the panic in the muse society and the chaos that would happen. All sorts of rumours were spreading about Cassie. Some even figured out that the Plutomartian ally came down to earth to kidnap Cassie and do experiments on her body. The moral of the muses were at its low. Then a Friday, the news finally broke. “Write correctly and write better stories, or else your friend will be killed.” How could they. The whole universe was aware of the enmity between muses and inner editors, but to the point of kidnapping and killing, that was unthinkable.

The whole world could feel the pain that all the muses were having. There were concerts to free Cassie all over the world. Paris, Berlin, Moscow, Port Mathurin and Plaine des papayes even participated in the event. The Inner Editors were not happy at all to see the world sympathizing with the muses. But that was the love the world had towards the muses because they would never have done such a vile thing to the Inner Editors. Worst of all , Cassie’s writer threatened to commit suicide if Cassie was not freed. Frankie was devastated by the news. In the meantime, Cassie was unaware of what was happening outside. All the Inner Editors were telling her that the other muses are asking for Cassie’s death. She could not believe it. “it’s all lies” Cassie yelled. “Let me free”

Nothing could be done. Frankie who had a few friends in the hacking world tried to figure out where the hide out of these inner editors was. After having hacked several hundreds of computers all over the world, they finally seemed to find a common place all the time.. and that’s not too far from Oxford circus in a well guarded secret bunker. So many things went wrong since the last few days in the world. Can you imagine a world with books without any emotion? that’s impossible. Even the banks were having difficulties. Writers who took loans to publish their books could no more Continue to write as the muses were unable to do what they were supposed to do, too terrified since what had happen. The Credit crunch started to take form. Publishers who used to be here since centuries faced financial difficulties and had to close down.

The head of the inner editors wears a red bandana with a black dress. Frankie could no more stand it. He broke into the bunker together with his friend James. James works for the government and is an ardent fan of Cassie. Cassie was terrified down there. The Inner Editors had done so many experiments on her. They even took away all her magical powers and treated her like a laboratory rat. Frankie studied the bunker well with his GPS and decided to use an entrance that the inner editors were not using. He got in, threw the smoke bomb and with his Infra red Vision glasses, he dashed to the room where Cassie was being imprisoned.

He took her on his shoulders and ran through the smoke towards the exit. Meanwhile James was at the back covering the whole operation with his Magum miko star gun made of chocolate and pistachio which was a real poison for the inner editors who consumed only Ravioli and sea urchins as desserts. The Muses’ special forces finally came to the rescue mission. They brought with them 64 doctors and 327 Nurses. They did not want to lose Cassie.

Out of Time

Posted by Timi / at 12:53 AM / / 0 comments

An FWA Story by Harry Wright and Jack Harrison

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One man is walking slowly along a city path, his shadow is cast on every building as he passes every street light. It is the early morning and the road is quiet, as the man walks past an empty car park a sudden wind picks up, litter begins to circle the centre of the car park. A strange blue glow gradually builds up, fading in from nowhere. The man who has passed the car park continues on his way unaware of the strange happenings. Inside the blue glow a metal frame appears shaking violently, the shaking slows and the glow fades away. The frame is the covered in wires and circuit boards, in the centre a young man is sitting in a small chair. Slowly the man stands, he disorientated and stumbles as he climbs through the mass of multicoloured wires. The man is wearing a navy fleece and brown jeans, he has short black hair and blue eyes. The man starts walking around the area, familiarising himself with his surroundings. He was quickly found a clock and discovered that the time was four am, the next task was to find the date at which he had arrived. The man spotted a young woman walking down the street towards him and ran towards her. The woman clearly scared backed away from him.

“Hello, I'm not going to harm you” the man said, trying to reassure her “my name is James.”

“H-hello” stuttered the woman, “what is it that you want.”

“I need to know the date” James replied quickly.

“It's the third of July” stated the woman.

“What year?” asked James.

As soon as the woman stated that the year, James ran off into the distance and she let out a sigh of relief. James quickly made his way to the car park where he had arrived, as he now knew that his invention had worked. He was in the past. As he ran through the city streets the sun began to rise, and a few raindrops started falling. When he arrived at his destination James was devastated to find sparks flying from his time machine and smoke rising from the centre of one of the circuit boards.

Later that day shops around the city began to open and after spending the morning so far on a park bench James started exploring the city. In his time people travel mainly by walking or public transport, so James was surprised to find so many individual cars on the roads, he spent a long time wondering how to make his way across the torrent of vehicles before seeing someone using a crossing and following their example. After crossing the road James made his way into an electronics store, as he browsed the shelves for the components he required to repair his invention he was stopped by a shop assistant.

“Can I help you?” inquired the assistant.

As he detailed his requirements to the shop assistant, from the confused expression on his face James knew returning to his own time would be more difficult than anticipated.

James sighed. He had no idea what to do, so headed out of the shop, leaving the stunned shop assistant standing there.

He felt sad. He was trapped in the past. 2009 was such a weird time. They still had cars with wheels! This was crazy. His time machine was broken and he had no way of getting home.

And then the woman he’d seen earlier appeared. She starred at him.

“Are you ok?” She asked.

James looked up. “No.” He said.

“Why? What is up?”

James shrugged.

The girl moved closer. “I’m sorry. You don’t even know my name. I’m Kelly.”

“Wow, that’s an old fashioned name.” James said.

Kelly frowned. “Not as old as James!”

James laughed. “That’s not my real name anyway. It’s Jameshin”

Kelly laughed. “That’s a weird name.”

James laughed. “Maybe for your time zone.”

“What do you mean by that?”

James shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Oh gosh.” Kelly sighed. “My mate Shareen is like that. I’ll see her and she will say something’s wrong and I’ll be like ‘What’s up?’ and she goes ‘You don’t want to know.’ And then I think...why bother telling me?”

James was laughing. “Are you what they call a ‘Chav’?”

“Nah! Of course not. I’m posh.” Kelly laughed. “Now. Are you gunna tell me what you were going on about?”

James sighed. “I’m from the future.”

Kelly hadn’t believed it, and James was not surprised. But Kelly had continued to listen.

He took her back to the carpark and they saw time machine.

“Oh my God!” Kelly beamed. “Are you’re a Time lord?”

James laughed. “No. I’m not. I’m human. And I was testing this time machine they’ve just invented in my time.”

“When is your time?” Kelly asked carefully.

“I’m from the 32^nd century.”

“Wow!” Kelly screamed. “That’s soooo cool.”

James nodded. “It is, I suppose. But to come back here is pretty amazing.”

“I’d love to see the future!” Kelly said, ignoring James. “Do you still have New Look?”

“Yes,” James said, “But it’s called Old Look now.”

“Do you still have EastEnder’s?”

James shook his head. “No, that finished well before my time. The Square went into melt down after Ian Beale bought a washing machine.”

“Oh no!” Kelly said. “That’s hilarious. Did Katie and Peter get back together?”

“Yes.” James said. “They are. I went to their wedding.”

“What? Surely they’d be dead by your time?”

“They should be. But they’re alive.”

“What!” Kelly said, narrowing her eyes. “That’s impossible.”

And then James noticed her bag. It had Winnie the Pooh on it.

“Walt Disney is still alive too.”

Then Kelly’s mouth dropped open.

“It works?” She asked. “Freezing people works?”

“Yep.” James said. “Cryogenically Frozen. Walt Disney, Katie and Peter, Ant. Dec melted though.”

“I can’t believe it works.” Kelly said. “My uncle is the professor in charge of it!”

“No way!” James said. And then it came to him. “Do you think he can get me frozen?”

“It costs a lot.” Kelly said, “But if you have the money, I don’t see why not.”

“Ah.” James said, and shot her a wide grin.

Professor Dickson was sitting at his desk, listening to the news on the radio. It had just reported that a bank had been broken into and that all the money had been stolen. He sighed, and continued on with his work. He had just authorised Frau Jones to be frozen so that the world could still put up with her eye in the future.

His niece knocked on the door.

“Uncle!” Kelly cried as she ran in.

“Kelly?” He said, and he saw James follow her in.

They told them him all about James coming from the future. He didn’t believe them, but he agreed to freeze James.

Dickson crossed Cilla off the list, and put James in her place.

He opened the chamber. It was icy cold. James looked at Kelly.

“Thanks.” He said.

“You’re welcome.” Kelly smiled. “I’ll shut the door.”

And as Kelly shut the door, she tripped. And fell in. She turned to get back out, but the door locked shut. She banged on it, but her uncle was no where. She turned to look at James...

...and James looked back at her. The door was opened. “Welcome to the Year 3,109!” Said a voice.

Kelly stepped out. James followed. He was home!

“Take me back!!” Kelly shouted. “I want to go home!”

“You can’t.” James said, sadly.

Kelly cried.

Katie Price was standing over by the door. She ran over.

“Don’t worry. Pete is releasing Mysterious Girl again, so you won’t feel home sick.”

And that was enough for both Kelly and James. James grabbed Kelly’s hand and the pair ran out of the building.

They left the hospital and dashed down a street.

James dragged Kelly to a shop named called Time Machines R Us. They raced inside and bought the first time machine.

Finally, Kelly stepped out back into 21^st century London, with James by her side.

“I think the past is better.” Kelly laughed. And James agreed.

They walked down the street together, holding hands.

Tangled Up

Posted by Timi / at 12:53 AM / / 0 comments

An FWA Story by Veronique Belanger and Harry Wright

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She heard the slamming sound of the door. At this very moment, it was impossible for her to understand what had just happened. It wasn’t their first argument, of course. She had noticed that they would argue more often now, and every time, it seemed to be getting worse than the previous fight. Suddenly, he had looked at her in a way that was impossible to forget. She had seen a lot of anger passing in his eyes, and for a second, she even thought that he would strangle her. But he had left the house before anything could happen. Only, she had seen it and now she was scared.

It’s stupid to get mad at me and to run away because I provided the wrong answer to your question. I’m scared of you, but, at the same time I can’t get you out of my head. What if you come back...? What if you never come back...?

Lilly, a young woman of 24 years old was living a complicated relationship with an older man. He was dominant, if not violent. Lilly was only discovering this side of his personality now. The problem was that she had grown attached to him by now. She couldn’t really imagine her life without him. She had left everything to be with him, which was only aggravating.

And now I get the feeling that he is going to kill me one day.

Lilly took her keys and left the house. It was probably better for her to be absent when he would come back. She didn’t really know where to go. She had no family or friends in this town. The summer was already over and tourists had left the area now. She had the city for her alone, but could it really comfort her? She highly doubted it.

The young woman walked for a while and finally arrived at a beach. A panel at the entrance informed her that it was closed from 10PM to 8AM. She ignored it, removed her shoes and continued her walk on the sand until reaching a point far enough from the gates to remain unnoticed by police if they decided to check the beach.

Lilly sat down and wished she had brought alcohol with her. She wanted to forget how pathetic her life was. Not only was she hurt by the events of the day, but she was feeling that her life was a total failure.

I just need to calm down. I just need time to be myself again.

Even though her distress was growing, she was doing everything possible to calm down. She fixed her attention on the water and tried to remember how her life used to be. Was it really better before? Did Andrew really change her? Was she the same as before? And who was Lilly, anyway?

She vaguely remembered about reading that people who crosses our road always have influences on the person we become. As human, we always change... However, our personality traits remain mostly the same throughout our life. She had always been a passive person, so it wasn’t all surprising to find herself tangled up in this relationship.

Lilly had met Andrew on the campus, through common friends who had invited them to the same party. She couldn’t recall how had seen who first, but the result had been the same in the end. Evolving in the same circle of friends, they had multiplied the occasions to see each other and they had developed a strong affection for each other. When Andrew asked her out, she said yes and then everything started to speed up. Before the end of the semester, they had made projects to live together.

When Lilly moved in with her boyfriend, she slowly stopped to see her friends. They were living way too far from her new house and all her attention was focussed on Andrew anyway. As for her parents, they were separated and were too busy with their career and new lives to pay attention to her anyway. That’s how she slowly became so isolate from everyone. Lilly put her studies on hold too when Andrew convinced her that she did not need a diploma to be happy in life. He would be making enough money to supply everything they needed. She believed everything he had said... and now they had been living together for over three years. Andrew had done more than just influencing her life ; he had shaped her exactly the way he wanted. In Andrew’s hands, Lilly was barely more than clay.

As she was getting ready to leave the beach, she felt a presence around her. She had the conviction that someone was watching her. Someone was spying on her. Lilly took a deep breath and called : “Andrew? Is that you?”

No reply.

“Andrew?” she called louder.

Maybe it’s not him... it could be a lost dog for all I know.

Lilly stood up and tried to scan the horizon around her. With the only light coming from the moon, she was having troubles to see anything that wasn’t in a range for 3 meters. Even with her hardest efforts, she was doomed to fail.

Suddenly, her phone started to ring, breaking the silence of the night.

“Hello?” she answered with a shaky voice.

She heard a breathing sound, but the caller hang up without saying anything. Scared, Lilly started to run on the beach without paying much attention to the direction she was taking. She needed to head back in the city as quick as possible. Lilly did not want to be alone anymore, especially if Andrew had been tracking her and watching her since the beginning. She tripped over something and it took her a few seconds to be back on her feet.

“Good evening sweetie” said a voice way too familiar.

Lilly turned around in the direction where the voice was coming from. Andrew was standing right behind her. He had followed her to the beach, and now... And now what?

Lilly stepped backwards, away from Andrew, and slowly continued trying to put some distance between them. As she stepped backwards she could feel a stone wall behind her. The feel of the rough wall behind her told Lilly she was a the edge of the beach, but not how the distance to the gates. Andrew advanced towards Lilly, unaware of his intentions and not wanting to find out, she ran along the edge of the beach. As the gates came in to view, Andrew caught hold of her arm.

“Get off” shouted Lilly

Lilly continued to run and attempted to shake Andrew off her arm. As they ran together Andrew tripped, Lilly took this opportunity to get away and pushed Andrew off her arm. As Andrew fell, the push sent him towards the wall. Andrew had not yet got back up when Lilly left the beach, heading towards the city center.

As Lilly entered the city center, she was pleased to see that there were many people around. She sat on a small wooden bench and thought about the events minutes ago.

What if he hasn't got back up and is lying unconscious on the beach, but what was he doing following me out there in the first place.

Lilly didn't want to return to house, in case Andrew was waiting, or returned while she was sleeping, but she didn't know anyone in the area she could stay with. She went into a small bar and bought herself a drink to take her mind off things. After finishing her drink and cooling off from the run across the beach, Lilly decided to stay the night in a bed and breakfast. The room was quite small, but the bed was comfortable and Lilly was tired, so she was able to get to sleep easily.

The next morning Lilly was woken up slowly by the sun rising, she felt calm, the events of the previous night seemed like a bad dream. The night before seemed a lot more real after Lilly switched on the local news.

“A man has been found unconscious on the beach this morning, and has been admitted to hospital.” stated the news reader.

Lilly decided that continuing to live with Andrew would not be a good idea, and thought that while he was in hospital may be the best time to move out. Over breakfast Lilly contemplated what to do now. She contacted some of her old friends, but many of them had moved much further away after completing their diplomas, but eventually after numerous phone calls Lilly was able to find someone to stay with temporarily.

Later that day Lilly's friend Laura came to Lilly's house and together they loaded her belongings into Laura's car while they talked. Laura agreed with Lilly's decision to move out.

“You can stay with me for as long as you need to.” said Laura reassuringly with a smile.

Mateo

Posted by Timi / at 12:53 AM / / 0 comments

An FWA Story by Parwez Aullymun and Matthew Crouch

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“Come in…” the old man said. Valentino has now reached the graceful age of 89. Nearly 9 decades spent on this earth and he spent most of his life alone. He was living in his house on the hills of Italy where he spent the last twenty years. Today he was having the visit of one of his old friends, Katrina; who also retired after a 30 year service in the local hospital.

Valentino was not well, since the past few days now, that horrible cough was still here. That is why he called Katrina. Lying on his bed, he was unable to make a movement without coughing. “Hey my friend, what has happened to you?” Katrina asked. “I’ve known better days my friend; I guess my duty on this earth seems to be over… “

“I can’t stop thinking of what I did my whole life… A life full of surprises and now only memories remain…” said Valentino

Katrina asked her friend to go out and off both went for a stroll on the beautiful hillside. Vast cultivations of grapes could be seen. Some of which belonged to Valentino. Valentino had some difficulty walking. His body was tired with age. They went to sit near one of the fields where some men were still working the earth “like in the past” with traditional tools and horses and were ploughing the land where Katrina lost her husband a few years ago; an accident which the villagers still talk about. Valentino has always been a lonely man and a very kind one also. Always ready to help the poor whenever needed. He had his own world of his. He is also a very quiet person, with a heart of gold and was not afraid to show that he preferred men instead of women. He was always an open minded person. His life was not always as smooth as it is now. Taunts from the people who could not accept him in a society already divided amongst itself and full of political propaganda. Worse of all, the only laws would seem to be gossips and taunts that only make your life unbearable.

Valentino and Katrina became very good friends after the death of the husband of the latter. She also was facing the cruel world of a society in which widows were not allowed to live normally, would it be in a city, things would have been different, but each village has its own traditions and this one has its own set of “rules”. A society plagued with unjustified fears. Katrina had no other person to turn to and luckily she met Valentino who guided her and helped her overcome this period of unjustified torture.

Katrina comes from Poland. In her country her whole family was killed by the Nazi soldiers. She was a young girl at that time. She managed to run away from that hell in which it was raining bullets and in which a sea of blood was drowning everything on its passage. Hungers raging the stomach of the young girl, tears were to be her only companion.

Katrina had no money. On her arrival, begging was her only choice. One day she met with a priest, who looked for a place for her to work. It was a huge task at that time. Fate was by the side of Katrina. A rich family was looking for a maid to do the household chores, and that is how Katrina started her life. It was not easy. Kicks would be the rewards of any mistake, and better not mention the pervert master she had… Two years later, she met with Joseph, a good worker some would say, and on a fine Saturday afternoon, Padre Paul gave his holy benediction to the couple. Joseph was a laborer and with time passing and sacrifices done, the couple bought a plot of land and started cultivating some vegetables and started rearing a few goats.

On the hillside where Katrina and Valentino were sitting and gazing, there was a silence. This said it all. Those souls which had been crushed and sliced to pieces so many times were there, sitting. Thinking of those times when they were younger.

Katrina’s only daughter left the house to seek new horizons in America. Ever since she went there, she never contacted her mother until a few days back. Asking for money and telling her mother to go to rent those council flats and sell the property they had.

Katrina has no one to speak to apart from Valentino. Katrina, in tears, asked Valentino to help her... She does not want to leave the village where she spent her life… even though she has to bear the taunts and shouts of the villagers. Living in a box surely is not appealing to her. “Well, you know these youngsters nowadays…” said Valentino.

Katrina sobbed. Her life was at a crossroads. Should she take her own path of life, or lead the one demanded by the only remaining link she shared with the departed? There was only one man who would know the answer. A wise, old man, who proved to be not too far from her side.

Valentino lay still, basking in the Italian sun on one of the rare opportunities he got to go outside nowadays. He propped up his head against a lemon tree. This lemon tree had been in the land as long as he had been and seen more civil rivalries than any human could ever fathom. This tree had the thoughts, the knowledge and the experience to sort out any quarrel, were it able to.

“Patience, my dear,” spoke Valentino, “Good things come to those who wait.”

“But I can’t wait! You must understand this! My life has been torn to pieces and I don’t think I can spare any further pieces of my soul before I –”

“Patience! God shall find a resolve.”

Katrina had the upmost respect for her good friend. He wasn’t looking well and any such quarrel could lead to undesirable consequences and only compound her spiraling lifestyle.

They both walk back up the hill towards Valentino’s house where, all of a sudden, he breaks out in a coughing fit. This wasn’t unusual and gave no cause for alarm, but it became the straw that broke the camel’s back. Valentino was like a brother to Katrina. They had been through countless sorrows and joys in their lives. Their history goes back a long way. She couldn’t bear the thought she could possibly be losing a member of her family again.

“Don’t do this to me, Valentino! Don’t do this!”

“My… my darling… God shall deliver whatever fate he sees fit. It may be my time, but I’ve got one over on this guy on so many occasions. Don’t take me out for the count just yet, my dear.”

“I couldn’t bear it if I didn’t have you. No husband, no daughter, no steady foothold in any career. My life might as well just be over when yours is.”

“Hush now, hush now. You have much of your life to live for. Don’t whittle your life away like this. You have plenty to live for. Your husband would not approve of your actions. He would want you here, where you belong.”

“Here? But my daughter wants me elsewhere. Oh, Valentino. Oh my.”

Katrina scurried off into the village at the bottom of the hill, with tears falling around her like shrapnel. She had no idea where she was heading. Running just felt like the best option. She had no opportunities left in her life. All the best things, taken. If she could run, she could make a new beginning. Forget her life back at home. Start a new family, start a new life.

She cut through the grape vines surrounding her husband’s fields. Everywhere she looked she saw a dead end with no immediate path ahead of her. She stopped. She turned to look but the vines were too much. Everywhere she looked she saw her husband, her daughter, her master’s indecent actions as she lay helpless now, on the floor, sobbing to herself. Why had her life become like this? What would make it all come back?

Villagers stifle together and collect their pitchforks. After seeing her running, they know she’s alone and vulnerable – a perfect time to strike. They storm though Katrina’s husband’s field, slicing their way through priceless vines and stepping on immortal fruits of his labour in order to get to her. They run full speed to the neighboring field where she lay. As they catch sight of her, they lose momentum. Roars become moans. Moans become sighs. Sighs become silence. Even the angry mob has heart.

Katrina lay there, embedded in the clearing of vines she made as she clutches a poppy. The poppy came from the fields around Poland she and her husband visited thirty years ago to visit her hometown and the memorials in place for her departed family.

“He swore he would never leave,” she sobbed to herself, “He swore.”

Holding the poppy to her heart for a couple of minutes made her realise – This isn’t how he would have wanted her to be. He was always a pro-active person.

“‘Live for the moment!’. That’s what he would always say,” she sniffed.

With that decision, she stood up, looked around and spotted the lemon tree where Valentino was sat. You could always spot the lemon tree. Everyone knew about the lemon tree.

She wiped away her tears and began running towards Valentino. Before she reached the hill, she stopped off at the stream which ran around the hill and her husband’s field. She stood staring at the flowing water moving fluidly through the village and onward to the unknown. She picked a petal off of the side of the poppy, placed it above the water and let it drop in. Let the village never forget your heroics.

Lifting her head up, she proceeded to run up the hill. She didn’t lose breath like she did on the way down as she had a target. She knew what she was aiming for. Valentino was her calling. She must appreciate the world’s greater beings before turning sorrow on those who had left it.

Valentino lay motionless against the lemon tree. His eyes shut, his mouth closed, his hands grasping a piece of paper.

“Valentino! Valentino! I have realised my calling. I shall no longer dwell on the past! The past has been and gone, the present is now. The future is my calling! I finally feel that God no longer hates me and my being. I feel like I have been freed of an eternal curse! Nothing can stop me now!”

Valentino gave no response.

“Valentino?”

Valentino had passed on. He died shouting after Katrina who, too engrossed in her world of self-pity, blocked out the hurtful outside world. No words could have deterred her. Not even the ones of her closest friends. Not even his last. Katrina took a turn for the worse.

Thumping the ground with closed fists, the Earth gave no response. Valentino was gone. She screamed at the top of her lungs in grief. She couldn’t take another person dying on her. She insisted it was her who was to go next.

She composed herself. She will deal with her loss as she had done for everyone else who had left her. Think about other things. She watched as a fruit from the lemon tree dropped into the arms of Valentino, where she noticed the piece of paper. Anything he was to grasp with such might must be important.

Unfolding the note, she was taken aback. She could not believe what she was holding in front of her. She wiped her eyes to make sure it wasn’t a bleary eyed impression it was making on her, but no, it was real. The address to her daughter’s house in America and two tickets for a boat to get there. Valentino obviously made it his last wish to see Katrina happy.

So she stood up, shook her legs and walked onwards into the fading sunlight, address and tickets in hand.

“Live for the moment!”

Tears of the Sun – The Melody of Farewell

Posted by Timi / at 12:52 AM / / 0 comments

An FWA Story by Shazia Kurmoo and Nussaïbah Raja

-----

As a dark cloud hid the full moon, a single drop rolled down her cheeks… Her grey eyes gleaming in the gloom, she whispered in the quiet of the night “I miss you…” She let her fingers wander on the yellow pages, as if drinking in each word, each phrase her hands touched. “I miss you so,” she repeated in a breath, before bringing her knees to her chin and sinking her head on them. The sobs were shaking her body uncontrollably, and her hiccups were the only music in this night…

Born on the same day, at the same time, but not related by blood… Two beings Fate had decided to link by the Red String. As their cries broke the silence of the night of their birth, their journey together began.

-

“AYLA? AYLA? You listening? AYLA!” shouted Helya in a most exasperated voice, casting a glance at the black-haired beauty sitting beside her.

Helya couldn’t help a smile from reaching her lips as she saw Ayla’s half-closed eyes and her serious expression as she intently listened to some piece of classical music on her iPod.

“Of course, you aren’t listening,” Helya sighed. “As always engrossed in your music…” she continued more to herself than for Ayla’s ears.

“Hmm? Did you say anything, Helya?” a soft voice at last asked, looking up inquisitively.

Helya could never get used to those azure grey eyes. She knew her eyes were of almost the same hue, but Ayla’s seemed to hold some kind of magical enchantment in them, drawing in the ones who chanced to cross her gaze. They were like twin pools of icy liquid metal, whose depth seemed to reach out to your very soul. And Helya was far from being immune to that mysterious power, even after knowing Ayla for almost all her life…

“I have been trying to get your attention for the past 15 minutes, but the Missus, as usual, was too absorbed in her addiction to pay attention to her friend!” Helya finally uttered, in mock-remonstrance.

“I’m really sorry, Helya,” Ayla replied, voice full of apology, “It’s just I need to work on this particular piece for my next class, but till now, I can’t even understand the essence of the melody,” she continued, quite distressed.

“It’ll be alright Al,” Helya comforted her friend, using the old childhood nickname.

But Ayla just nodded absently, too tense about the musical piece to think of anything else.

Both Ayla and Helya were enrolled at the new academy for young artistic talents, Philyra Art Academy. The school’s curriculum was as dynamic as it was unusual. Indeed, the select students were allowed quite a lot of freedom to develop their special talent at their own pace. Conventional classes were replaced by small group workshops where the teachers monitored the students’ progress, offering advice and issuing them novel challenges in the form of assignments. The only strict requirements of the school were that the students needed to live on campus and should not miss those weekly workshops without any valid reason.

Ayla looked around herself, breathing in the fresh air, feeling the distress pouring out of her pores as her eyes took in the surrounding scenery. Helya and herself were seated under a big oak tree in the academy’s yard. Around them, several little groups were gathered similarly, working or relaxing or a bit of both. Laughter and serenity floated in the air. Philyra was like an Eden cut off from the world, a haven where Ayla could finally feel home.

“I love it here,” Helya whispered dreamily, as if reading Ayla’s mind, her gaze drifting off to the stone building at the far end of the yard. “It’s like I’ve finally found the place I belong, where I fit in. I’m sure you feel the same. I’m sure that no matter what, it’s gonna be fine if we are here, together,” she continued, reaching out to squeeze Ayla’s hand.

“Thanks, Lya,” Ayla murmured, the old nickname naturally coming to her lips.

They remained silent for some moments, watching the comings and goings of their fellow classmates, feeling so thankful to have been given the chance to devote themselves completely to their inner talents.

“Well, I better go,” Helya finally said, breaking the silence, and getting up, “or I’ll be late for my sculpture workshop. See you later, Ayla! Let’s meet at the cafeteria for lunch, okay? And yeah, cheer up, will you? That worried look doesn’t suit you,” she finished laughingly, making Ayla smile.

And with a final wave of the hand, Helya ran off towards the main building, leaving Ayla alone to ponder on her worries.

As Ayla watched the golden hair disappear among the trees and students, she couldn’t help but admire Helya’s optimism and her innate power to make people smile. Without Helya, she would always have doubted herself and would certainly have not taken the entrance exam to Philyra.

“You’re really amazing, Helya,” Ayla whispered, looking up at the sky.

Indeed, Helya was amongst the only students here at the academy to be enrolled in two specialized departments: painting and sculpture. Her workload was considerably heavier than her classmates, but Helya never did seem to mind, taking immense pleasure in each new challenge she faced.

“Okay, gotta follow Helya’s example,” Ayla told herself as she got up, dusted herself, took her instrument and made for the music practice building where she had booked a practice room.

As she entered the familiar sound proof room, she felt the usual feeling of serenity overwhelm her. She opened her instrument bag and took out her cherished companion, her violin. Holding the sculpted instrument under her chin, she moved the bow along the strings, striking the first notes of Schubert’s Ave Maria. Midway through, she stopped abruptly, putting down the violin and bow.

“Something doesn’t feel quite right,” she murmured, pensive. She knew something was off, but what? She couldn’t quite put her finger on it. At that same time, the room’s intercom buzzed and an out of body voice called,

“Miss Ayla Rhoswen, please report to the director’s office.”

Puzzled, Ayla packed her instrument and got out of the room and the building, heading for the administrative block. Why was the director calling her? What could have happened?

She still hadn’t found answers to her questions as she knocked at the director’s door. She pushed opened the door as she heard the blunt “come in”. Ayla felt giddy with apprehension as she entered the austere office. She walked straight to the table where the director, Mr Signild was seated. However, today he was not alone. Standing by his right was Ayla’s violin tutor, Miss Finvarra.

“Good morning,” Ayla greeted, feeling her apprehension augmenting.

“Hello there, child,” Mr Signild said, smiling, “have a seat. We’ve got some news for you,” he finished with a glance towards Miss Finvarra.

Nodding, Ms. Finvarra declared, “Ayla, you’ve been chosen for a scholarship at a prestigious music school in Vienna.”

Ayla could not believe it... She, chosen to study abroad at one of Europe’s best music school? It was a dream come true. And in the following half hour, she listened to the details of the scholarship and the curriculum at her new school.

“But remember, you need to be there by the end of this month, and you won’t be back for at least two years, so think about it carefully ,” were the director’s last words.

Ayla went to the cafeteria where Helya was waiting for her, still mulling these words. Seeing the dark look on her friend’s face,

“What’s wrong, Ayla? What happened?” she enquired, worried.

“I’ve been given a scholarship to study in Vienna,” Ayla finally let out, subdued.

“That’s great! Congrats!!” Helya exclaimed, “Why aren’t you happier about it?”

“I am, but Lya, I need to be there by the end of this month... And I won’t be coming back for at least two years...”

Helya just stared at Ayla at those words, petrified. What was Ayla talking about? She felt Ayla squeeze her hands, bringing her back to reality. She tried not to look into those blue eyes for she knew she would just find herself drowned in their sadness, but she knew she had to, if she were to convince Ayla that she had to go. Mustering her courage and at the same time closing her heart to the only person who knew what it held, she smiled, hoping that her best friend would not realise what she was doing. She wouldn’t, she told herself, Al was too tormented to notice anything right now.

“Then, what are you waiting for? Accept it…,” she softly whispered, hoping that her calm voice would soothe Ayla’s worries.

“But…”

“No buts. Didn’t you want to become the very best and finally be able to write your own music?” Helya paused as she waited for the words to sink in. Ayla nodded, her perturbed expression never changing. It took a long time to finally convince her to accept the offer; it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and Helya was not about to let her ruin this for herself just because they would not be able to be together. Truly speaking, it was going to be difficult for none of them knew what it would be like without the other but Helya told Alya that it would be alright, wondering if she was trying to persuade her friend or herself.

The following days went by really quickly and the girls were as busy as ever. In between Helya’s heavy workload and Alya’s pre-departure seminars, they rarely got to see each other during the day but it did not stop them from going to each other’s rooms at night to stay up and talk endlessly, from the pettiest topics to the most serious ones.

It was finally time for each to go their separate ways until the day came for them to meet again. Helya thought that it was better than expected, for they had both imagined the worst possible scenarios for Alya’s departure. They smiled and hugged each other, made their usual jokes; it was as if they would be meeting the next day but both knew they wouldn’t. As Alya walked towards the check-in kiosk, Helya’s eyes started filling up; it had just sunk in, she wouldn’t be able to see her sister for a long time and she did not know how she would be able to handle that…

Things on Alya’s side were a little different, for the excitement she was feeling took over everything and she could not wait to be in Vienna. Still, in a small corner, she knew she would have to deal with those conflicted feelings soon, else she would not be able to concentrate on what she was going there to do. For now, true to the musician she was, she would just let the notes make up the melody of her new life.

Her new life which was even more hectic than the previous one. She spent all her time either in her workshops or practicing her violin. Sometimes, she would even allow herself to play the tune that went on in her head and simply refused to go away, but she always made sure that nobody was around to listen to her. She was not ready yet for an audience, but she did dream of having people listen to her very own music someday. For now, it would just be Helya, who now instead of listening to the violonist live had to resort to the strings of technology to be able to listen to Alya’s music.

It wasn’t so bad, she said to herself, two years would go by quickly and soon, the two friends will be reunited again. But soon, reality started taking over when the emails started coming less frequently and she couldn’t talk to Alya as much as she wanted. She could understand for the budding artist she was knew how hard they had to work to be able to survive in the creative world. But still, it didn’t take long for the tiny demon of doubt to find a way to her heart and she began wondering whether the distance was putting a strain on their friendship as well.

Helya mentioned this once or twice on the phone while talking to Alya but the latter just shrugged it off, saying that it was just her imagination. True enough, she always felt like everything was just the same when they spoke but it was only when she was alone that her wild mind came up with such thoughts. She usually gave herself a little tap on the head when that did happen; it was as if she and Alya had exchanged personality for Alya had always been the worrisome type and she, the optimistic one.

But the gloomy days began when the emails and phone calls completely stopped. Alya found herself immersed in her music as she struggled to keep up with all her classes. Helya, on the other hand, immersed herself in her art to be able to forget everything around her. Without Alya, it was not the same; Alya had been the one who made sure she kept her sanity while dealing with the other students here. The genius that she was often kept others away; they were either afraid of talking to her or jealous of her.

As a result of her social fallout, her moods were becoming even darker, but on the bright side, the boost it gave to her art was considerable. She was losing herself in her paintings and sculpture, but somehow it made her bolder than she was and due to that, she was able to explore her endless limits as she drowned herself in them. The occasional emails of Ayla did make her feel better, but even that tiny feeling got lost as the routine of the Academy sank in.

Without them even realising, the two years went by, bringing changes to both of the girls as Helya became more absorbed with her art and Alya getting more confident about hers. But they both were looking forward to this reunion of theirs, or at least, they were before Helya received yet another shocking news from Alya…

Lya,

How are you? You won’t believe what just happened to me. I was approached by Julian Farahilde to come and study with him, you know, that world famous composer whose music I’m always listening to? God, I simply can’t get over that. It’s really like a dream come true. He was my tutor’s student and came to give a lecture. He heard me practice and bang, I’m now his student.

It seems it would take longer for me to come back home. Don’t miss me too much, k? I’ll keep you updated. I have to rush now, I have to start packing.

Love,

Al.

Helya reached for the little glass statue on her desk and traced the outlines. It was that of a girl playing violin; she had sculpted it as a welcome gift for Alya but it seems that she wouldn’t be able to give it to her now. Retaining her tears, she had a sudden urge to throw it against the wall but somehow she couldn’t. She opened her drawer and kept it there, thinking that nothing was going to be the same again.

-

5 years later

Helya started unpacking her stuffs in her new apartment. She was now the proud owner of the gallery found on the ground level, where her paintings and sculptures were exposed. She smiled as she thought how people could kill for her work; she had really come a long way. She continued her task, wondering where she had found the place to put all these in her old room at the Academy; the floor was cluttered with useless things which she should probably have thrown away. She was about to do so when she came across the little pink diary she thought she had lost.

As she opened it, memories flooded her but she refused to close it and throw it along with the other things she had found. As she traced the childish writings of an 8-year-old Alya, she could not fight the tears that came to her. She missed Alya, it was as simple as that.

However, the Helya that mingled with everyone at the opening of her gallery the next morning was far from the vulnerable one sobbing in her room the night before; she was the successful artist who had managed to make a name for herself as soon as she had started exposing her work and aye, she was proud of herself. She was talking to one of the collectors when one of her assistants came running to her.

“Helya, there’s someone who wants to buy that little statuette… I told her it wasn’t for sale but she simply wouldn’t listen.”

Helya tried to calm down her assistant and went to talk to the customer, to tell her that the chosen object wasn’t for sale for it was too important to her.

“Excuse me, ma’am? I’m Helya, the – “

As the concerned lady turned to her, Helya simply stood there, frozen as she stared at the woman. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing but those smiling blue eyes looking at her wouldn’t lie.

“Hey Lya. Long time, no see.”

Shadows of the Truth

Posted by Timi / at 12:52 AM / / 0 comments

An FWA story by Timi Reeder and Shazia Kurmoo

-----

‘What were their names?’

For a moment, the silence completely enveloped the small, cluttered room around them. The shadows of the fading Sun flickered across the distant wood-panelled walls. The mood had broken with those words; the air of cordiality they had held throughout the brief meeting seemed to crash down to the dull metallic floor.

The Commander’s dark eyes shot a deep glance at her deputy. His question had come out of the blue, and for a short moment, she seemed unable to gather a response. But as the young officer began to recoil, fearing with a deep anxiety the infamous bad temper of his superior officer, her shocked expression turned almost seamlessly into an understanding smile, like that of a mother addressing a young child.

‘Does it matter?’ she shrugged the wayward question away ‘They never existed. This mistake never happened’

‘A mistake?’ he thought to himself, that word was not one he had never heard her say in all their years of working together. He doubted he would ever hear her say it again.

He opened his mouth to respond, but once again the silence around them prevailed; he was still locked in her gaze, and was left speechless against her.

Satisfied of her victory, she closed and locked the sapphire blue folder on the table. Within minutes, he knew that it would be burnt away to nothing, its contents gone forever.

‘I think that’s all, you may go now lieutenant’

Her blunt, sharp tone had never changed throughout her many years in the Agency. It had won her no allies, but had gained her the position of vast power which she now held. Despite the highly secretive nature of their profession, she was far more distant and removed from others then most around her. The most common joke in their division was that she would still feel crowded even if she was the last human left alive on Earth.

Joseph knew that his chance to challenge her decision had passed, the matter was now closed. As he turned the mahogany handle of her office door, she spoke out after him.

‘Lieutenant, I know it goes without saying, but this never happened. Don’t ever speak of it again’

Without even looking back, he strode out into the long winding corridor beyond, hoping that in a building full of buried secrets there was still one which could be broken.

‘It’s not over yet’ he whispered to himself, as the voice of a nameless colleague screamed out to him for help once again in his tortured mind.

-

The shadows of the dying day gently flashed across Joseph’s troubled face as he ran through the last of his assignments; several decrypted intercepts from a suspected terrorist cell. After filling out a command report and authorising appropriate action to be taken, he glanced back at the e-mail he had received that morning:

‘From: admin@fsa.gov.da

To: u571@fsa.gov.da

Subject: Meeting Notification

Please report to Commander Bozeman’s office at 14:30 for a D31 meeting’

He had no doubts as to what the subject would be, but despite his faint hopes, he knew in his heart that it would be a closed case by the end of the day. The vast open-plan office was empty now; his fellow agents had all signed out and left long ago, leaving their division leader all alone against the piercing light of the summer sun.

Joseph had always preferred to work alone, even as a child. This was said to be the first sign of a potential future FSA agent; the Federal Security Agency dealt with some of the country’s darkest secrets, socialising beyond your fellow officers was always a minor risk, but one that the Agency could not insure against. No emblem, no official recognition, Joseph’s life had descended into the shadows as he had quickly risen up through the ranks.

He knew that to pursue the matter further was to risk punishment and imprisonment. He knew that the Commander knew far more then she was letting on ‘Just let it go, it never happened, it never happened’. But then they came back to him, two terrified voices, two invisible faces, the fear of death in their cries.

The distant buzzing of a phone woke up Joseph from his nightmarish visions of the two agents trapped in the snows of a distant land, seeing their predators race towards them, carrying out a foreign set of orders.

‘Lieutenant Clay, C-Division’ he answered automatically picking up the receiver.

For a few moments he heard nothing but silence on the other end, but then slowly the distant sound of a drawer opening and papers being moved became apparent. ‘What the Hell?’ he thought to himself. He was still a little disorientated from his mind’s journey into the past; the call’s distant noises sent a wave of fear across him, yet his heart willed him to listen on. A loud click echoed through the receiver followed by the sound of a heavy door opening.

‘I’m sure I don’t have to tell you why you are here today’ a stern female voice said, leaving Joseph’s heart racing wildly. The voices were distant and muffled, but there was no denying their identities. As the recording progressed, Joseph scanned quickly around the office again, completely abandoned, the last rays of the Sun setting behind the distant hills.

Every instinct told him to put the phone down and run away, ‘run away from what?’ . He had to listen on, and identify the source of the call. Their conversation had seemed to last forever that afternoon, though listening to it again, it seemed to run through in just a few moments.

‘What were their names?’

The silence felt even more uncomfortable in eerie retrospect. Within a few moments, he was dismissed again and the sounds of his dull footsteps as he walked across the metal floor grew fainter and fainter ‘the microphone must be near her desk’ . Questions were starting to flood into his mind, all communications inside of the FSA were filtered and verified before their delivery, whoever was on the other side must have found a way around them. He braced himself mentally for the next part of the message; he half expected to hear a dark computerised voice read out a ransom note as the Commander’s office door clicked shut once again. He needed to find her and warn her about the infiltration.

Silence once again descended over the line as Joseph left the room behind. After a few seconds, he wondered whether he should speak out to his mystery caller, but he held his silence as the recording continued with eight small distant beeps. After a brief pause, a voice spoke out, its sharp tone still recognisable, undeniable.

‘Kim Bozeman here’

‘Yes, it’s over now, he’s just heading back to C-Division’

‘No it hasn’t I’m afraid, he’s still not...’

‘Oh come on, you and I both know that that is a lie, I’m surprised that you would even dare to suggest it!’

‘I could ask you the same thing; I’m not the only one at fault here!’

‘...I’m sorry sir’

‘Are you sure that there is no other way? He could be of use to us’

‘They were nothing more then recruits; something had to be done...’

‘Very well, it will be soon I promise.’

‘I know, I know. It will all be over soon’

Joseph felt a wave of pure fear pass over him as listened to his Commander’s words, he had never heard her speak like that before, no-one was superior to her; he had no clue as to the mysterious person on the other end of her telephone was. As the Commander’s phone was returned to its cradle, the distant humming of the recording stopped only to be replaced by a quiet and softly spoken male voice.

‘Lieutenant Clay, you are in danger. You need to escape and you need to escape now’

The line clicked and went dead. He felt as if a thousand eyes were watching him, and a thousand enemies were lying in the shadows, waiting to strike. With pure anxiety gripping his body, he stood up and looked around in pure fear; the walls seemed to close in around him. He thought he heard the sound of footsteps approaching.

“I have to get away from here,” a voice urged in his mind.

His senses were on alert, the panic-induced adrenaline rushed to his limbs as he tried to make out any enemies lurking in the gloom. He made way for the elevator, all the while looking around for any possible signs of danger.

As he entered the cab, punched his destination and saw the door close on him, Joseph let out a sigh of pure relief. He was safe, at least for now. The warning by the strange mystery caller played over in his mind,

‘Lieutenant Clay, you are in danger. You need to escape and you need to escape now’

Escape, but from what or whom? Who was the man? How did he know him? What did he want with him?

Joseph felt the blood rush to his temple; his heart was beating erratically against his chest. In all his years as an Agent, he had never felt such fear overcome him. He was against up unnamed and shapeless adversaries. Who they were? Where they were? What did they want of him? Were all questions he wished he had answers to.

He had no logical explanation for this turn of events and that left him as helpless as an amateur. Joseph took a deep breath and tried to calm the storm raging through his mind. The only clue he had as to why this was happening, was the nightmare he just came out of, just a few days ago. Again, he felt the tormenting visions of his agonising colleagues rise up to the surface. He needed to know what happened there in that frozen hell. He needed to know who they were.

As the elevator beeped open, he carefully exited the confined space, looking around for any sign of danger. The long winding corridor was deserted, bathed in a sea of menacing shadows.

Stealthily, he headed for the office with the heavy mahogany door, at the far end of this labyrinthine hallway. He wasn’t sure to find answers there, for it was more than certain all evidence had already been wiped clean by Commander Bozeman, but he just knew he had to give it a try at least.

Joseph had finally reached Kim Bozeman’s office. He stood on the side of the door, unmoving, listening for any presence inside the office. All he could hear was the ponderous silence of this dead late evening. He felt his nerves tense once again,

“Something is wrong,” he thought to himself, “This unnatural silence gives me the shivers...”

Counting mentally to three, Joseph slowly turned the knob and pushed open the door. He glanced inside, left and right and over his shoulders, making sure he was truly alone. He almost heaved a sigh of relief on discovering the deserted premises. Almost was the right word, for he could not shake off the feeling of being observed.

Without losing any more time, he rushed to the imposing desk at the other side of the room. The drawers were locked; not that he’d expected it to be otherwise. ‘Where to look? ‘he wondered, standing to his full height and surveying his surroundings. It was only then he remembered thinking the recording device was somewhere near the Commander’s desk. If he could find it, maybe he would get a clue as to the identity and purpose of the anonymous caller.

Joseph crouched and felt his way under the desk. Nothing. He moved along, trying to discern any abnormality in the otherwise smooth surface. Suddenly, his fingers trailed upon a small round object. He carefully detached it from the wood. There in the palm of his hand, was a small microphone, one of the latest models.

Turning the device in this hand, Joseph was even more intrigued about the caller now.

The dull sound of soles against floor reached him. Someone was coming this way. He felt his blood run cold. He needed to find somewhere to hide and fast. The footsteps were closing in. The filing cabinet. He rushed to the side of the metal piece of furniture, and sunk down. He couldn’t be seen from the door, he was sure; but if one entered further in the room than the threshold, he’ll be found out.

Joseph lay still, waiting for the footsteps. They stopped, just outside the office. Would they come in? For some seconds, everything was once again all silent. Joseph dared not breathe, for fear of disturbing this hushed atmosphere. The footsteps started once more, passing by the office. He waited for them to grow fainter before letting out a relieved sigh.

He quickly scrambled to his feet and made a beeline for the door. He entered the elevator, pushing the button for the underground parking. But nothing happened. The cage stayed open. He tried again, punching the button multiple times, but to no avail.

Joseph felt the blood drain from his veins; cold sweat drops were now beading his forehead. His unknown assailants seemed to have found him. He rushed out of the elevator, heading for the emergency exit. As he banged open the door to the set of stairs, he was sure he heard running steps pursuing him. Not dwelling on it, he focused on his escape.

He had barely run down a few steps that a bullet whizzed past him, colliding with the wall ahead. Joseph looked up trying to make out the source of the projectile. He could see nothing in the gloom; save for the menacing shadows that appeared to be closing in on him. He quickened his pace, jumping down some steps. Another bullet passed him, this time just a hair’s breadth away from his ear. He felt the blood trickle down his neck, but did not stop in his momentum.

He was finally reaching the end of the stairs. The door to the parking lot was just a few steps down now. He tried to dodge the bullets that now rained down on him. Suddenly, Joseph felt a sharp pain in his left arm. He clasped his right hand over the left arm, to feel a liquid ooze out between his fingers. ‘Blood’, he mentally registered.

The attackers were closing in on him, he knew. The footsteps were frenetically climbing down the stairs behind him. He jumped down the last few steps and pushed open the door to the parking lot. Joseph winced at the sharp pain that ran down his arm with the impact. Surprisingly, the steps had stopped. It didn’t seem the pursuers were following.

Not losing a second, he rushed forward to where he knew his car waited. As he reached the inconspicuous black sedan, he fumbled in his pocket for his car keys. His fingers finally closed around the metal object and he quickly unlocked his vehicle and slid in. Just as he put the ignition on, a bullet shattered one of the back windows. His predators had resumed the man-hunt.

He changed gears and dexterously drove out of his parking space. As he swerved his vehicle towards the exit, his headlights shone on a dark silhouette. Or rather, numerous dark silhouettes that seemed to be surrounding him. ‘The Agency’s special squad!’ Joseph exclaimed mentally.

He had never thought to be up against the FSA, the Agency he had devoted himself to for all these years. Why did they want him dead now? Who was pulling the strings? The Commander? No, it couldn’t be her. He remembered the deferent tone of Commander Bozeman during the recorded phone call. Who could be behind all this?

Joseph felt the fear overwhelm him completely. He was one man against an organisation with the most well-trained soldiers. How would he get out of this situation? ‘For now, answers would have to wait,’ he decided, as he made a u-turn and accelerated towards the opposite end of the parking lot. The bullets rained on his car. After a couple of sharp turns, he had lured all his enemies behind him and headed straight for the exit. He stepped on the accelerator and at last reached the road leading out of the premises.

-

The blood from his bullet wound had soaked his shirt and the driver’s seat. Joseph ignored the pain that was coursing through his arm and drove as fast as the car’s engine would allow. He needed to put some distance between him and the Agency. He was sure they would not dare attack him here, where any member of the public could witness them. Joseph silently thanked the Heavens for the secrecy the FSA lived under.

He was grateful for the minimum traffic, since it meant he could cover more grounds in less time. But his energy was draining out of him. The pain, coupled with the fear was sapping his energy. He needed to find a place to rest. His flat was out of question; it would be the first place the Agency would look for. As he passed by a non-descript motel, the idea struck him. He drove into the decrepit establishment’s parking lot and got down of his car.

He pushed open the door to the reception, where a drunk-looking fat man lazily looked up from what looked like a porn mag.

“Whatcha want?” the man demanded, taking in the blood soaked appearance of Joseph.

“A room please,” Joseph could finally voice out, through the veil of pain.

“Here ya go. We pay in cash here, no credit cards,” the man told Joseph as he handed him a key from his greasy fingers.

Joseph fished out some notes from his wallet and handed them to the man, who pointed down the hallway.

Room 32. Room 32. Joseph mentally called as he scanned the door plates.

“Room 32, there it is,” he said to himself as he inserted his key and opened the door.

What greeted him was a dismal room which seemed to be covered with more than a layer of grime. Sinking down on the bed, he pulled up his sleeves to see the wound’s state. It was looking as bad as could be and needed urgent treatment. For now, he could only stop the blood by a make-shift tourniquet.

Just as he was done, he felt his phone vibrate. He fished it out of his pocket.

Unlisted Number.

Apprehensive, he took the call, and listened,

“I see you’re safe, Lieutenant Clay,” said the familiar male voice.

“Who are you?” asked Joseph.

“Who I am is of no importance. You’ll know that in due time. I’m sure there are far more important things you want to ask me...”

“Who were they? Why is FSA hunting me? What happened there?” Joseph demanded in a breath.

“Barbara Toller and Adam Mallery. They were new recruits at the FSA. The Antartica Mission was their first. They had been sent there under the pretence of possible terrorist activity.”

“But, there should have been nothing there. I was just told to check on the relay base here. There shouldn’t have been anyone there!”

“It was all in the Agency’s plans. The recruits were in fact guinea pigs for the FSA to test their new weapon: unmanned fighting automatons. The experience proved a success, it would seem. But one thing was preventing it from being a perfect success and that was you! You had witnessed something that compromised the FSA’s interests. They could not let you live, for fear of having their dark designs revealed.”

Joseph could not believe his ears. It was a scenario straight from a sci-fi spy movie.

“Lieutenant Clay, you’re up against enemies far more powerful than you can imagine. Are you sure you want to uncover the whole truth?” and the line went dead.

Joseph slowly put down the phone. He knew what he was deciding was pure suicide; but he needed to dispel the shadows and discover the whole truth. He was the hunter turned hunted, and his death never seemed so imminent...