Small Matters

[Flippity-Floosy]

Hi, I'm the person who has who like five things I gotta finish but have been so behind on because my work-life balance is utter trash. Let me get a muse out while I still get them because my passion is fickle so I gotta get them out when I'm interested the most.

Enjoy!

------

Prologue: The Witching Hour

October 8th, 3:37 am

There were countless things that tended to happen in a blink of an eye.

Tripping down the stairs after one single misstep, a sudden car crash while driving down the road, a gunshot ringing out without any time to get away… all in the space it takes for an eyelid to encapsulate your view in that minuscule fraction of a second. With no warning, no time to prepare, no wits about to comprehend in that moment when one’s life jettisons right under some hapless person’s feet like a proverbial cosmic trapdoor. No rhyme nor reason to lead up to seemingly impossible events.

Well, at least, this should have been an impossible event. There was nothing “seemingly” about this.

Because in one moment, Ivy went from tiredly ambling down a grimy, trash-strewn alleyway after working doubles at Frank’s 24-Hour Fitness Gym (on a day she was supposed to be off no less), and then the next moment, she was suddenly in a concrete canyon, almost knee deep in sewage water with a dented aluminium Pepsi can that was as big as a hay bale laying right in front of her.

Ivy considered herself to be a lot of things.

Perpetually broke was one thing. A college dropout after having to leave school due to her parents dying in an unfortunate car crash thanks to a reckless driver who had one absinthe drink too many, leaving her neck deep in debt from college loans, bills, funeral costs and rent, among other things, robbed her of any semblance of financial stability. Didn’t help she learned that her former roommate was ready to leave the apartment when she caught her and her on-and-off boyfriend what’s-his-name making the beast with two backs in her bed. Not the best sight to have ingrained in her head when Annie went about how they had done enough soul searching and were ready to elope to Las Vegas because hell if she knew why her ex-roomie had shit tastes in men. All she knew was that her lease was almost up and she barely had enough money to scrape to make a McDonalds meal last two days. Still beat the days when she had the sweet taste of tissue served as her breakfast when money got especially tight.

Tired was another thing. Physically, emotionally, and mentally. Working at two dead-end jobs at a run down, almost bankrupt gym as a clerk and custodian and whatever is needed left her exhausted and listlessly bored. Rent was up, and her measly pay of minimum wage of course wouldn’t cut it, so when she picked up a second job at a deli, her free time instantly vanished. From sunup to sundown, she was working. With sixty to seventy hour work weeks (sprinkled with the occasional eighty hour week) becoming the norm, she’d sometimes smuggle one of the Monster drinks from the gym’s minifridge or take a double shot of espresso from the back office. She was sure she was magnificently screwing up her liver and kidneys, but without some form of liquid energy, there was no way she was going to make it through a day of entitled customers who didn’t grasp that she rung up the cash registers and didn’t make the sandwiches, perverted old men flirting with her as though they were old enough to be her grandfather, a micromanaging boss who had the alien notion that she should somehow be able preemptively know why the soap dispensers empty even though she had literally just started her shift two minutes in, among other things. She had been told by her parents to “not make work her life,” but easier said than done when they had left the mortal coil while she was still dealing with the oh so bountiful hardships of the living.

And of course, she considered herself supremely unfortunate

Figuratively speaking, a simple tiny cog in the ever turning machine of a capitalist society, and a mote in the macrocosm of the universe. A definite glass half empty kind of view of the world, she supposed, but hey, the world still inexorably turned at its steady pace while her shambles of a life had continued to spiral and spiral, careening out of control like the car that took the lives of her parents. At twenty-six years old, where most of her friends had gone on to get careers they were passionate about, find the love of their lives, and make a name for themselves, she was left behind in the dust. She was about to be on the verge of homelessness, had no more family to speak of, and the one time she had thought she had found love, she discovered via text that he was a two-timing prick who was already in a relationship with his high school sweetheart the day right after Valentines Day.

On top of becoming an orphan and scraping for cash, she found herself feeling small most days. Like the puniest, pathetic little nothing to be found.

Well, figuratively speaking, that had been the case.

Because now, inexplicably, she was literally the puniest person in the world, somehow going from a solid five-foot-six to the size of a Polly Pocket out of nowhere.

Her purse slunk out of her slackened hand and right into the water.

She didn’t comprehend it at first that she was small. The initial bout of confusion that swept over her and left her stupefied had made her think she had suddenly just got teleported to an alien landscape or before the more logical answers in line with Occam’s Razor such as her making a wrong turn or that her mind was playing tricks on her. It was hard to tell.

After several seconds of her mind trying and failing to piece together what she was seeing, she took her glasses off and wiped them with the bottom of her shirt before placing them back on her face. The same view was still there, clear as… well, not quite day but still awfully clear.

The brick walls of what was a Korean-owned convenience store and the out-of-business orthopedic clinic now rose impossibly high into the sky, veritable concrete buildings the size of mountains from her perspective. The trashcan strewn about the ground with the pungent smell of mildew and ammonia that assailed her nostrils and seeped into the runoff puddle below her was now the size of a grain silo, with the pieces of litter like ripped up receipts and a drenched, partially eaten sandwich that was halfway wrapped in tinfoil now as big as a blanket and king-sized bed respectively.

The ripples and cracks in the asphalt ground were the size of potholes, with the ground rougher under her tennis shoes than it should have been. The chips in the brickwork, grout and mortar were also considerable in size, with some large enough for her to even put her hand or head into the gaps.

The ubiquitous white noise of car engines of passing vehicles and loud music of the clubs and bars in the distance, while still sounding far away, were magnified in volume like a concert a block away or construction machines at work.

The very air was much cooler, she noted absently, before the negligible breeze that barely made her bristle had instantly morphed into a formidable wind that made her stumble forward, almost knocking her off her feet and into the puddle before she caught herself in a crab stance.

Trudging out the rank-smelling pond and onto the jagged asphalt that was littered with pieces of glass ranging from the size of hunting knives to a tractor shovel, her confusion started to evolve into fear as her eyes frantically began to look around at the now gigantic alleyway that could encase an entire city block, everything looming at unbelievable heights over her. Panic began to grip her rapidly-beating heart and as she took unsteady steps forward at a world that was quite literally at large.

So when a rhythmic vibration began to jolt beneath her feet, the pounding of thunderous footsteps that made the ground itself shudder, she didn’t know exactly which direction to turn to and run until a massive shadow engulfed her and most of the layout of the land, right before two enormous, black dress boots the size of trucks crashed down on both sides of her.

She swiveled around so quickly she almost tripped over her own feet before she looked up…and up… and up at a white masked-face that was bearing down at her from on high, eyes bigger than her head coldly examining her with muted interest, as though waiting for a response. Like a predator waiting for its prey to run.

Which was exactly what she did when a guttural scream erupted from her throat and she turned back around to run as fast as her legs to carry her, a primordial fear seizing her heart.

She didn’t get any further than a foot.

The giant, belied by his relative immense size, moved swiftly. Like a building folding in on himself, he dropped to a crouch so fast, a gust of displaced air from the movement nearly bowled her over, before a huge dark gloved hand shot forward blocked her way like a wall materializing from out of nowhere. She crashed directly into it, bouncing off the palm before falling on her bottom. She was only down for all of a second before she scrambled back to her feet to run the other way, getting as far as five steps before a second hand came down from above and blocked her path.

With a shriek, she turned once more, rushing through the funneling gap where his fingers were held apart and took off in a frenzied run, screaming the entire way through as she tried to put as much space between her and the giant man that was now standing up to his full imposing height.

He didn’t move immediately, simply watching her sprint for all she was worth for about twenty or so seconds before he finally decided to leisurely pursue her, the ground quaking under each step he took.

She looked back briefly to see him coming after she felt the asphalt rumble underneath her and howled in terror, picking up the pace as she adrenaline pumped through her veins and her vision began to tunnel.

Then a massive cacophony of sound made her ears ring, startling her to almost stop as the building-sized trashcan that initially been on the side of the alleyway had bounced and rolled in front about a relative ten feet in front of her, blocking her view of the other side of the open alleyway and hindering her escape.

She was about to try to run around it before the massive foot stomped down hard right beside her, the impact tremor making her fall back in fright, followed by the other boot crashing down on her other side.

Her hands were covered in grime and scrapes as she gracelessly crab-walked away from the giant man, teeth gnashed tightly in horror as she backed away as much as she could against the rough, uneven ground until her back hit the metal, convex wall behind her, leaving her trapped between what might as well have been a wall and her pursuer.

She trembled violently as she looked up to the immense stoic mask that hid the true face of the giant who towered over her.

Tears trickled down her face as she found herself in a frightening stare-down with her pursuer, his eyes beheld her in a steady chilled gaze that made her insides crawl as she could barely stave off the panic attack that was threatening to overcome her.

With quivering lips, all she could utter was a silent, terrified plea. “Pl… Pl… Please…”

Whether the giant heard her or not, she didn’t know.

But it didn’t seem to matter when the immense figure had stooped down, and began to reach down towards her, his giant outstretched hand blocking out the light of the moon as the encroached upon her.

Her eyes were wide in the darkness as that massive hand began to wrap around her, and she found herself unable to scream.

[DocRick]

Love your writing style. Flows smoothly with just the right amount of details to paint the picture in the reader's mind.

At least, in my mind.

[Flippity-Floosy]

Love your writing style. Flows smoothly with just the right amount of details to paint the picture in the reader's mind.

At least, in my mind.

I can't tell you how much I absolutely ADOOOORE this! Thank you!

And thanks for the compliment! Sometimes I'm a little too detail oriented, so I'm glad I cut back just enough to not go overboard!

[Flippity-Floosy]

Chapter 1.1: A Little Debriefing

October 11, 8:02 am, Horizon City Precinct 12

Detective Calliope Baros, or “Callie” as she preferred to go by when off the clock, was only functioning this morning due her practically inhaling double shots of the temporary grand panacea known as espresso after having to wake up at the at the ungodly hour of 4:37 am, not even the ass crack of dawn before she finally willed herself to not press the snooze button for the umpteenth time.

The problem with coffee; however, was that when it eventually wears off, it takes you to the verge of crashing hard. Hence why she was now barely staving off sleep with another mug of instant coffee. Weaker than espresso, and far cheaper in quality, but of course, police stations weren’t particularly known for quality drinks.

Either way, the fatigue must have been evident on her face since the moment she walked into the conference room as the final attendee and closed the frosted glass door, Officer George Luiz had felt the need to comment on it. “Wow. Since when did the panda escape the zoo?”

Of course he had remarked about the dark circles under her eye. She let out a derisive snort. “Apparently, around the same time the hippo escaped as well.”

Officer Luiz gave a short laugh. Others would've taken offense to such an insult, but Luiz and Callie went way back, back when she was just a mere fledgling of an officer and he had already been a seasoned vet who had occasionally taken her under his wing. A grizzled white middle-aged man with a noticeable paunch, only a couple years away from retiring, Luiz could take it as well as he could dish it out, and always had a laugh or two to spare.

“You look like shit, Baros,” Luiz told her, as he took his spot at the table.

She took another swig of her coffee before taking a spot next to him and Officer Dubois. “And wouldn’t you know it, I feel like it too.”

There were about eight officers now at the table chatting among themselves, with Captain James Miller at the helm, preparing the projection screen and board. On the desks laid the paper files of the case, and a bottle of water for each attendee. Out the window on the far side of the room, above the high rises and skyscrapers of Horizon City, the sky was filled with dark, brooding clouds. She grimaced; they'd called for rain, and she didn’t recall if she had packed her umbrella in her car or not.

“One of those mornings?”

“One?” She squinted in irritation before shaking her head. “More like every morning since the end of September. Wouldn’t have been so bad if it had only been one morning and my fucking neighbors above me didn’t ‘try so hard’ to give their son another sibling.”

“Ah…” he caught her drift, and immediately let out a small chuckle. “Well, consider it the joys of youth.”

She rolled her eyes. “Please, I really don’t need the mental imagery first thing in the morning.”

It was bad enough that the ever present sound of the bed creaking nonstop was followed by moans and grunts with the interspersed “Oh yes! Oh please! Harder!” and all kinds of sounds that robbed her of her sleep. She was tempted to go upstairs, flash her badge and let the married couple know that they were too damn loud at 1:00 o’clock in the morning, or at the very least let her landlord know about how “active” the couple above her was, but she was already slated to move in two months. And unlike Mister and Missus Jefferson, Callie actually did like their ten-year-old son, Francis, enough to not make a scene with his parents.

Then again, the idea of their underaged son possibly being able to hear his parents nightly sessions made her kind of feel ill if that was the case.

“Now that everybody’s here, I think it’s safe to say we can get started,” came Captain Miller’s baritone voice that cut through the chatter with easy authority. A tall black man with a muscular build and a wealth of experience, he commandeered the attention of the eight in an instant.

He snapped his fingers and the room darkened and the holographic projector immediately came to life, an image of a young, brown-haired woman flashing out into thin air as a series of data rolled next to her profile. Her eyes were a deep blue and her hair was long and a bit curly and she vaguely reminded Callie of Winona Ryder back in the 80s.

“Good morning, it looks like we have a possible special case on our hands.” He gestured to the floating image between the tables.

“Ivy Ramona Banks,” he started. “Age twenty-six, birthday on June 12, works as both a cashier at Robert’s Deli and an attendant at Frank’s Fitness gym. Orphaned at age twenty and has no other living family members to speak of. Her supervisor at the deli called for a wellness check on her when she didn’t show up for work yesterday.”

“A bit early to call for a wellness check, don’t you think?” groused the resident forensics specialist Officer Emilio Ortiz, a hispanic man with short curly brown hair and greenish-brown hazel eyes and a beauty mark right by under his right eye.

“Ordinarily yes,” Miller answered testily, “But according to her coworkers at both of her jobs, it was known that she had been dealing with several tough situations on her own and a few of them believed that she might have taken… drastic measures.”

It wasn’t unheard of for a friend, coworker or family member to have a call for a cop to check on their loved one, only to find them already overdosed or with a bullet in their skull. Unfortunately, Callie had came across a few cases like that in her time, and it was never any easier when she saw a body of one who decided to leave the earth on their own terms too early.

“Either way, when two of our guys showed up, her place was trashed beyond belief with obvious signs of a break-in.” he grabbed the stencil from the table and scrolled up to the next picture of a small apartment that had been reduced to an interior wreck, a wooden desk broken apart into splinters, her twin-sized mattress hanging off the bed frame, her dresser toppled over with clothes spilling out over the carpet floor, and broken silverware and trash littered on practically every surface.

Callie’s eyes narrowed. It went without saying, someone had been deliberately searching for her. No doubt with malicious intent.

“Could it have been a boyfriend or a jealous ex?” asked Officer Reagan Everett, the only other woman besides Callie in the division. “Because this has bad breakup written all over it.”

“That was our first suspicion, but according to everyone who knew her, she was a bachelorette.” Miller clarified. “We contacted her last boyfriend, Quincy Billiard, who has a solid alibi. Being that he was on the opposite side of the country with his fiancee at the time of her suspected disappearance. According to him, he hasn’t been in contact with Ivy for over two years. And from what all of our sources tell, she hasn’t been in a relationship ever since.”

“What about her roomie? Any intel on her?” asked Officer Luiz, the only one who had seemed to gleam at the paper files on hand.

“Her former roommate Annie Porter née Williams, from what we gather, is in Vegas with her husband, Zachary Porter. We haven’t informed her that her former roommate is missing.”

“Stalker maybe? Like a coworker or, I dunno, a friend maybe?” offered Officer Jackson McNeil, a rugged man with a solid square jaw, a bald head and stout build. “Pretty women like that tend to get a scary audience.”

“When we interrogated the people at both her worksites, everyone seemed to have an airtight alibi. Either everyone was working or asleep around that time, with evidence showing that Ivy didn’t particularly spend a lot of time with friends due to her working for long hours.”

“So, we’re dealing with the classic stranger danger kinda situation it looks like.”

Miller’s mouth thinned to a line. “If only it were a classic kind,” his voice beheld a certain gravitas that indicated that a lot was at play than they thought. “No, this is where thing’s get pretty muddy.”

He used the stencil again and the holographic image melded itself into something else, a blue-gridded building in the shape of a massive glass spire that towered over the light-emitted diorama.

“At about 0600 hours, on October 9th, we received word that one of the Ignatious-Reed’s H.A.Ds detected some abnormal activity between 3:30 and 4:30 am around the Huxton Ward of the city.”

It was like the air had been sucked out of the room in a heartbeat. The atmosphere had changed, and all but one officer suddenly felt the gravity of the situation.

“Ignatious-Reed what now?” the young and naive Xavier Charles-Fountain, a young redheaded man who had just leveled up from grunt work to a true officer, asked with a squint of an eye.

“The city’s H.A.D’s device.” Officer Ortiz informed gravely. “Best one in the country.”

Officer Charles-Fountain looked like he wanted to ask more but Captain Miller continued. “Perhaps not coincidentally, that was around the same time that Ivy had left work to return home. At most, it’s about a fifteen minute walk from her job to her apartment, and according to the H.A.D, her suspected path of returning seems to coincide with the level location of where Hex Activity was detected.

Callie suddenly grew cold like ice water had just been splashed on her. Now she was very awake, and very alert.

“That, along with the fact that this is the third read out we’ve received of a similar cases taken place both 29 days on September 9th with Dao Anong and back in August 11th with Evelyn Hart, the pattern has become a bit more clear…”

“A full moon…” whispered Everett as cold realization dawn on her. “That means…”

“That’s right…” Miller confirmed everyone’s worries at the sheer magnitude of what entailed with this particular case.

Although everyone knew the answer, including Callie who felt a wave of dread sweep over her, hearing the words come out his mouth made her stomach shrivel up.

“We’re dealing with a Witch.”

[DocRick]

I can't tell you how much I absolutely ADOOOORE this! Thank you!

And thanks for the compliment! Sometimes I'm a little too detail oriented, so I'm glad I cut back just enough to not go overboard!

Glad you liked it. Just happened to stumble across the "dented Pepsi can in the alley" picture and you didn't give much of a description of her clothing, other than a shirt and glasses.

And in Chapter 1.1, you forgot to mention donuts. As a retired cop of thirty years, I can vouch that there are always donuts.

[ensmallen]

Nice work. This looks great.

[Tankerman]

poor Ivy from the witching story. she was already struggling in life to just get even worse by a robber that stole her already miserable life literally stolen from her by taking her height

[Flippity-Floosy]

Sorry for the super late responses! Thank you guys for the compliments! Poor Ivy and indeed. And just a heads up, there's gonna be a bit of build up before we get to more of the SW meat-and-potatoes portion of the story. Just hang tight, I hope to make it worth the ride!

Also, don't worry! Donuts will be donuting! (@)

Chapter 1.2: All About Witches

22 years ago

“Pretty…”

“Huh? What is?”

“The sky… y’know, when it's snowing?”

“I guess… I don’t like the snow.”

“Really?”

“Yeah… it snows all the time where I was from. It’s always cold and your feet feel super wet when you finally get inside a warm place.”

“That’s because you need better boots.”

“My mom got me these boots.”

“But your feet still get wet and cold.”

“They’re still my boots.”

“But they don’t work.”

“They’re my boots.”

“Okay, okay… I was just trying to help.”

Silence.

“Y’know, my dad used to tell me that no snowflake is the same, but… I don’t believe it.”

“Why not?”

“Because there’s just so much! Like… a billion times a billion times a gazillion snowflakes out there.”

“I think that’s just a saying grown ups say to mean everybody’s special.”

“I mean yeah, but, there’s so many people that look alike too. And twins are like clones!”

“But a girl in my class has a twin and she has a mole on her face, but her twin doesn’t.”

“Yeah, but if it wasn’t there, she’d still look alike you know.”

“I mean… I guess.”

“It’s like… I dunno, what’s that thing they call it? A doppler? A dop… dop-something.”

“Doppleganger?”

“Yeah, that.”

“Yeah, like… if there’s enough snowflakes, then you’ll find one that’s just like the other!”

“It’d literally take forever though! And snow melts.”

“Not if you freeze time.”

“It’d still take a bajillion years. Everybody’d be dead by then.”

“Yeah… but I’d look for those two snowflakes if I had bajillion years.”

“Why though? That’d get like… really, really boring.”

“Not if you think of it like a game!”

“Games get boring if you play it for too long though.”

“But what if there was a super cool prize?”

“What kind of prize would be worth a gazillion years of looking for a snowflake?”

“You mean a bajillion years.”

“Whatever. I’m pretty sure a gazillion is waaaaay bigger than a bajillion.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yeah huh.”

“Let’s… let’s just go with a bajillion, okay?”

“Okay, okay… but seriously, like… what kind of prize?”

“I mean… it would be a super cool prize. Like a superpower or getting a chance to grant a really nice wish!”

“Isn’t living for that long kind of a superpower?”

“Yeah, but its not really a super superpower.”

“I’d rather have a wish…”

“...actually, yeah… me too.”

Silence.

“So… what would you wish for?”

“Huh?”

“You said that you’d rather get a wish than a superpower. So… what would you wish for?”

Silence.

“I dunno? Maybe for unlimited wishes.”

“But what if that’s seen as cheating?”

“I mean… if a genie said that yeah, but we don’t know if it's a genie or something granting the wish or not.”

“Well, I’d wish for world peace and all that stuff.”

“Everybody wishes for world peace.”

“Yeah, because we need it.”

“True.”

Silence.

“Hey…”

“Yeah?”

“I think I know what I’d wish for now.”

“Ooh, what is it?”

“First you gotta promise me you won’t ask why I wish for it.”

“Why?”

“I just told you to not ask!”

“No, I mean… I’m not gonna laugh or anything! I promise!”

“I… don’t think you’ll laugh if you hear my wish.”

“Is it a bad wish?”

“Just… promise me you won’t ask why or bring it up again. Please?”

“But… oh fine, I promise.”

“You pinkie promise?”

“Yes, I pinkie promise.”

“And you gotta promise you won’t tell anybody! Not even your mom and dad!”

“Fine! I promise I won’t tell my parents or to bring it up or to ask why and whatever! I just wanna hear your wish!”

“...Alright, just remember, you promised.”

“I promised already. Now c’mon and tell me, what’s your wish?”

Silence.

“I wish… I really wish…

A deep breath.

“...that people like me were never born.”

—------

Witches.

Or, as many others also called them, hexes or hexenmeisters.

Simply put, they were individuals who possessed supernatural abilities that fluctuated with the phases of the moon.

Their infamy had dated back from 1962 in West Germany, when one such hexenmeister had turned seven people inside out and had pinned the inverted bodies to the Berlin Wall for all to see on one cold winter day, but they had speculated to come into fruition ever since the day of the eclipse half a decade before then..

The existence of such beings were speculated to have arisen on the day of the Red Moon on May 13, 1957, when a nude man had ran through the city streets of Munich, shouting that he could hear the voices of the countless dead, over and over, until the populace had finally had enough and an officer had beaten him down and dragged him to prison.

From what history said, the man continued to shout and scream that he could hear and converse with the dead, over and over. So much so that his fellow inmate had beaten him within an inch of his life until he had mentioned something about his assailer’s mother, which had startled the inmate into believing them.

Upon the guards coming to him, the man would answer questions that no inmate should have known, with more and more prisoners and guards coming to him until the warden himself had to bear witness to the man’s declarations.

Released from prison, the man who would come to be known by his pseudonym was “Josef,” reminiscent of the man in the Bible who had received visions from God and who would regale his prophecies in the prison, the man had been moved from prison to a facility for examination and questioning.

When researchers questioned him about certain people, from strangers to their own family members, “Josef” answered them, with his responses confirmed as truth.

What happened next, nobody would know as only Germany’s top brass would allow access to such information.

What would be known was that “Josef” would be far from the only one of his “kind” to have somehow obtained abilities that could be classified as nothing short of “supernatural.”

A woman who could see through walls when she looked hard enough.

A child who could turn invisible when he held his breath.

A man who could use telekinesis to move cars, animals and even people.

They were rare, perhaps around one in 500,000 people, which left thousands, perhaps tens of thousands who possessed such abilities on the planet, hiding among the populace for those who weren't registered, policed and monitored. Maybe many, much more. People who could manipulate the very way the world worked in ways that were unexplainable to science. The strength of the abilities tied to the phase of the moon, with witches at their strongest during a full moon.

These people were powerful in ways that it was hard to believe they were even real.

And soon their threat would be known with the 1973 incident Sino-Russian incident known as opustoshennaya zemlya, or the “Voided Earth” incident

During the Sino-Soviet Split, a single man of unidentifiable national origin, theorized to have been Russian from what very little was known, had been discovered to be a hexenmeister by a little girl.

When a team had been sent out to capture him, he had fought back with his single ability that had wiped out a portion of eastern Kazakhstan, numerous mountains of the Tian Shan, and the city of Kashi all in the span of a minute, a gigantic expanding dome of complete darkness engulfing everything that it touched that blotted out the sun.

A geological gap of a crater over 500 kilometers in size, bigger than the Grand Canyon by nearly a half, that took millions of lives, including the one responsible, with it. Nothing remained, but a topographical hole in the Earth that could be viewed from space, single handedly caused by one man.

Such a phenomenon on such an unbelievable and devastating scale had spearheaded an all-international ceasefire, if only temporary, to focus on the bigger threat now at hand: the Witches

A global initiative developed by the world leaders at the United Nations led to the inception of numerous countermeasures against the small population that potentially held such immense power. The engineering of devices that could detect their output of abnormal energies, allowing for them to be tracked and detected, as well as weapons and suppressants that could subdue rogue witches that abused their power on unsuspecting victims.

And of course, to keep the peace, the existence of such beings had to be kept underwraps.

Strict gag orders and hush money kept knowledge of them hidden to the vast majority of the general populace, and the few who knew, the soldiers and special forces that would be trained to fight them should the need arise, needed special clearance before such information came to their knowledge.

Even the gaping hole in the earth where many cities and landmarks had once resided had been deemed as an experimental nuclear missile that had inexplicably exploded in its silo, a failure on the Soviet military’s part.

But even so, while civilians didn’t know the specificities of the existence of such people, people could sense something was going on. Whether they believed it to be aliens or ghosts at play, the rumors would run rampant to explain away things that seemed to make absolutely no sense. But, as Callie believed, let the people believe whatever they want.

What held precedence, as a black ops agent of this city, was protecting them from the witches who possibly stalked the streets and blended into society until they chose to strike.

Particularly in this ostensible case with one rogue witch possibly being behind the case of the missing women around the city.

Callie’s fist was clenched tightly under the table, her nails digging into the skin of her palm.

She knew firsthand the danger that witches possessed, and just how brutal and ruthless they were capable of with such power left to run amuck.

The thought she would have to face another one after that day made her skin crawl and her chest burn with a blazing hatred she hadn’t felt in so long.

Those once kind brown eyes shifting to an ethereal gold…

A flare of wind and snow blinded, a solid white encapsulating everything…

Forever trenched in her memories.

As she simmered in her quiet fury, the others talked about the matter at hand.

“We-he-heeeeeell… shit.” Ortiz said with mock laughter. “Ain’t that a bitch?”

“Hold on, now…” was the hesitant reply from Charles-Fountain. Of all the people in the room, he was the least versed in the way of the superpowered beings, having only learned about them roughly three months ago. “I’m confused. Are you absolutely sure that Ivy girl really encountered a witch? Can’t it just be a coincidence?”

“It could be,” offered Officer Dullas, a bespectacled blonde haired, blue-eyed officer with a scar over the bridge of his nose, contrasting against a rather handsome face. His expression was filled with deep consternation, “But when a H.A.D has a read, you always know you got one of them damn hexes on the prowl.”

“It’ll also explain why we got no hide nor hair of any of these girls as well,” Everett added as he crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “It’s one thing to pick people off the street, but another when you got Merseburg particles on radar each time they go missing.” He grunted. “Kinda mad I.R. didn’t give us this readout earlier, would’ve helped out a helluva lot when we were searching for these girls.”

“The H.A.D works good, but it ain’t perfect. It can only detect particles when it reaches a certain amount, usually on a half, quarters and full moons. Doesn’t help that Huxton has a Hex research facility that throws everything off.” replied Miller with a sneer. “Probably realized they had a rogue in the works to send this out to us.”

“Belatedly, don’t you think?” growled McNeil, bemused.

“Bureaucracy is a pain in the ass.” complained Everett, “Those in I.R. are so fucking tightlipped. Even Mayor Schwartzwald has to go hoops to get access to whatever shit’s going down in that center.”

“It’s more than that,” explained Luiz, “The Feds got a hefty lid on what goes behind those doors. I won’t be surprised if they knew beforehand what was going on but let us in on it if they believe some more intel's in danger of being leaked.”

“Especially if it has something to do with the Huxton Facility,” said Williams contemplatively. “Not a good look if you have a brand new facility in operation for only two years and you get a reading from the outside.”

“If it's their fugitive or a random rogue, it doesn’t change the fact that we’ve got a damn doozy of a case on our hands, so much so that even the commissioner's sending someone over to help us with the investigation.”

“Sending someone…?” That roused Callie from her dark thoughts and silent anger. She asked aloud, “Just who are they sending?”

Miller’s mouth was a tight frown now. “Apparently, they think more’s going on than what we thought. So, they’re sending an agent from Hexenjagd.”

The air was sucked out from the room at the sheer mention of the organization.

“No way…” Callie whispered in stunned disbelief.

“Are they fucking serious!?” Ortiz almost shouted, far more animated. “They think this kinda thing warrants having one of those fucking freakshows over here!?”

“Oh god, I’m gonna sound like an idiot but… what’s Hex…Hexen… what you had said before?”

All eyes turned to Charles-Fountain, eyes narrowed sharply with disbelief. The youthful officer's face flushed with embarrassment and unease.

McNeil scowled at him. “You’ve been on this team for how long?”

“Don’t be an ass and cut him some slack,” chastised Everett, pointedly ignoring the glare the older man shot her after her reprimand. “Ain’t no way a new recruit usually gets to hear about the Big H when they’ve been on the hush-hush for two years.”

Miller turned to Charles-Fountain, “Hexanjagd,” he clarified, “Black ops division. They’re witch hunters. Top of the line too. Specialize in making sure nothing about the witches doesn't come to the light of day and take down witches even SWAT teams don’t mess with. Interpol’s got them stationed in a bunch of countries, but they’re mainly in Germany.”

“Funny how you forgot to mention that like seventy-percent of the people that make it up are witches themselves.” Ortiz snorted.

Charles-Fountain’s head whipped towards Ortiz, eyes wide. “What?”

Miller huffed, giving Ortiz a look that cowed him slightly. “I was getting to that. But thanks for assuming that I don’t know jack-diddly shit.” Then he turned back to the younger officer. “But yes. The majority of their agents are witches themselves.”

“Now, hold on…” Luiz said, raising a pudgy hand. “Hope I’m not sounding insensitive here but something’s not adding up. I know there’s a high possibility we’re dealing with a witch, and that those girls gone missing need to get found, but… don’t you think it’s a bit much to send a Hunter for something as relatively small-time as this? Usually they don’t send an agent unless they think some city’s gonna get blown up. Not some ladies disappearing off the street.”

“I thought so too,” conceded Miller, “but apparently the brass thinks more going on underneath the surface. Especially since they suspect this incident is tied with others outside Horizon with the number of missing people. Including that researcher What’s-Her-Name that went missing three years ago.”

“Talking about Yasnim Astarabadi?” offered Everett with excellent recollection. She'd always been good with remembering names. “They think her disappearance ties into this?”

“They suspect. Don’t know for sure.” Miller clicked and the hologram shifted once more, now in the shape of a building. “All we know is that this rogue’s got the eyes of the Hunters looking for them, and if we’re dealing with a problematic witch, they’re not taking their chances.”

There was a bout of silence, with the sound of the gentle hum of the holographic projection and the sound of a jet passing overhead.

With a quick flick of the wrist, Miller shut off the projector. “We’ll meet back here in fifteen. Make some time to look over the report again.”

Everyone got to a stand, ready to file out the room to either decompress with coffee or some air. Especially with the grand scheme of this particular case.

Before Callie could leave through the door’s threshold, she heard her name being called. “Hey Baros? Got a minute?”

Immediately, he had an idea on what her superior was going to talk to her about. Turning around, making sure her face was set in a stoic mask as she walked towards him and responded. “Sure.”

The chief at least had the decency to wait until everyone was already out of the room, neither of them noticing Luiz giving Calie a deeply concerned look before he went through the doors, and out of earshot, leaving just her and him in the room.

After a solid few seconds of saying nothing, he finally spoke, his eyes softer than usual. “You’ve been strangely quiet,” he commented. “You okay, Baros?”

“I’m fine,” she answered with a bit more haste than intended. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Miller hardly looked convinced. “Don’t try to put up a front, Baros. I’m not stupid. Be honest with me, do you want to sit this one out?”

She grimaced. “Not an option.”

“I’m giving you one.”

“I–” she started up indignantly, ready to argue, but stopped herself. She couldn’t allow herself to get visibly worked up. “I promise, chief. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure,” he asked assertively. “I’m asking because I know this hits close to home for you. And I can’t have you losing it out there on the field.”

“Do I look that high-strung to you, chief?”

“No, but the last guy I knew who had a score to settle with a witch went apeshit. People lose it when it gets personal.”

“Then you can relax,” she said, making sure her eyes didn’t waver from his. “They already captured the witch that was responsible back then. Trust me. It’s strictly business here.”

That seemed to put Miller at ease. “Alright… if that's what you say.” He positioned himself to leave the room. “Just… don’t make yourself a liar.”

“You’re worried over nothing, chief.” she replied, a wan smile across her lips. “I signed up for this, didn’t I? You gotta trust me.”

Chief Miller stared at her, and she could see the gears in his head shifting as though he was prepping up to say more, but he simply gave a noncommittal grunt and left the room, leaving her alone in the conference room.

She lets out a long winded sigh, the tension finally leaving her shoulders.

The room felt colder, colder than it should have been. Like the chill winds had entered through the tightly fixed windows.

Her right hand remained tightly balled by her side.

Only someone with a keen ear would have been able to detect the small whirring sound as each finger curled into one another. A keen eye would’ve detected how the colors of the flesh of the skin of her hand seemed slightly off in color and lacked the details of creases upon her knuckles. A keen touch would’ve felt the slightly rubbery carbon-fiber that almost perfectly masqueraded itself as organic in nature.

Alone, with the company of her thoughts, a memory managed to crawl out from the recesses of her mind.

“Don’t say that, ever again.”

“Why not?”

Her teeth gritted behind her closed lips, as the words she would forever regret saying to him echoed inside her head.

The words that would destroy the life she once had.

“Because I'm glad to have someone like you in my life.”