***
After hours on the road, after all the stops and tourist traps Sal forced her to go through, Calypso couldn’t help but to laugh in bemusement over the fact that their destination is a massive ditch. Not hyperbole.
As the cousins passed its city limit sign, as Sal pointed at it and needled Calypso about its population of 3.5k; Willow’s Reverie was a town founded within a crater. A calamity that was lost to time, but the effects made a literal mark on the landscape. The settlers had no other choice, as they made camp here and hoped for the best that things might get better.
Seeing the warm colors, the intricate structures, and the natural feel of the incoming town, Calypso felt that their hope paid off. A secluded paradise sandwiched between scenic seas and cliff face ridges.
It was… Very different. Buildings either being squared, or were rectangles glued to each other, or was just a colonial era landmark with a surface level refurbish. Fall-colored trees just strewn across the sidewalks, rivers that cut nonchalantly through roads… All these images suffocated by predominantly red brick. Well, brown bricks, yellow bricks, navy bricks and the black metal flourishes for gates and windows. Tied together with cobbled roads crested with greying sidewalks, old streetlamps dotted across them.
All of this, at an angle as well. San Francisco, but building around a sinkhole versus steep hills.
“So what we’re riding on is called the ‘Old Vessel’,” Sal drove a much slower pace. “—Or the ‘Main Vein’, which is cooler—”
“It’s good that you guys lean into the fact you’re unintentionally creepy,” Calypso interjected as she continued to look out her window.
“It’s homely and quint, ya’ drama queen,” Sal rolled her eyes, glancing at her cousin before fixing her gaze back at the road.
She shifted into a more causal, and comfortable position as she drove—leaning her chair back and her free arm hanging outside of her rolled down window. As she looked to her side, Sal suddenly got spirited in her movement, honking before waving.
Calypso eyes were wide, looking around, unable to peer out of Sal’s window to see. “Who’s waving at you—people wave at each other here--?!”
Sal looked back as her eyebrow was perked. “And people in NY don’t--?”
Calypso groaned as she sunk in her seat. “I have to meet people now…”
With that, Sal laughed uproariously, even stopping the car briefly to ease her mirth. And an petty and embittered Calypso that was moping could’ve sworn that her cousin shifted this laughter into an evil tone.
Quickly recovering, Sal resumed giving her informal tour, “Bu-hu-hu-t yeah, every street and bridge leads back here—it’s why we put ol’ Grand Standing Plaza in the middle of it all~ That’s where all the government and important shit’s at—also my future stompin’ ground~?”
Calypso snapped out of her moodiness to do a double take. “Say what--?”
Sal shrugged with a content smirk, “Iunno, it was a joke class I chose, that Political Science, and turns out I’m pretty good at understandin’ it~ Plus it’d be so funny, seein’ the farm gal be Mayor one day~ I mean, provided Ma and Paw manage to pry me away from the farm--”
“The smear campaigns will be loaded from top to bottom,” Calypso chuckled out, “And I’d provide them with most of the information—”
It was Calypso’s turn to be pushed at, while laughing with a playful sneer.
“Anyways, yeah—Crater Lake, Cornerstone Park, Port Acadia: no matter how different everythin’ is, from East Ward n’ West Ward, it’s aaaallll connected here. Remember that, when you eventually get lost,” Sal winked at her cousin.
“Yes Sally, because I’m totally going to get lost in a literal circle…” Calypso snarked drily, as her eyesight wondered off.
There was a slight ping of relief that washed away, at the sentiment. Like it would be better if she never learned landmarks, for the good of this place…
Sal continued on, but now Calypso was buried in her thoughts. What’s going on inside of her? This conflict manifesting into odd bouts of… Hysterical dread? And that’s not including her accelerating healing…
Repeated hospital visits showed that her blood was fine, her health was relatively fine. So it could stand to reason that the Monster isn’t back or growing inside of her, nor was there any visual effects from eating what’s left of it.
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
But that was the thing. Visual. Only visual and man-made sources.
If Alice could randomly find a book that changed the fate of their entire lives on a whim…
“Hey uhm…” Calypso was surprised at her dour tone, before coughing to right it. “Are there any bookstores around here?”
“Why didn’t ya’ ask when I literally talked about the strip, ya’ dum-dum--?” Sal needled.
“I zone out now, it comes with the psychosis—” Calypso then shrunk at Sal’s fixed glare at her comment, before finishing, “S-sorry, but really, I’d like to hit one up before we go to the farm…”
“We are on-route home, Cal—” Sal whined in response.
“Sally,” there was an element of being halfheartedness in Calypso’s stern cadence, to show that it was a semi-important thing to her, “Either you go there, then I ask your parents to go, and you drive back—or you do it now—”
“But we have to make a whole ass tuuuurn—”
“You will do it or I will invoke Full Name Ultimatum.”
Sal just gasped out, holding her heart with her free hand, looking at Calypso with widened eyes and her carefree façade broken.
“You wouldn’t—”
“I’m a boring young adult that likes to be proper, and your parents wouldn’t bat an eye at it. You know how much power I wield, here.”
Sal’s face crumbled into faux-despair, but very overt tiredness.
“Dammit, man…” Sal mewled out pathetically. “Fine, whatever girl…”
As she felt the shifts within the car, Calypso rubbed her hands together with the expression of an evil genius to match, enjoying wearing that hat despite the immediate wash of shame after moments like these.
But soon after, it turned into nervously tangling her fingers on top of each other as she bit her lip in concern. Letting her brow rise in anxiety as she felt the sweat acuminate, raising her hands to her mouth as both are balled fists.
Calypso had to get to the bottom of this. And fast.
***
“Annnnd, homeward bound! Y’know, again—”
Calypso had been tapping her fingers against the cover of the tome that rested on top of the other three, just to keep her restless mind busy. “Oh, uh, nice nice.”
Sal said something about “why do you like to read” or something along those lines. Calypso didn’t know anymore.
It was on the precipice of being unbearable, these mental breakdowns of hers. It took the worst aspect of an impending medical crisis. Moments where one feels fine despite the underlying pain, immediately followed by spikes of worryingly intensity that triggers the fight or flight response. “Stop kidding yourself, go to the ER, go to a country that fixes this—who cares, do anything, we’re dying”.
That’s what Calypso’s mind was screaming at her… About her own body. Every single thought she had, it was met with this primal scream of fear. Something was coming, something is too near, something is on the verge of hurting you, is hurting you, killing you… And it’s her. Get away… From herself.
There was no escaping it. Calypso could only freak out, hiding behind her mask that was slipping away inch by inch due to the sweat she’d been producing, and the manic expression she’s been locked in. All she needed was time alone, time to read, and hopefully there’s something after because the idea of this continuing is—
“—Hey um… There’s gonna be forest on the sides of this road…”
Calypso stiffened, only to find a worried Sal looking at her. Relaxing, softly shaking her head free of the ensnaring mental razor floss wrapped around her brain.
“N-no--?”
“Huh--?” Calypso asked in a hurry, trying to decode what Sal meant instantly.
“Do you wanna go somewhere else, or--?”
“No!” Calypso shouted, before immediately retracting, “N-no, uh… I’m fine, I’m good, let’s go, I can handle it…”
“Are ya’ sure?”
Calypso had to quickly bite down on her thumb. So she could not flip out on her only family that remotely stands her.
Calypso took a deep breath through her nose, before unclamping and raising her head away from the thumb, “Sal. Part of the process is facing the… Problem… Just trust me.”
“Alrighty…” Sal straightened her lips into a line, looking forward, tightening her hold on the wheel as she moved forward.
Calypso looked down on her thumb, red and with bite marks, which receded within seconds.
Shakenly grabbing it with the other hand as she stared out her window, Calypso shuddered out a pant. She had to fight against opening one of these books and tearing it open right now, but she had to maintain some semblance of sanity, especially at this point.
But as the girls drove down this dirty road, surrounded by tall trees, it was hard not flashing back. Not even in the forest itself, but the train ride there.
Where Calypso could even see the creatures of the damned from there, from out of the train car’s window. That she called herself dumb, afraid, an idiot in an instant when she did. But now she can’t help to think—what if she voiced it then? Would it have made a difference in the end?
Despite it feeling like an eternity, Calypso soon saw nothing but open, green fields. Stretching until they became fertilized and hoed farmland, finally leading to a humble two-floor home.
It was basically like the postcards that Calypso saw in the past, a wide place with thin wooden pillars that held up the roof, creating a patio. Brown and white shades made up the palette, the windows not only boxy but were in pairs. The rooftops were more like trapezoids in a deep brown, the paired windows were more narrowed as they emerged out of the massive roof piece. A caramel paint coating the walls with white boarders around the windows as a finish.
And despite being rather spacious, one could easily see the red barns dotted behind it. Clearly holding some form of life that were shadowed and moving from this view.
Something that Calypso had to remind herself of, that they’re just barn animals.
Now as they got closer to her Aunt and Uncle’s, Calypso took soft breathes to herself, steeling herself. Adjusting her mask with the standard neutral calm she’s cultivated.
Pulling up to the front of the house, Calypso saw the duo. Aunt Artemis waving with both arms, as Uncle Bradley merrily shaking a cardboard sign that said “WELCOME HOME, CALYPSO” scribbled with stylized letters.
“I had to deal with that energy for years—now it’s your turn,” Sal took her tongue and hooked it out of the side of her mouth, as she took out her keys. The frustrating thing about her cousin was that everything she says is layered deep with humor, making it hard for Calypso to deem what’s a joke and what’s not.
“Oh boy…” Calypso had to keep a handle, had to keep the mask steady. She opened her door, and got out, putting her books under her arm as she walked forward.