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Hazemakers
001: Blue Mist

001: Blue Mist

“Grandpa left me a what?” Maya turned to her mother, shoving pink waves of hair behind her ear and screwing her face up just the right amount to convey utter confusion. Mum continued, “A bag, like a backpack, it’s in a box with some other bits, in the car still. Tell you what, you can grab it when you take the rubbish out.” Still dissatisfied, Maya dropped her toast onto the plate and headed out the door. Mum called behind her “The bins?”

“Wha- oh, fine.” Maya turned back and set about her chores, shoving the last bit of toast into her mouth as she went. The bin bag split as she pulled it out, of course. Mum reminded her that this was because it was over full and that Maya had left it too long, of course. And, rubbish leaked out all over the floor as Maya tried to carry it regardless, of course. The situation being wholly Maya’s fault did not make it any less frustrating for her, or make her mothers smug ‘I told you so’ expression any easier to stomach.

Once she had cleared up the mess and reinforced the bag entirely unassisted, Maya hefted it over her shoulder and exited the house. Annoyingly the bins were still at the end of the drive, although that may have been one of Maya’s yesterday jobs, so she forgave the situation fairly quickly. Maya dropped the bag by the steps, and wandered down to retrieve the bins. As she passed the car, she remembered about the bag from Grandpa. Curiosity got the better of her and so she backtracked inside to grab the keys.

Maya lifted the box from the back seat and took it upstairs, placing it on her bed. She sat herself next to it and started to rummage. It was mostly old tat really, although Maya quickly came across some of Grandma’s old earrings that Grandpa must have kept. She stood up and put them on. They shimmered with a strange glow and Maya caught herself a few moments later staring at them in the mirror. She shook herself free of the trance and returned to the box. The next object of interest was the backpack. She needed one anyway, and this was kind of retro, so she was grateful, even if it was a weird thing to leave someone. A small envelope poked out of the front pocket of the bag, but as she lifted it up a gentle twinkling sound came from inside.

Maya unclipped the top and tipped the bag up, but when nothing fell out she placed it back down and opened it wide to have a look. Instead of being full, or empty even, the bag was dark, void like. This was her first clue, well maybe not her first, but certainly a clue. Oblivious to its significance however, Maya reached in and felt around for a second before she pulled out a vial of shiny blue liquid. She placed it on the bed and reached into the darkness again, pulling out another one. This time she inspected it more carefully.

Maya found herself for the second time, entranced. On this occasion, it was the swirling glittery blue liquid inside the vial that had her transfixed. After nobody knows how long, Maya was shaken from the trance when Mum called up to her. “Maya, I’m just off out for coffee, can you please sort out the bin bag you’ve left on the doorstep before I get back.” Maya had forgotten about that, so before she had a chance to forget about it again, she turned to go and complete the unfinished task, dropping the vial onto the bed absentmindedly. In that moment, the world very quickly made less sense than it ever had. That tiny moment of disregard, of assumption that the soft bed would be a fine landing spot for a delicate glass vial, changed everything.

Instead of landing softly, the vial bounced, tumbled in the air and shattered on the floor. Maya turned back at the noise to see a blue mist swirling from the point of impact. The smoke churned and trailed into a spiral around her feet. Maya recoiled in confused horror. The mist however stayed with her as she stumbled back into her room and within seconds it fully enveloped her. Too stunned to scream, Maya felt herself slipping away, as though she might faint. In desperation she grabbed at the air, and her eyes slipped closed as she felt her hand grasp the backpack.

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Maya’s eyes opened to a squint, as sudden harsh sunlight flooded the room. The birds outside were obnoxiously loud. Her mind buzzed as she tried to process the realism of the dream she had just had, except she was standing up, and she was outside, and it wasn’t a dream. As her eyes adjusted to the glare, Maya saw wisps of blue smoke fade to nothing at her feet.

The rest of her predicament came into immediate, sharp focus. Maya stood on a strange stone circle in the middle of a huge meadow. The floor was intricately carved with weird symbols and etchings and covered an area larger than the footprint of her house. Oddly, some of the designs looked a bit like the patio at Grandpa’s house, but this was definitely not Grandpa’s house. Maya twisted and turned on the spot, trying to take in her new surroundings.

The carved stone platform consisted of eight concentric circles, each filled with runic symbols and delicate artistic flourishes. Though some of the stone beyond the outermost circle looked worn by time, the sculpted pattern of rings was perfect, as though the artist had completed their work only this morning.

Where the stone finished, lush green meadows extended outwards for miles in all directions. Directly ahead, Maya studied a dirt road that wound through the hills towards mountains painted onto the horizon. As she turned slowly left, the mountains eventually gave way to a deep and ominous forest. Maya scanned the woods, and was startled by a sudden burst from the tree line as a flock of birds took to flight. Just as the mountains had, the forest slowly gave way. More meadows stretched off as far as the eye could see, gently becoming farmland. Farms meant people. Maya turned more quickly, in search of buildings and found them. Now facing away from the mountains, Maya traced a gentle river cutting down through the meadows and farms to a small village in the distance.

Maya stood for a while, just watching the smoke rise from the chimneys, before realising she had grabbed her Grandpa’s bag, which oddly connected this strange experience to her bedroom, and reality. Her eyes lit as the idea came. She reached into the bag and pulled out another blue vial. Maya stared at it for only a second before making the choice. She threw it on the ground. As expected, the blue mist swirled around her, but this time she was ready. She stood tall and confident, as it consumed her, closing her eyes. When she felt the same shift as before, she opened her eyes only to find she was stood in exactly the same place, but facing the mountains again, surrounded by what in any other situation would seem like a lovely scenic view. The only thing that stopped Maya from bursting into tears in that moment, was the thought that this could all be a figment of her imagination, a dream.

After failing miserably to convince herself of the dream hypothesis, Maya dropped to the floor and sat, hugging her knees. Once she had cried it out, and nothing had changed, Maya climbed back to her feet. She turned around and faced the village, hefting the bag onto her back. Maya stepped forwards, finding her legs weaker than they had any right to be. One step turned into to two, which turned into a stroll, and she was on her way. As Maya left the eighth ring of the platform, she felt the breeze hit her. A refreshing change to what she now realised was a stuffiness on the platform, despite its exposure. As the minutes passed, and Maya’s march continued, the determination she had initially felt did not.

Walking was not exactly Maya’s favourite thing to do. Walking whilst lost, confused, and scared, even less so. Still, she trudged on, focused on the small cluster of buildings in the distance. After what must have been at least twenty minutes, the buildings did that thing where they didn’t seem to get closer, and Maya found herself quickly losing to despair. With feet tired, and strength of will depleted, Maya stepped off the dirt road and slumped against a tree.

Maya threw her head back in a huff, and closed her eyes. A rustling in the branches above convinced Maya to gently part her eyelids, expecting to see a bird or a squirrel. Instead she froze, seeing a sort of white furred monkey creature with welding goggles and an extra tail sat on the lowest branch just staring at her, smiling.

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