In the peaceful sun-blocked darkness of the bedroom, a rectangle of light blinked on and started humming a jaunty tune that grew in volume until a tired hand fumbled across the sheet to silence its screaming. Groaning groggily, Kit sat up and squinted at their phone, frowning at the time. 8pm already. Time to get up. They swung their legs off the side of the bed, yawning as they stood and shuffled across their room to the kitchenette for coffee.
The next hour and a half was usually a carefully planned and timed endeavor, a routine Kit followed to the letter every evening in order to maximize their free time before going to work. Wake up at 8pm and start coffee, go to the bathroom and get the shower going by the time the Keurig finished and be stepping out of the shower right as the cup of coffee is the perfect temperature to drink at 8:25. Drink coffee and check messages, get work uniform ready to go, then get dressed and be walking out the door by 9:30. Kit did this every day.
Today was different. 8:25 came and went, then 8:30, then 8:45. Kit’s 9pm alarm sounded and still they stood under the now-cold stream of the shower, head down, staring unfocused at the tile. Remnants of a strange dream rolled around in their mind, a dream that had been coming almost every night for two weeks.
There was always an enormous serpent, or maybe it was a dragon, Kit couldn’t really tell. The beast was unlike anything they had ever seen before, so big that it left them breathless. It would surge toward them with its great muscular tail, the brown scales on its body shining with swirls of oil-slick blue and green. Kit recalled it had arms, giant arms with sharp claws and more layers of eye-catching scale armor, its hands clenched into van-sized fists. The great horned head bore a large curved beak like a bird of prey, and it would always unleash an ear-splitting shriek that left Kit’s ears ringing even after they woke up.
Always, the dreams were the same. Kit would see this monster coming toward them, its intensely blue eyes glowing like torches as it drew closer and closer. Flames climbed up around them and suddenly all Kit could feel was hot, very hot air scorching across their skin. A sudden wave of nostalgia would hit them as they raised their head to lock eyes with this beast, and then they would startle awake.
Snapping back to reality with a gasp, Kit shut the water off and grabbed their phone to silence their alarm. Then they saw the time.
“Shit!!” Almost tripping over the bathmat, Kit ran to get dressed as quickly as possible. Hopping across the room with their trousers half-on, they grabbed the still-sort-of-warm coffee and chugged it down while they crammed their feet into their shoes. No time to eat anything, they could grab a snack at work. All of their stuff was already packed up, still in their backpack from the night before, waiting by the front door. By the time Kit’s “you should have left by now!” alarm went off at 9:30, they were locking their front door and sprinting down the hall.
Like almost every other resident of the city, Kit lived in a plain brick building, a stack of ten or so cubes meant for students and single families. It was a college town mostly, dominated by the intimidating façade of the university campus and all its impressive greenery, kept afloat economically by coffee shops and bookstores and movie theaters. Kit enjoyed it despite not being a student themself, frequenting a café called Keeko’s and practically living at Bibliophile, the secondhand bookstore a block from their apartment. Most evenings as they walked to work, Kit would stop at Keeko’s for a pastry or the corner shop for an energy drink, but tonight they ran right past them.
Kit ran the whole 10 blocks from their apartment to the university, kicking themself for letting a stupid dream distract them from their schedule. Being late was not something they were in the habit of! They were able to tuck the dream into the back of their mind for a moment but it didn’t last, creeping back to Kit’s attention as they trotted in place at the crosswalk. It was strange how they couldn’t shake the dream this time. Did it mean something? Deep in thought, Kit almost missed their signal.
As the brick archway of the university loomed into view, Kit slowed their pace to a brisk walk and made their way down the path toward the library. The campus was almost completely deserted at this hour, classes all done for the day and only three or four students still hanging about the grounds. To the left of the path was the main university building itself: four stately levels of brick and glass, a handful of lights still on inside. Kit had only been inside the main building once – when they had interviewed for the overnight security job in the library. The interior reminded them of TV law procedurals with all the dark wood and quietly humming air conditioning.
The library to the right of the path looked like a smaller version of the main building with a broad set of brick stairs leading up to the automatic glass doors. On either side of the glass doors sat a carved stone statue of a black bear, the university mascot; Kit patted each statue’s nose as they walked past. A pass was required to get in at this time of night, but the night librarian saw Kit before they could get their badge out and buzzed them in with a smile.
“Evening, Kit. Running late tonight?” She said genially and Kit nodded, speed-walking past the desk toward the locker rooms.
“Y-yeah! Thanks, Angie!” At 10pm exactly Kit was clocking in, their backpack stashed away in a locker. They’d made it just in time. Breathing a sigh of relief as they headed over to the security desk, the anxiety over running late melted away as the mellow resignation of their overnight shift began to settle in.
“It’s not like you to cut it this close, Kit! Everything okay?” The evening shift security, a too-friendly oversharer named Winston, leaned over the security desk as Kit approached. They groaned softly and gave a little shrug. Winston was far from Kit’s favorite co-worker. Thankfully, he left each night at 11 so they only had to deal with him for an hour.
“Yeah, everything’s fine, I just overslept. Alarm didn’t go off.” Kit wasn’t fond of lying, found it difficult and distasteful, but they were even less fond of the idea of Winston knowing anything whatsoever about them outside of work. So they lied. Winston seemed satisfied with the answer and went about his business as Kit sat down and logged into the computer.
“Hey, Kit-Kat, I told you my wife’s birthday was this weekend?” Winston rolled over in his desk chair to sit closer to Kit than they’d like, and they shot him a quick look before turning their attention back to their start-of-shift logs.
“You mentioned it. Told you not to call me Kit-Kat.”
“Right, sorry. Anyway, so we had the birthday party for my wife yesterday and her parents came. Her mother, bless her, she can’t cook to save her life…” Winston’s voice faded into the background as Kit tuned him out, their vision sliding out of focus as the monster from their dream rippled across their mind. They couldn’t stop thinking about its eyes, unnaturally blue and piercing into their very soul. Every time they had that dream, those eyes would linger.
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Time passed slowly. 10:30 came and the library closed, then 11pm and Winston headed out. He said something to Kit as he left but they didn’t listen, didn’t hear it. Around 1am, they started to doze, the calm quiet of the empty library lulling them to half-sleep. As their eyelids drooped, Kit could have sworn they saw something, a shadow slinking between the shelves. Startled, they sat bolt upright, eyes wide and heart pounding.
Nothing was there. Kit stared hard for a long time, eyes darting from one row of shelves to the next, until they determined what they saw was simply a result of the fluorescent lights flickering. There was a weird feeling, just for a second, a static crackle that reminded Kit of opening the dryer. The sensation was fleeting but it kept their attention on the A-D rows of the YA Fiction section for quite awhile. The buzzing of the lights mingled with the rushing of blood in their ears and Kit finally looked away to get their earbuds from the desk. The silence was becoming a bit too loud.
The Bluetooth of the cheap earphones was finicky, and it took a couple minutes and an F-bomb or two before they connected to Kit’s phone. A synthetic voice cheerfully sing-songed the successful connection.
“Finally.” They sighed and put the buds in their ears, smiling as fast-paced drums and sparkling synths greeted them. Able to concentrate now that they couldn’t hear the lights, Kit sat up straight and looked back toward YA Fiction A-D.
There was definitely someone standing there now. Kit screamed at the top of their lungs, falling backwards out of their chair and scrambling across the floor to hide under the desk. They fumbled for the Taser that hung from their belt, unsnapping the safety tether and brandishing it like a pistol with both hands.
Intruder! There was an intruder! How had they even gotten in? The doors were all locked, Kit was sure of it! They had done it themself! Struggling to keep their frantic breathing quiet, Kit realized they could hear the heavy thud of the intruder’s boots coming steadily closer. Clutching the Taser tighter, they held their breath as the footfalls stopped and they could see the intruder’s shadow stretching across the floor.
“I don’t know why you’re hiding like that, I know you’re there.” The voice was deep and masculine yet juvenile, and held some strange accent Kit couldn’t identify. They heard shuffling, the creaking of leather, then the desk suddenly groaned as the intruder climbed on top of it. Two dark brown hands wearing fingerless leather gloves appeared over the edge.
“P-please leave before I call the p-police!” Kit tried to sound authoritative but their voice shook and squeaked, their panic obvious. The intruder scoffed above them and they could hear the weight shift as he leaned over the edge of the desk; a mop of fluffy lavender hair and an angular upside-down face came into view.
Kit screamed again and this time they reacted, remembering the Taser in their hands and pointing it straight at the intruder’s face. Screwing their eyes shut, they pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened. Kit pulled the trigger again and, again, nothing happened. Panicking, they tried a third time. A third time, nothing happened. They pulled the Taser back and examined it, gut dropping when they saw the LED above the trigger blink red; they had forgotten to charge it.
“What are you doing?” The intruder asked, giving Kit a curious look. With a screech, they hurled the useless Taser at his face and scuttled across the carpet to the other end of the desk.
“OW, what the hell?!” Flipping down off the desk and crouching down, the intruder rubbed his nose where the Taser hit him. Even down on the floor, Kit could tell he was very tall, taller than their own 6 feet for sure. He wore leather, a lot of it: long dark brown coat, pants, heavy boots, all sturdy leather. His candy-colored hair fell past his shoulders and the hilt of a broadsword peeked over his shoulder. But the weirdest thing about this stranger wasn’t his D&D outfit or his electric blue eyes that glared at them in annoyance, it was his ears. Long and pointed, they poked out of his hair like knives. This man wasn’t human! Kit’s heart began to pound all over again.
“Wh-who are you…?” They stammered, pressing themself as far back under the desk as possible. The man snorted.
“I’m Jamil. What did you just throw at me? That hurt!”
“Wha-? Why are you breaking into the library?!” Kit’s voice rose in pitch as their panic began to shift into agitation. This weirdo broke into the library and he was concerned about his nose?!
“Breaking into…what? I’m not breaking in! I didn’t break anything! Now, come out from under there, Kismet, we gotta go.” Standing up, the stranger called Jamil held out his hand to Kit. His tone was not unfriendly but what he said struck Kit like lightning.
“What did you call me…?”
“Kismet? That’s you, right?”
“No? I’m Kit!” They argued. Jamil let his hand drop to his side and tilted his head, squinting hard at Kit.
“Kit, Kismet, same thing, right?” He shrugged dismissively. Kit scowled.
“No, not the same thing! You got the wrong person so please leave!” Their voice squeaked and Jamil looked puzzled.
“Are you sure you’re not Kismet? You look just like them.” He reached out to touch a strand of Kit’s hair and they jerked away, slapping at his hand. The touch had felt like a hundred static shocks all at once.
“Don’t touch me, creep! I told you, I’m not Kismet, I'm Kit!” Now they were annoyed as well as afraid. Just what the hell was going on?
“I’m not a creep!” Jamil looked genuinely offended, frowning hard. “I’m here to protect you, dummy! Ugh, we don’t have time for this!” Rummaging inside his coat, he produced a glass vial the size of his thumb and held it up triumphantly. Some shiny blue liquid swirled around inside, moving almost as if it were alive. Those strange blue eyes of his fixed on Kit and, without looking away, Jamil crushed the vial in his hand.
Thick blue smoke poured out, pooling around Jamil’s boots and spreading across the floor like backflow incense. It gave off an earthy aroma. That strange staticky feeling was back, every hair on Kit’s body standing on end. While Jamil was distracted with his broken glass Kit tried to crawl away, but found the smoke to be strangely sticky; once they touched it, they couldn’t seem to move out of it.
“Master Jesper can explain better than I can. He sent me to collect you so that’s what I'm doing.” Leaning down, Jamil grabbed the sleeve of Kit’s uniform shirt and hauled them to their feet. “You need to be in contact with me or you’re gonna get left behind.” His arm hooked around Kit’s like they were about to go frolicking through a meadow.
“Left behind? W-wait a minute, are you kidnapping me?!” Kit tried to pull away but Jamil held them tight. He raised an amused eyebrow at them.
“No, I'm not kidnapping you! Just be still or you’re gonna end up in the Vorran wastelands!” By now the smoke had fully engulfed them. Kit began to feel strange, like they were on a carnival ride spinning out of control, until their stomach felt like it was going to turn inside out. They tried to speak but no sound came out, and Jamil’s grip on them tightened. He was shouting something but Kit couldn’t hear over the roaring in their ears. Suddenly it felt like the floor had disappeared beneath their feet and they clung tightly to Jamil, the swirling smoke becoming a cyclone around them.
After a moment the smoke had cleared and both Kit and Jamil were gone. Only a scattering of glass shards remained.
~