“Where are you going?” Myra whispered as she followed Ori through the crowd. She kept a safe distance, making sure there was always enough space in between and places to hide if need be. She tried not to think back at the idea she had inevitably become one of the small parts that formed the horrifying image she saw from the roof.

Ori moved in a straight line as if people on the streets were mere obstacles and he was the arrow cutting through them. Soon enough they were almost two blocks away from the intersection and a string of shops opened up ahead. It happened to be one of the oldest parts of the city which somehow managed to keep both the authenticity and the charm of the old times, and with them, all the other things the modern world had forgotten.

About half the way down, between the tailor and the jeweller’s shop, he stopped, made a sharp turn to the right, and disappeared into thin air.

Myra hesitated to make another step forward. She peeked around the corner as a dark alley stretched into what seemed like infinity. Even though the sun was still up, the light did not manage to reach in between the tall brick walls, leaving them forever coated in cold shadow.

The further on she looked, the narrower the walls appeared, and the more terrifying the idea of what it may be hiding.

“Come on. Where did he go?” she asked forgetting that common sense did not always apply to magic.

Having no other choice, she made several steps into the alley, knocking on the bricks as she went, making sure her eyes did not deceive her. But the further on she went, the more nauseous she became and had less faith there would ever be an exit. The bricks stretched on and on, no matter how she tried to grab onto them and the ground was ready to shift under her and pull her into the darkness.

It took a moment to realize that she’d had her fill of things that made her feel powerless. She was certainly not of the type to run away from trouble but she was also fully aware there were kinds of trouble she did not even want to know about, much less have a chance to run away from.

“This won’t do,” she said looking back at the line of shops and slowly backing up.

Minutes went by, and hundreds of people came and went up and down the street. The shops were busy with customers and they went about their days as naturally as they would. Nothing was out of place and the best she could do was wait.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The bronze clock on a humble tower that peeked above the rooftops sounded when it hit four o’clock and one by one, the shops began to close their doors. The street that was only moments ago teaming with life, now stood completely empty. Even the cars in the distance were too silent to be heard.

Myra stepped down from the pavement and walked to the middle of the cobblestones. Looking both ways she could not understand what was truly happening. The shop windows had the curtains down and not even stray cats dared to walk freely anymore.

Something did not feel right, and she did not want to get caught up in it any more than she already was. Determined to find out what was happening, she bounced back into the narrow passage and watched closely for any movement.

Nothing happened. The silence and stillness prevailed.

Eventually, her eyes got caught on a black bird on top of a roof across the street. She did not see it land, or croak or make a single move before. For all she cared, that bird had been there all along, a simple ornament that pointed to where the wind was blowing.

“What are you looking at?” she heard a voice say. It sounded fiendish, like an imitation of what a voice should be. She flinched, looked back, and then forward again, but found no sign of life.

“Over here,” it spoke again and this time she could say for certain that it was the bird speaking.

“What?” her heart raced, as her thought began to form around impossible scenarios. “You are talking?” she said slowly.

“Am I? Oh, what a time to be alive. Of course, I am,” it replied and laughed in its croaking tone. “You here for some merch? You are not too inconspicuous about it?”

“Merch? What is that supposed to mean?”

Instead of an answer, the raven tapped on the metal rod upon which it stood and then switched sides. There was not much logic in its movements, and they seemed incredibly random and sloppy.

Having no idea what was happening, Myra leaned against the wall and watched the silly dance of talking raven. Somehow, she did not think she’d yet seen all the oddities the day had to offer.

The wind chimes on the shop’s doors sounded first like an earthquake was about to hit the city. Then she felt something moving behind her back, a little to the left and a little to the right. One by one the bricks began to vibrate as the mortar that held them together turned back to a liquid state. It flowed around them, making them move like they were a living thing.

Like a blooming flower, the wall opened up, revealing a passage.

“What is that?” she asked the raven. “Where does it lead to?”

“You say that a lot. What, what, what,” it croaked in a spur of madness. “Maybe try doing something yourself for once.”

“You… I…” she winced, looking back at the gaping hole in the wall, no longer having a doubt about where Ori had gone. Even though it was a great risk at a bad time, she did not want to waste an opportunity so well presented.

“Don’t stay too long,” the raven croaked. “The gate will close.”

“Raven!” she yelled back, but the bird had already reverted to its original state. It no longer looked like a raven at all, but a pigeon of the most usual kind.