Sarah grinned mischievously at the stern security guard, who glared at her over the heads of the bustling crowd. She jumped into the air, blowing him a kiss before dashing off with a fit of giggles. The surrounding people closed in around her and quickly hid her from view.
As she wove her way through the crowd, Sarah sighed wistfully. Teasing men was one thing, but she’d never let anyone get close enough to touch her. Her magic made sure of that, and she despised it. Physical contact overwhelmed her with chaotic, intrusive montages of visions, thoughts, and emotions. When she touched objects, their histories burst into her mind: the railing bore the touch of countless hands, the chicken she’d eaten for dinner came with a glimpse of its short life from hatching to slaughter. But people were the worst. Touching someone filled her with their emotions and thoughts, leaving her raw, exhausted, and ready to avoid contact for as long as possible.
She twisted around a slow-moving couple, struggling to retrieve her card with gloved hands as she took the subway entrance stairs two at a time. She ran through the chill air, dodging past people on their way up to street level. When her card refused to work, she jumped the turnstile and hurried on before anyone noticed. Qorluna didn’t have the funding to place security at all the subway stops or even fix up the infrastructure, which was almost a century old now. The lights were dim and flickering down here, shadows clinging to the corners.
Thankfully, there were few people at this particular stop. A couple dressed for a night out stood close, while an old man in a hat made of rotten banana peels sat with his back against a column, dancing a puppet on a piece of cardboard as a small radio played music nearby. The sounds of the subway washed over Sarah as the train approached and began to slow. She watched the couple board the train, while a dozen people disembarked.
As she waited, Sarah put on her headphones, letting the pounding bass of her music drown out the clamor of the subway. Absent-mindedly, she handed a couple of bills to the eccentric puppeteer, whose face lit up momentarily. But when he saw her bobbing her head to her own music, oblivious to his performance, his expression soured. He snatched the bills from her hand and returned to his show with a huff.
The train squealed and rattled as it pulled away, the sound cutting through her even as it gathered speed. Barely a moment after the last car passed, Sarah crouched and dropped down onto the tracks. The puppeteer’s eyes went wide as he watched her start jogging in the direction the train had just come from.
As she ran, signs marked the overhead passages, mirroring street names from the city above. Grimy walls loomed beside her, their surfaces alive with skittering shadows. The darkness around her thickened as the distant lights dimmed, her footfalls swallowed by the tunnel’s echo, which lent an eerie sense of solitude to her journey.
Thirty-sixth Street, where was it? She kept her eyes peeled, eventually catching sight of the sign on the stone wall. The tunnel stretched onward, damp air clinging to her skin, the sounds of the city above growing distant. Her footsteps barely echoed, as if the darkness itself was absorbing each step.
Ahead, the tracks split in three directions, each one disappearing into the unknown. Massive stone columns rose up, dividing the paths before they disappeared into three dark tunnels. A soft layer of white light illuminated the center track, spilling from LED lights mounted high on the columns. The outer tracks, however, were lit only by flickering yellow bulbs, remnants of an older system. Most were shattered or burnt out, casting broken shadows on the walls.
Sarah took the better-lit outer track, drawn to the faint glow that provided some comfort. As she moved deeper, she noticed the unmistakable glow of approaching train lights in the distance. The dimness along the far side of the tunnel seemed to amplify the oncoming brightness, bathing her surroundings in an otherworldly glow.
As the train roared past, the ground beneath her vibrated violently, causing the outer track lights to flicker and die altogether. For a few moments, only the center track remained illuminated, slicing the darkness with the train’s passing light, framing the speeding cars against the black columns. The metal shrieked and rattled, a deafening noise that made Sarah feel as though the air itself was being pulled from her lungs.
Dust blew up in swirling clouds, and Sarah took a step back, watching as bits of trash tumbled past her. She clutched her coat tightly, a familiar shiver running through her as she remembered the time a newspaper had smacked her in the face. In that instant, she’d felt the hands of every person who had ever touched it—their thoughts, emotions, and fleeting memories flooding her mind. The intrusion had been overwhelming, a harsh reminder of the curse she bore, one that invaded her every time she touched something or someone.
Her ability allowed her to see the history of anything she made contact with, the voices and emotions of countless others invading her mind, unbidden and relentless. As the last echo of the train faded, Sarah darted across the tracks, heading to the far side of the tunnel. There, in the dim light, she saw it—a jagged hole, broken into the brick wall, its black void barely visible against the murky pattern of crisscrossing bricks. She ran her gloved hands along the rough edges of the opening, feeling its contours and reassuring herself that this was indeed the entrance she had been seeking.
She removed a small pocketknife from her pocket, carefully slipping the glove off one hand and biting down on it to hold it steady. With precise, practiced movements, she pricked her finger, drawing just enough blood before tucking the knife away. Guiding herself with her gloved hand, she pressed her wounded finger into the opening, squeezing slightly to release a few more drops. The jagged crystals lining the edges glinted in the dim light, their sharp points offering a silent warning. Those without a blade could have used them for a blood offering, but the idea of touching them directly made Sarah shudder.
The moment her blood met the cold surface inside the opening, an eerie green mist materialized, swirling around her outstretched hand. It twisted and writhed, casting an otherworldly glow on the bricks around her. The air grew colder, and she felt a chill creep through her bones as if the temperature had dropped several degrees in an instant. Her breath caught, and the hairs on the back of her neck rose, a shiver trailing down her spine. A damp, decaying scent filled her nostrils, mingling with the sharp, metallic tang of her own blood.
Then, suddenly, an invisible force seemed to seize her, tugging her forward with a strength that defied reason. Her heart hammered against her ribs, adrenaline coursing through her veins as the green mist thickened, enveloping her like a ghostly shroud. The world around her began to stretch and warp, bricks and tunnel lights melting into a surreal blur of colors. She felt the pull grow stronger, her body swaying as she surrendered to it, a thrill of fear mixed with exhilaration gripping her.
The green light flared, brightening until it consumed everything, a blinding radiance that filled her vision. And then, just as suddenly as it began, the pull ceased. The world stilled, and as the glow faded, Sarah found herself standing in an entirely different place, the silence hanging thick around her.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
A long, dimly lit hallway stretched out before Sarah, ending with a pair of imposing double doors. Torches flickered along the polished wooden walls, casting eerie shadows that seemed to writhe and twist in the darkness. The doors loomed at the end of the corridor, their blood-red sheen only interrupted by two gleaming copper handles, dulled with age but polished by countless hands.
Sarah let her hand fall to her side, a smirk playing on her lips as she strode confidently down the hallway. She reached into her pocket, pulling out a small bottle. Shaking out a single pill, she swallowed it in one fluid motion. “Always gotta be so dramatic,” she muttered, eyes gleaming with anticipation.
As she walked, Sarah felt a faint thrum beneath her feet—a deep, pulsing vibration that sent a chill up her spine. The torches’ flames swayed in perfect time with the rhythm, casting dancing shadows that seemed to beckon her forward. She slipped off her headphones, letting the muffled beat grow louder, the bass thudding in her chest like a second heartbeat. Her grin widened, and she began to bob her head in sync with the music as she approached the doors.
With a gentle push, the doors slid open silently, as if anticipating her arrival. Beyond them, a sprawling underground den stretched out before her. Unlike the neon-lit clubs she was used to, this place had an air of menace, with dark corners that the lights barely touched and a haze that seemed to thicken as she stepped inside. Murky, colored lights and flashes of crimson lasers cut through the smoky air, illuminating the packed floor where bodies swayed and convulsed to the relentless beat.
Bars lined the perimeter of the room, their dim neon lights casting an unnatural, sickly hue on the patrons. The bartenders moved with an efficient, almost mechanical grace, eyes darting to assess each customer’s intentions. Above the dance floor, metal cages dangled from thick chains, their occupants twisting and writhing in time with the hypnotic beat. The scent of smoke, sweat, and something acrid filled the air, tinged with a faint, bitter odor that hinted at the concoctions being passed among the crowd.
Sarah wove her way through the throng, brushing past other magic users whose auras crackled faintly around them—some with faint glows of blue, others tinged with a dark, foreboding red. Every so often, she caught snippets of conversation in whispered tones, quick exchanges of vials and powders, money slipping from hand to hand in seamless, practiced motions. Her eyes drifted around the room, taking it all in until something caught her eye.
Embedded in the far wall, partially hidden by shadow, was a large red stone. It pulsed faintly, veins of light snaking through it, and its surface was etched with intricate, swirling grooves. Sarah stepped closer, unable to resist its draw. The markings on the stone seemed to shift and ripple, alive with a sinister energy that tugged at her senses. She tilted her head, a quiet thrill coursing through her as she studied it, wondering what hidden secrets lay within the stone’s fiery depths.
As Sarah studied the stone, she found herself mesmerized by the pulsing rhythm of the club. The grooves within the stone seemed almost alive, glowing with a dark, sinister luminescence that drew her closer, each pattern shifting and pulsing as though it held a heartbeat of its own. The longer she stared, the more the stone’s energy seemed to synchronize with the beat around her. She closed her eyes, surrendering to the music, her head bobbing in time as she let herself drift into the hypnotic rhythm.
The brushes of contact against her coat guided her movements, yet without the usual fear of touching others. No one was trying to get close, and the pounding music drowned out any residual whispers or memories. For a fleeting moment, she felt free—the drug’s effects silencing the chaotic remnants of her abilities and holding her demons at bay.
Moments blurred into songs, and soon, Sarah’s brow grew damp with sweat, her feet beginning to ache from the relentless movement. Breathing heavily, she stopped, taking a deep breath as she scanned the room to collect herself. Across the club, she noticed a man lounging on a couch, flanked by two women. Guarding the table were two imposing thugs, one of whom sported a glowing yellow third eye in the center of his forehead.
Catching sight of her, the man made a silly, exaggerated wave, beckoning her over. Sarah rolled her eyes but began weaving her way through the crowd toward him. As she walked, the drug’s effects intensified, making the music louder, the lights sharper, and the crowd around her seem to move in perfect harmony with the beat. She took in the scene around her, both wary and amused as she made her way to her dealer—a man she didn’t particularly like but tolerated for the respite he offered in the form of his magic-dampening pills.
Kierin greeted her with a smirk, his gaze roaming over her with an appraising, almost predatory look.
“Sarah, baby. How ya doing, huh?”
Sarah suppressed a grimace as she felt his eyes linger. She knew Kierin wanted more than just a business relationship, but she wasn’t interested. She held up the nearly empty bottle, giving it a shake. “Just here to refill my meds.”
Kierin scowled, his expression darkening. “That’s all I’m good for?” he asked, voice dripping with mock hurt. “You should stick around, spend some time with us. I think you’d like what you see.” He flashed a knowing smile.
Sarah gave him a blank stare, holding up the bottle again. She was in no mood for his games.
With a sigh, he handed her a small container, refilled with pills. Sarah grinned, pocketing them. She felt the drug she had taken already working, a familiar, numbing warmth spreading through her. It dulled the sensory chaos that plagued her with every touch. She could finally feel calm, even reckless. As she made to head back toward the dance floor, Kierin’s hand shot out, gripping her arm.
“We gotta talk,” he said, his tone shifting to something harder. “I’ve got a job for you.”
Sarah scowled, pulling her arm free but following him as he led her to a private room at the back of the club. She knew that Kierin’s pills always came with strings attached, and it looked like tonight would be no different. As they moved, the drug’s effects intensified—the colors around her grew vivid, the music louder, and the people in the club seemed to blur into a surreal, pulsing mass. She stumbled once, and Kierin’s right-hand man, Jack, caught her arm, steadying her as they reached the room.
Kierin pushed open the door and settled into one of two chairs in front of a sleek metal desk. He took out a pipe, lighting it and offering it to her with a raised brow. Sarah shook her head, declining, and waited as he took a long draw before speaking.
Kierin exhaled a plume of smoke. “This one’s special….Someone I owe needs a favor, and they need your… particular skills.”
“Your crew can’t handle it?” she asked, crossing her arms.
He shook his head. “Nah, this is bigger. Higher up the chain, if you catch my drift. They’ve got a safe, and they want it tested. Day job—nice change for you, I bet. And they’re offering $20,000 if you can pass their little test.”
Sarah raised an eyebrow, surprised. Most of her jobs with Kierin involved scouting or reading an object for security details, setting up easy heists. This sounded different. “A test?”
Kierin leaned forward, tapping ash into a tray. “Yeah. Rich guy’s got himself a new toy—one of those state-of-the-art safes. He’s so cocky, he’s only using a password. No biometrics, none of the fancy stuff. But he’s bragging it’s ‘magic-proof.’ Says no one can crack it.” He gestured with the pipe, the smoke curling up in lazy spirals. “But here’s the kicker: there’s some kind of enchantment involved. Either it’s a shikai they found, or someone’s laid new magic on it. You get in, see what’s what, and bring it back. If you cant get in, no harm done.”
Sarah gave him a long, considering look. If she stood to make that kind of money, then Kierin was likely making ten times that amount, if not more. He wasn’t known for sharing the spoils. If he was willing to part with this much cash, it had to be a significant favor to someone powerful.
She nodded slowly. “Alright, I’ll do it.”
Kierin grinned, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “Atta girl. I knew you’d be in it to win it.”
She felt her mind growing clearer as her body adjusted to the medication. She listened carefully as he laid out the details, asking questions and committing the plan to memory. As they wrapped up, Kierin handed her a small card with the job’s location scrawled on it.
As she pocketed the card, a familiar thrill rose in her chest. This was risky, no doubt about it, but the reward was worth it. This was her life now, and for the first time in a while, she felt the excitement brewing, despite how badly magic had twisted her world.