CATCH MY HOPES

Amelia screamed as she woke with a pounding heart. Entrapped by a nightmare, the memories were gone, and what was left was her sweat-soaked body. As her mind yearned to grasp onto any lasting figments of the horror, she found herself hugging her freezing body.

The opening of a nearby door caught her attention, reminder her of where she was; surrounded by wooden furniture in a small, clean apartment. For just a hesitant moment she watched as Zachary peer from behind the door. Her old “friend” from high school sighed as he sat in a chair across from her.

“I messed up, didn’t I?” asked Amelia.

Zachary looked down at his hands. A new scar had stretched from his palm up to his forearm, a result of the woman before him attacking him in the dead of night. Every time he moved his skin burned, and it had gotten to the point that he would wrap his arm with gauze.

“When I got the call from you, I wasn’t sure that it was even real. A few days ago, they told me that you were dead. And then I again doubted everything when I found you in the middle of a cartel town; some of the worst fucking people exist there. Which makes sense for why you attacked me.”

“Fuck, I really messed up.” Amelia groaned being followed by silence. Resting her head against both of her hands, she looked through a crack in her fingers. Her eyes set sight once more upon the clean, yet stylized apartment. Amongst the wooden décor and bits of firefighter memorabilia, she spotted a digital clock beside her. 19:23. She didn’t need a clock to tell her, but time had surely passed since she awoken. Much to Zachary’s dismay, Amelia removed herself from the bed, noticing she was wearing comfortable, yet oversized sweats. Slowly she began to make the bed, being mindful that she was still technically a guest here.

With his hospitality, she had taken the only bed in the apartment during her recovery period. Zach himself opted to sleep on the couch just outside of the room.

Amelia had finished setting the bed. And upon completion she staggard on top of the surface, sitting crossed leg and grabbing a pillow to rest her arms on. “I don’t know what to do from here. I can barely remember anything. Especially, and apparently my own ‘death’. If anything, I would need to return to the Marshall office.” She spoke.

Zachary disapprovingly shook his head. “As much as I would agree we need to figure out what happened to you, and what’s happening in this state. Idaho isn’t anything special, but we need to ensure that the people are safe. That’s the conundrum. And I’m a witness to you.”

“And if I’m suddenly alive again, my—our hands would be tied, and another investigation will be opened,” Amelia grimly understood.

Silence fell between. They didn’t know what was right for their lives.

Zachary let out a heavy breath and shook his head. “Let’s get going. I know a place where we can get you some help. Don’t worry Lia, we’ll get you back up and running. At least well enough to stop whatever is happening... I don’t even know anymore.”

“Wait.”

Zachary looked up from his hands.

“We’ll head to the city soon. Please, just wait for me, I need to do this.”

He said nothing as the young maiden trotted out of the room.

She never said that to him.

It was impossible to miss the tiny red glint in her eyes.

Amelia had managed to escape from the apartment and climb up to the miniatous rooftop. A bitter crisp wind came from the growing storm, concealing the large complexes surrounding her. She managed to stagger towards the edge of the building, and thus she became settled against a frozen railing. Her eyes reached far beyond taking in the calming view of the Idaho wild. Reaching out her hands, snowflakes instantly melted as they contacted her palms. She could see her white breaths escaping high into the falling skies. The harmful, orange glow of the sun on the still fought to show light to the world. Yet, it was slowly being extinguished by the winter night. The rays she did catch warmed her body and kept her comfortable.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

A soft hum escaped her mouth as a thought to call someone crossed her mind. She couldn’t exactly recall who it was, but Amelia knew it was important. That someone was waiting for her.

A bright smile grew upon her lips as she looked high into the falling snow. Letting a part of herself go, psy-psionic particles were released from her fingertips.

Streams of purple light shot into the heavens and exploded into millions of pieces.

Like stars they fell back to the Earth, with some managing to kiss her.

Amelia was truly alive…

###

Who am I? Amelia blinked.

It was a simple answer: Amelia Violet. A member of the United States Marshall Service, Federal Magus Enforcers. Currently on assignment with Alexander White for the case of magic usage for criminal purposes in the state of Idaho.

Idaho?

Savior

—Ruin

For all of humanity.

Red.

Death.

- savior --- for all of humanity—red ---—- death…

Why was it now that her world morphed into a distorted red image of the unknown?

###

“Alex! Remember what you asked of me? I have new information about that.”

The Marshall kindly smiled into his phone as the normally calm Malone, beamed with light enthusiasm. The IT had been hard at work for well over a week trying to determine everything of what happened not only to Alex, but the star of the show, Amelia Violet.

“Do tell.”

“How about this, I’ve got some information on the guy that killed her—Ex CIA, and the ones that took her body.”

“CIA? What?”

“Really FBI, but he transferred in his last year.”

“Anyways, what of the extras that took Amelia?”

“Oh, that. Amelia was transferred on an official scheduled basis to a morgue in cartel territory.”

“I see. God damn it, she’s off the grid…”

Malone went silent.

“You care about her.”

A dry chuckle escaped the deputy, “I do.”

“Man—I, I’m here. We’re going to get her back. Give her peace.”

“Malone… Thank you.”

“Just take care of yourself. And take your time.”

“Always. Ciao.”

“Ciao.”

Alex let out a long groan as he lowered his head. This was going to turn out to be a struggle amongst the federal services, and he wanted no part of it.

He wondered why they all had to get involved. Why they couldn’t just live in peace.

On the other hand, it made sense; the FBI had effectively pushed the Marshall service to the side when it came to dealing with the uptick of magical crimes in the state. They had little grounds here to begin with, and even with the Navy’s criminal investigations support package, they were limited in everything including their most effective intelligence-gathering operations in hot zones all around Idaho.

Why would they try to even compete with such an impossible struggle? It was better for them to reorganize and become decentralized.

Grabbing the nearest Uber, Alex swiftly headed out from his final hotel back into the city. In an hour he would be a short walk away from his destination.

Once more he passed a small café, the occupants lived their lives without concern. They lived in harmony as the world continued to turn. The early-day light shined upon the many tables scattered all around. Pancakes, coffee, hot chocolate. They were all being served in these frozen times.

Passing by the small shop, the Marshall Deputy moved through a small gate and into the confines of a police station on the corner. Moving past reception, he hurried up the second floor, where offices were littered all throughout the building.

“Alex! Thanks for stopping by,” Police Sergeant Dan Weston, the same from Silverstone case, welcomed the deputy with tired eyes, and an exhausted hunch. He had forgone his blouse and wore his undershirt proudly as he motioned for him to take a seat at his desk.

“Joe?” He thumbed towards a coffee maker in the back of the room.

“Appreciated.”

Rising from his office chair once more he stumbled over to the machine and swiftly poured out two cups of coffee with brutal efficiency. Within in ten seconds he had walked across the room twice and delivered the unhealthily large cup to the deputy. With his graying hair, Dan held an old charm to how he conducted himself.

Alex was grateful for the hospitality. He needed a short break after driving for days on end. His vehicle even broke down, so he was stuck paying hand over fist to get back safely. He took a quick sip of black coffee making the sergeant raise an eyebrow.

“So, what are we looking at, why am I here again?”

“I got a bead on that lead for Silverstone case.”

“I see, what is it?”

“We tracked the boss that ran the whole Christmas event in the park.”

“He’s important? How?”

“Justin Mallon is also buddy with the city mayor. We’re looking into a money trail that cycles back to the cartels, but I’ll be honest we’re not making much progress.”

“So, do you want assistance? It’ll be through federal means, so part of your precinct will be federalized.” Alex seemed reluctant to offer.

“As much as I would appreciate the extra hands around the office. That’s a no.”

“Figured as much.”

“Thanks for lending a hand, I may cash in a private request.”

“So, the best I can do for you right now is put a face to the name.” Dan explained as he retrieved a manila folder from the side of his desk. Alex raised an eyebrow as he opened the flap, peering at the contents. It seems this precincts evidence locker was loose to other officers.

Today…it was getting better by the second.

“These are mine?” Alex questioned.

“Take em, all yours.”