Velli

Dream and I separate so we can finally get some sleep before the mission tonight. I head over to Jeremy’s after a wonderful, drool-filled nap. I consider giving him a phone call, but from my understanding, human contact is necessary for recovery posttragedy. Of course, I text him in advance to open the door for me because everyone—except Dream, apparently—knows not to open the door for random knocks. That was a night, wasn’t it? How was that only a day ago? I take in a big breath, and my cheeks hurt from grinning and thinking about her.

Jeremy’s wobbling footsteps behind the door sober me. He opens the door, looking miserable, and gives me a nod, which I return. With a shrug, he ushers me inside his house to his couch.

“You want anything, man?” he asks.

To ask him for anything feels rude because of his current condition. That walk to the kitchen, a few steps away from where I sit in his living room, feels so far. I imagine the pathway from the living room to the kitchen feels like a stretchy, rubbery tunnel that won’t end for miles.

“Nah, man. Let’s get to planning,” I say solely to encourage him. I prefer to make plans on my own. “Did you find out who the woman was?”

“Yeah.” He collapses into the beat-up couch beside me.

I don’t know if he would have been capable of actually getting me anything.

“She’s the Old Soul.”

Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah.

After Fate’s long outburst, he literally wheezes in my ear because he’s laughing so hard. Which annoys me because he doesn’t have lungs—I don’t think. I can’t blame him, though. I chuckle because it’s funny in the most morbid way.

I told Jeremy to his face I’d kill his grandmother, didn’t I?

The Old Soul is a legend of Division’s Hand but not one that people fight. More like they avoid her. She is human but more like a mythical beast. For our safety, we learned about a couple of legends in this category in health class at my school. Avoiding them is that important.

“So I get it,” Jeremy says. “I know you have to let this one slide.”

Jeremy refuses to look at me. Instead, he stares at the TV in front of him. The black blank screen shows his reflection. His scowling face and thinning, arching eyebrows tell me he doesn’t like what he sees. His face registers both hostility and hopelessness. A tear trails down his cheek.

“You learned about her in health class?” I ask him.

“Yeah.”

“What school did you go to?”

“Crestwell, a small school under the protection of the Heirs. The Black Star Clique watched the bus stops. They did a decent job of making sure trouble never came through the doors, I guess.”

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“Yeah, same deal for me—small school the Heirs protected and a small clique half decent at protecting students at the bus stop. What was your health section called where you talked about her?”

“It’s Easy to Die, Try to Stay Alive.”

“Mine was called ‘Don’t Walk. Run!’ and we had to take it every year since kindergarten. It’s a week-long course that doubled as sort of a spirit rally week where we got to dress up silly. Dress-like-a-teacher day, funky-hat day, stuff like that.”

“Hmm.” Jeremy nods, interested in my company but not my random asides.

“I’ve run into one of the other legends from that chapter before.”

His interest still doesn’t pique at the news. He’s in a mental battle with trying to come to terms with his own reflection. That hurts me a bit. Amelia also hated her reflection. Regardless, I continue my tale.

“Me and a couple of buddies were hanging around a mall after school, looking for some girls to talk to. I wasn’t confident then, for obvious reasons, so I froze like a statue when it was time to talk. Of course, I was relentlessly roasted by the guys for this. So I got upset and was making a big scene of it, and I said that I’d ask the next girl who walked out of the elevator for her number. I stared at the elevator door, not scared at all despite my friends’ taunts. I knew. I knew I’d talk to the girl no matter what happened.

“Then she stepped out. The Whispering Beggar, not as bad as the Old Soul but a frightening force. I’m sure they covered her in your class. In general, she looked no different than the average homeless woman. Heavy clothes for winter during all seasons, a beanie, and knotted hair. She was larger than any woman I’d ever seen. Much larger. Maybe as wide as three men and full cheeks, which seemed to be stuffed with food. Maybe they were.

“Everyone knew not to go near her, not because of the smell, which was strong, no doubt. Her voice was the real problem. She walked the streets, walked in malls, and even walked into houses if someone left their door open. We all learned in health class not to speak to her no matter how much she begged. That’s an easy way to die.

“According to legend, if you walk within five steps of her, she will ask something of you. This could be a dollar, a right eyeball, your firstborn child, or a variety of things no one would want to give up. Now, if you asked anything of her, you would forfeit whatever she asked for against your will. Many people lost a great many things by asking her to leave their houses or by asking her to speak up. I was going to ask for her number.”

Jeremy stops staring at his reflection and cocks his eyebrows at me.

“Only to prove my friends wrong.” I smile. “I didn’t actually want her number. I was arrogant, y’know. Desperate to prove myself.”

What’s changed?

“I walked up to her. I could hear her breathing from twenty steps away. As I walked, we made eye contact. Her whisper felt deafening, a horrible surround sound paralleled with a forceful stench.

“My friends screamed at me to come back. Someone grabbed me. I smacked his hand away. Stiff, chest out, shoulders tight, I walked to her. I had to. I said I would. I heard the stories. I knew the facts. It didn’t matter.

“So wide, what a wingspan she had. She could snatch me. Little pieces of hair covered her face. Swirly. Barely opening her thick pink lips, she whispered, ‘Give me your eternal happiness.’

“I didn’t know what that meant. Still don’t. I opened my mouth to ask for her number, and maybe I got a word out. Maybe that counted. Maybe eternal happiness is a chance at having happiness, and now I’m suffering on life’s hamster wheel. Sisyphus and all that. Regardless, my dad snatched me and flew me out of the mall all the way home.”

Awww, but Daddy isn’t here now, is he?

No, he’s not.

“I know the Old Soul is a different person, Jeremy. I understand that she has killed more and her powers rival the Whispering Beggar. However, Jeremy, I wasn’t afraid of a legend when I was in middle school, and I’m not afraid now.”

Fate tells me how this will lead me to my death and blah, blah, blah, but seeing Jeremy’s smile is worth it. The Old Soul will be my next target.