Blame it on September, Page 3

  "So..." Byron spoke gently, adding to the effect. "Surprised?" I was speechless. Byron grinned in response to my silence and led me to sit on the edge of the fountain. The cool, smooth surface of the stone was calming.

  "It's perfect!" I whispered. And then I really wished I hadn't jinxed it.

  "Well, hello!” A loud, unfamiliar voice boomed, interrupting the silence of the square. Byron and I both jumped, startled. The voice sounded like it was coming from behind, but when we scanned the shadows for whoever our unwelcome guest was, there was nothing but darkness. We stood, facing the possibility of danger. I started to feel sick.

  "Who's there?" Byron frowned. He took a step forward, putting himself in between me and the unknown. Through the fountain, I couldn't tell if there was really anyone hiding in the dark. There were suddenly multiple voices, all laughing in response to Byron. And then they stepped out of the shadows.

  A gang of six, huge men, some carrying baseball bats, and others were holding metal pipes.

  As soon as they came into sight, Byron crouched into a defensive pose. And he growled. The sound was exactly like the growl of a furious canine. I stared, wide-eyed. Byron glanced back at me, and as he did I saw that he had fangs. His nails had been replaced by terrifying, razor-sharp claws. Only one word came to mind; Werewolf.

  And then he pounced.

  ***

  Shadow of Threat

  Bailey Brydon

  Prologue

  Fear is the human’s most basic survival mechanism. They fear what is unknown and the more that is unknown, the more that fear grows. They have reasoned it is too unpredictable, and grown too comfortable to their normal routines and surroundings. Preconceived conceptions allow them to assume and think the worst when encountered with the unknown. Fear spreads like an uncontrollable disease, that leads to death.

  Humans fear the lack of control, lack of belonging. They fear what they do not have power and knowledge over. The less in control, the less they know, the more the fear becomes unsustainable, and that fear morphs into anxiety and panic. They fear what they do not understand, what cannot be explained. It is because of that fear they do not take chances, the reason they shudder in the dark and are terrified of death. It is that fear that causes conflict, war, and brings them to kill needlessly.

  Fear has no limits. Fear imposters all ages, genders, religions and races. It is also because of that fear that I am illegal.

  Our whole race is, the Dezdriens, the lost souls. It’s the reason I’ve never met my real parents, the reason we are all isolated, taken from birth and smuggled like packages of frozen food to an unknown location. The reason the government “eliminates” all children imprinted by the Aretha goddess from birth. The reason we are on the verge of extinction.

  My name is Trevya Anne, spirit Dezdrien. There are five types of Dezdriens: earth, water, fire, air, and spirit. We live in a location unknown to the outside world. I am writing this not for entertainment, not for interest, and not for myself. I am writing this as a document, one that I hope to spread, to inform the outside world of what our government has been getting away with for decades, without anyone knowing. If by some miracle this letter of documentation survives, I apologize for the briefness of explanation for there is a raging battle approaching us. One we are not prepared for and one that will most likely extinguish the Dezdrien race entirely.

  They are onto us.

  Dezdriens are a race of themselves; we look human, no tentacles or fangs, just human. The only thing seperating us from the normal human race is the imprint in our blood and the color of our eyes. All because of November 7th, a day you do not want to be born on. Once a year on that date, the Aretha Goddess awakens, and must imprint one child with the Dezdrien blood of either water, earth, fire, air or spirit. It is her means of survival, bearing the blood for 11 months before she must birth it to one physical child.

  This is dangerous, for if there is no baby to be born on that day, the baby will be born premature, and usually is unable to take the change in blood, therefore death is the usual outcome.

  However, the larger danger is the government. They are afraid, afraid of what we possess because we have never been given a chance to grow, to show we are not ruthless maniacs. We are not killing machines or immortals in search of world domination. No, we simply want someone, anyone, to take a chance, to look past their fear and help every other human to do so.

  The government has manipulated parents and society for decades. Keeping eyes on every maternity ward on November 7th and scanning entire areas for days afterwards for that one bearing child. When they find that baby, they exterminate him or her, using an unnoticeable syringe to insert a toxic poison into the infant’s forehead, allowing it to travel to the brain in seconds.

  Of course they do this all secretly, usually when a babysitter isn’t paying attention, or at night when the parents are too wound up in their sleep to detect anything. Of course it becomes suspicious, people suspect foul play. But again their fear drives them away from concluding that the government could ever be responsible for the plotted deaths. And on the rare occasion when that fear is penetrated, the government makes sure they too are exterminated, again secretly.

  No, I do not have all of the answers as to why or how exactly we are created, what purpose we possess. But all that I do know, you soon will too, and I hope you spread the word. Or, if your fear overrules, I hope you can find the strength to hide the letter somewhere someone may find it again, and so the domino effect will take place until one human is able to penetrate that wall of fear.

  There are five categories of Dezdriens, as I have mentioned. We all have very human like features, although our eyes make it easy to distinguish exactly what blood we bear. Earth bearers have shimmering emerald eyes, almost clover like. Fire, the most obvious is a blazing bloodshot red; the colour wavers almost like a real flame is lit behind their eyes. Water is also quite obvious, a torturous mesmerizing royal blue, lapping at the bearer’s eye lids like salty sea waves.

  Air is probably the more intimidating for it often looks as if the Dezdrien has no eye at all, nothing but an endless pool of a cloudy white. Spirit bearers, including me, possess a bright flowery violet colour. Each category of Dezdrien has control over their element, each very useful in different circumstances, although we rarely use our powers outside of learning how to simply control them in a safe protected and monitored environment.

  Somehow, the government has discovered our location. Whether there is a betrayer among us, or simply the governments doing, we all are in grave danger. Most of our young and elders have been killed off because they were unable to defend themselves. We have done our best to keep up the front, to remain strong and protect each other, but when you’re protecting so many people at once in all directions, there’s bound to be casualties.

  I’m sure if this story gets out they will try to trick you into thinking we implied threat, that we used unnecessary force towards them. But it was quite the opposite. When the government first sent specialists to exterminate us, they told us we would be one way or another, and they were fully equipped with syringes and bottles of toxins that were said to be painless. They asked who wanted to be first. As if we would give up what we had left of our freedom so they could kill us. When we refused, they brought in military troops, hundreds of armed men and women, and they attacked from the moment they hit land. Thankfully, there was no ammunition or explosives brought with them. We think they were simply trying to scare us into submission. When we still refused, they crafted their own weapons, using daggers, knives and any other devices they would use to terminate us with. We did not fight back; we simply defended ourselves in any way necessary. Then it became beyond the point of survival, and we attacked back. We did not use our powers.

  Our race depends on your courage to stand up for us, we depend on you to conquer your fear before they conquer us, and numbers are decreasing at an uncountable pace. By the time someone finds this, we will probably be extin
ct. But at least we will be known, even if we have been living in the shadow of threat.

  ***

  Present Battle

  I stopped a moment, bending down to drag the knife along the grass washing off blood the best I could. I hadn’t worried about it until now. I think I was just trying to ignore the motionless bodies piling up all around me, and the ones still falling. At the beginning of the week, we had been defending well. Our first orders were to defend each other as best as possible, do not attack. Then it turned to attack your enemies, leave the ones who do not imply threat. Then do whatever you have to, get rid of them. Then kill them. Then, the last then, just focus on surviving.

  I could still hear screams from behind me. I drew my dagger, my heart in my mouth, and started running towards the general commotion. As two men had surrounded one of our Dezdriens, her eyes snapped to me pleading for rescue as the men continued to circle her like vultures. I could tell by her general stance, a defensive one, and the shimmering black hair descending down her shoulders that it was Willow. One look into those white disks and I took off towards the enemy, who hadn’t seen me yet. I braced myself and lunged forward with as much stealth as possible, hoping by the time the other man saw his partner fall, I’d already be on him.

  The dagger did its job well, piercing the man and making sure he wouldn’t fight again. He turned to face me, eyes emotionless, dying and wronged. I turned my face away unable to comprehend what I just did, what I had been doing for the past week. It didn’t take me long after that. I grabbed the previous mans sword and stabbed at his partner. This man was prepared, having seen his friend fall. I swung again, slicing into the man’s ribs. He howled in agony and dropped to his knees.

  I looked about me, the whole scene so inhumane, every grain of blood splattered sand traced with the stench of fear. I mentally scolded myself, wishing I could close my eyes for just a moment to block out the scene, knowing the moment I did there would be a knife piercing my own neck. Stop it! Stop thinking about it and just do what you have to!

  I withdrew the sword from his side, keeping my gaze up not wanting to look at the fear illuminating his eyes. I looked around for my next move of attack, and as I did I felt a force flying into my back. I fell face forward into the ground before scrambling as fast as I could, trying to get in a defensive position, so at least it would be a fair fight. I finally stood seeing another woman, in her twenties snarling back at me. She had a carved stick, old style but deadly enough.

  I started circling her, testing her ability to move, when I sensed a presence behind me, all too late. A hand clamped over my mouth driving my lip into my tooth, until I felt it pierce my skin and my mouth filling with coppery liquid. I drew the hand my dagger was in, swinging it forward then back, slicing blindly hoping to catch my captors leg my only chance to free myself.

  He saw me draw it and grasped my wrists, shaking them until I dropped both weapons. He held me still as the woman closed in on me and started pushing her stick towards my neck. I started to close my eyes unwillingly.

  Suddenly, the woman’s eyes wretched up her mouth opening into a scream and I felt the grasps on my wrists loosen as I heard a sickening thud behind me. I flew forward immediately twisting the stick in her hands and chopping it back against her neck while she was still in shock.

  I turned to see my savior. Aaron, a broad shouldered male was finishing off the man he just knocked unconscious to the ground, severing his head at his neck.

  His lips upturned slightly as he finished looking up to me. There was an ear-piercing scream from behind me and both our eyes snapped to the voice, an elder woman being beaten to the ground by an unarmed male. The smile faded instantly from Aaron’s face.

  “I got it,” he said simply, starting to run in the direction of the woman, craning his neck to look at me as he mouthed, “You owe me.”

  I turned away and started walking, stepping over bodies some lying in pools of their own blood. I glanced quickly at the sky noticing it was almost sunset, which meant another night shift.

  Exhaustion overwhelmed me as I looked about dreary eyed. As I did, I caught strawberry blonde hair running towards the edge of a cliff, towards the crackling waves whipping the daggered rocks. I watched almost knowing what was going to happen, but unable to process it.

  She’s going to jump I thought. She’s going to end her life because she’d rather risk death than stay another moment witnessing this. I took off running towards the water yelling for her to stop. I screamed until my lungs felt like they were being engulfed in billowing flames. She was completely unaware of me, completely unaware of everything around her, the merciless killing; the only thing she saw was those rolling waves and a chance of escape. She jumped.

  I dashed as fast as my feet could carry me and plunged into the water, the bitter cold sending a gasp through me as I clenched my teeth together. I dove back under ignoring my pleading body as it shivered violently. I opened my eyes the salt stinging them as tears mixed in with the sea.

  I saw wavering blonde hair at the bottom, almost plantlike. I grabbed it and pulled with everything I was, but there was no fight. I gasped as I broke through the surface and pulled myself and the girl to a rock peeking out of the water. Once I was on the stone, I locked my arms under hers and tugged until she was on her back facing the sky. I pressed my fingers to the cavity in her neck ignoring the blood seeping from her head where she probably hit a rock. I felt nothing. I stood up on the rock and looked down on her, Her eyes were still open, staring at the darkening sky, the misty veil in her gaze telling me she was gone.

  I could see now, that her eyes were a daring denim blue. I also knew from those eyes that it was Levana, a thirteen-year-old, who had met up with a cousin here, the only one to ever find someone from their family. From this angle I could also see it wasn’t just a wound on her head; an entire proportion of the left side of her skull had been chipped off, exposing all kinds of stomach churning things.

  I shuttered looking back ashore, and this time hastily swam back not wanting to re-enter but knowing I had to.

  The moment I reached the beach the war began. I quickly picked up a lost blade tied around a stick for more length as someone ran blindly passed me, eyes locked on a Dezdrien already fighting off three humans. I stuck my foot out, simply tripping him and he turned over eyes wide in shock. I chopped down hard onto his neck.

  Another human tried to sneak up on me, but I saw him out of the corner of my eye, turned around and thrust the blade into the man’s belly. I was almost relaxed now and I hated it, hated I had grown use to the endless killing and gotten used to doing the killing myself.

  I noticed another enemy stabbing down into one of our Dezdriens. I ran towards him and kicked the man in the stomach, my rigged shoes with spikes sticking out of them stabbing into his stomach. He doubled over and I brought my sword down hard onto his back as his limb sprayed in every direction before he stilled eternally.

  I looked down at the Dezdrien below me, my mouth opened in horror looking into those glinting emerald eyes. Desiree. The named turned over in my mind over and over again. My best friend. I stood frozen knowing I had to move, knowing I was a sitting duck standing here, mourning. Yet I couldn’t move. My boots had turned to iron, clamping my feet in their spot.

  Her once shimmering and captivated emerald eyes were now faded lusterless shadows of themselves. Her stark black strands of hair turned a silvery metallic color. Her eyes were up, staring at me, seeing nothing. My hands trembled as I bent down slowing closing her eyelids.

  I sensed the presence behind me all too late. I rolled forward doing an almost somersault over Desiree. I had set my blade down when I had closed her eyelids, and I was unarmed. He flung forward as I scanned the area for something to use; bad mistake. He started to bring his arm down, holding a shovel, and I grabbed it pushing it back up my hands trembling against his strength. I made eye contact with him. He started back, his eyes a blazing fire of fury. I struggled to free myself, kickin
g my legs furiously hoping one of them would make contact. He brought his leg back and swung it into my side and I lunged forward, gasping for air as my head made contact with the rusted shovel.

  He stood up; I stayed down, not worried about what was going to happen. My body fluttered peacefully, and all the noise and chaos around me ceased. I knew that if I let go, I'd be setting myself free. Free of this hatred and violence. As the shovel came down making contact with me again, a blow meant to kill, this time I felt nothing. Just the calmness of the clouds as they swirled above as I took my last breath, I think, and blackness took over.

  ***

  The Murder of Amily Knir

  Brenna de Montbrun

  When Amily Knir was young she used to talk to people. This would be normal, if there were people there. But there weren't, and so it wasn't.

  At first Amily's parents thought it was cute. They'd ask her about them and tell their friends funny stories about all the odd things had told them that her 'imaginary friends' had. And why shouldn't they have thought it was cute? After all, many small children have imaginary friends.

  As other children outgrew their imaginary friends and made real ones, Amily kept on talking to hers. Soon Amily's parents stopped thinking Amily's 'friends' were cute and started to suspect their darling daughter was not quite so normal as they once thought.

  So, one quiet day in December, Amily's parents finally got up the nerve to talk to her. They sat her down at the kitchen table and politely asked her to stop talking to her friends. They told her they weren't real, and so she wouldn't miss them. They told her she would make new friends, real friends. Amily was around ten, and she had been talking to her 'friends' as long as anyone could remember. This is why her parents were so surprised and relieved when Amily took the news easily.

  However, Amily's parents' relief was short lived, because after Amily stopped talking to her 'friends' she started talking less and less to everybody else, until one day she stopped talking at all. This made her parents more worried than ever, and so after she’d not spoken a single word in months they rushed her to the doctor.