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Part 1, Chapter 1
🕑 Added 2024-04-28 11:55:17 +0000 UTCMitchell’s phone buzzed and he tapped to answer, bringing the phone to his ear.
“Hey, you parking?”
Andy’s deep, rumbling voice came through the phone, his Chicago accent still thick even after five years in Phoenix.
“Unfortunately, no. Jessica’s suddenly not feeling well. I think the sushi didn’t agree with her.”
In the background, a female voice came through the phone’s speaker.
“I’m so sorry, Mitchell!”
“We’re rushing back home,” Andy continued. “She’s having some pretty severe intestinal distress. But look, watch it without us. We’ll pay you back. They’re supposed to be playing Barbarella next week and it’s on us, okay?”
“Yeah, sure,” Mitchell said. “Don’t worry about it. Tell Jess I hope she feels better. And if you happen to let slip that I warned her about eating sushi in a land-locked state, I wouldn’t be upset.”
Andy chuckled.
“Maybe when she feels better. I already tried telling her that black guys from the South Side had no business eating sushi anyway, but she’s trying to expand my horizons. Sorry again, dude.”
Mitchell heard a groan from Jess in the passenger seat.
“Five more minutes, babe.” Then back to Mitchell. “Got to go. Need to focus on the road. Enjoy the movie.”
“No worries. Good luck.”
The call ended and Mitchell stared at his phone for a second.
“Well shit,” he thought to himself.
It sucked about Jessica but what could you do? Now he had three tickets and no one to watch the movie with. He looked at the crowd of people heading into Filmbar and wondered if he should be the guy that watched a movie alone. It was a surprisingly cool night for Phoenix in June and it seemed a shame to waste it. He thought about calling Madison but nixed the idea almost immediately. They weren’t scheduled for their first date until next Wednesday and this was very short notice. Springing an invitation on her like that might send out some creep vibes so he decided it was best to leave her alone. Before he could decide whether to watch the movie or go home a voice spoke up behind him.
“I am thinking we have same problem.”
Mitchell turned and saw a woman standing behind him. An absolutely stunning woman. Mitchell’s tongue actually went heavy in his mouth at the sight of her.
What he noticed first was her height, almost as tall as his six-foot-one frame. Her black hair was long and cascaded in waves down her shoulders. She was wearing a braided leather headband that had several small gemstones woven into it. Her eyes were slanted but they didn’t resemble the eyes of Asian people he’d met before. She had the epicanthic eye fold but her eyes were angled slightly upwards, and there was a purple tint to them. They looked almost alien but he found he was captivated by them. He thought the color must come from colored contacts but they didn’t have that flat glassy look. Maybe it was the light from the marquee. Her skin was pale and she had startlingly high cheekbones and a narrow jawline framing a heart-shaped mouth with plump dark-red lips. He thought she looked to be in her early twenties but something about her face gave her a presence, an intensity, that few people that age would have.
She was wearing a light tan trench coat, a plain white blouse that buttoned up the front, a pair of faded jeans, and simple white canvas shoes. She was thin but her shoulders were wide and he could see her powerful trapezius muscles just beneath the collar of her shirt. He couldn’t see her arms but if her shoulders were that well developed, she must work out.
Mitchell stammered as his brain re-engaged and he tried not to look like an idiot.
“The, uh… The same problem?”
She gave him a shy smile.
“My friend suddenly is saying she is not coming and she is having my…pass.”
Her accent was strange and lilting. He wanted to say it was Russian or from some Baltic state but he couldn’t be sure. The light reflected off the gemstones in her headband suddenly and it flashed, causing him to blink.
“Maybe we can be going together?” she said hopefully.
Mitchell had the sudden urge to do whatever she suggested. He couldn’t figure out why but he knew he definitely wanted to see Godzilla with this beautiful woman.
“Yeah! Yeah, sure. I’ve got extra tickets. So it’s no problem. Let’s go! I’m Mitchell, by the way. What’s your name?
The strange woman gave him a dazzling smile and Mitchell was suddenly so happy he felt like doing a dance right there on the sidewalk.
“I am Allora.”
“That’s a great name.” He meant it. Her name sounded like music. "What the hell is wrong with me?"
“It’s great to meet you Allora. After you.” He indicated the double doors and she ducked her head in a slight bow and walked towards the door, pausing to let a few people in ahead of her.
She walked in just in front of him and then stopped inside the door. He stepped around her and walked toward the bar.
“Do you want anything to drink? Some wine or beer, anything? They have some food too.” When there was no answer he turned to see her still standing at the entrance. She wasn’t looking at him, she was scanning the people already in the lobby and she had one hand tucked inside the flap of the overcoat. There were about twenty others milling about, most in pairs or small groups. He saw her eyes suddenly lock on something and she tilted her head as if studying it. He followed her gaze and saw she was looking at a back corner where one of the emergency exit signs was lit up above a door with a push bar. There was a hardness to her face that Mitchell hadn’t noticed before. He walked up to her.
“Hey, uh, is everything okay?”
Allora blinked, then brought her piercing gaze back to him. Her eyes were still tinged purple. That was wild, he thought. A girl with purple eyes! In a flash, her face was soft again. Her hand came out of her coat and she gave him a small half smile.
“I am sorry. There is being food?”
“Yeah, they have a small but decent menu. And a good selection of wine and beer.”
“I am being a little hungry but I am not having coin.”
“Hey, no problem,” Mitchell said immediately. “My treat.”
She gave him a puzzled look.
“A…” she hesitated as if choosing her words carefully. “A gift?”
Mitchell wanted to smack himself. English obviously wasn’t her first language. “Yeah. I’ll buy it for you. Don’t worry.”
“You are being most kind, thank you.”
Her eyes left his and she started watching everyone in the lobby and bar again.
He walked her up to the bar and they grabbed a couple of empty seats. They still had about forty minutes before the movie was supposed to start so there was plenty of time to eat.
As she settled into the bar stool next to him he grabbed the menu and placed it between them. She glanced at it but then looked at him.
“What will you be eating?” she asked.
“Uh… Well, they have a great bacon cheeseburger here. Also, they serve seasoned fries instead of regular, which is always a plus. And the milkshakes are amazing! They use real ice cream, not the stuff you get at fast food places.”
Allora blinked at him and he got the sense that she didn’t have the faintest clue what he was talking about. But she gave him a warm smile.
“I will be having that.”
“Okay, my kind of woman,” Mitchell said with a chuckle. “Ice cream flavor?”
She raised her eyebrows at him.
“Let me guess. Whatever I’m having?”
“Yes.”
Mitchell turned to the bartender who was watching him with a very puzzled expression on his face. He looked from Allora and back to him, then back to Allora again.
“You, uh… You ready to order?”
“Yeah. Two bacon cheeseburgers with fries, two mint chocolate milkshakes, and two of whatever pale ale you have.”
The bartender—Dane going by the nametag—jotted it down.
“Sure thing.”
The waiter stared at Allora again and his eyes lingered. She noticed and met his gaze without flinching. Dane blinked first, nodded to Mitchell, and said “Be right back with your beers.”
Mitchell watched him go and tried to make sense of his behavior.
“Sorry about that,” he said, turning back to Allora.
“Why you are sorry?”
“I don’t know, just the way he was staring at you. It was kinda weird.”
“It is being alright. Maybe he is knowing I am not from this place.”
Her lips curled into a small, cryptic smile.
“Where are you from, anyway?” Mitchell asked. “Your accent is… unusual. I’m not sure I’ve ever heard anything like it. I went out with this Russian girl in college very briefly and I thought maybe you were Russian but you don’t sound anything like her.”
Allora studied his face for a moment and if Mitchell had to guess she was making up her mind about something.
“Not from…” She paused and it looked to him like she was trying to repeat the word he used but gave up. “...that place. No. My home is… Far away. Maybe you are not knowing it.”
“And what brings you to Phoenix? Are you a student?”
There was silence for a moment as she appeared to process the question but just then the beers arrived, brown bottles already dripping with condensation. Rather than answer him she turned her attention to the two bottles.
“This is the… pale ale?”
“Oh, yeah. Never had it before?
“No.”
“It’s pretty good.”
She watched as he picked up his bottle and took a drink. Only after Mitchell had placed it back on the bar did she pick hers up, bring it to her nose for a sniff, then bring it uncertainly to her lips. Her first sip was tentative and he saw her move it over her tongue. Then her eyebrows rose she pulled the bottle back to examine the label, then brought it back to her lips and took a much bigger drink. She downed nearly half of it before setting it back on the bar. She was grinning.
“Good!” she exclaimed.
Then she burped and giggled, covering her mouth with the back of her hand.
“It is being very different than ale in my home.”
“Glad you like it.” He picked his up and tapped it to the neck of her bottle with his. “Cheers. To chance encounters!”
Allora blinked, looked at his bottle, then back to hers, picked it up, and did the same to his. It clinked pleasantly and she took another drink, this time finishing it off.
“Woah, might want to slow down if you haven’t eaten anything yet.”
Another small burp escaped her lips and she set the bottle down with a grin.
“Yes. We should be eating first.”
Her purple eyes met his once more and Mitchell almost lost himself. He’d never seen eyes like that before. Screw the movie, he thought. I just want to sit here and talk with her!
“Mitchell…” She said his name in a most interesting way. She curled her tongue far back in her mouth for the ‘L’ sound and he found he wanted her to keep saying it. “Are you having a…profession?”
“A job? Yeah, of course. I’m a data analyst for a cosmetics company.”
Her eyebrows pressed together and he watched her try to form the words. “Da da an-sis. An-a-sis.” Her face twisted in apparent frustration at her inability to nail the pronunciation. Giving up, she looked at him again.
“This is good profess– Is being good job?” She said the word job with a little too much ‘h’ and an extra syllable. It sounded like ja-hab.
“It’s not bad. Mostly I just sit in an office and look at sales data and try to find out where our advertising is the most effective. A little boring, if I’m being honest.”
This close to her he could see her eyes watching his mouth intently and it took her a moment to respond.
“I am sorry. Is being hard to understand this language.”
“It’s alright. My fault. I should talk slower and maybe use simpler words. I basically find ways for other people to make more money. Coin.” He amended, grinning at the new terminology. “I find a way for other people to make more coin.”
Allora nodded, apparently getting the gist of it.
“And… Are you having wife or husband? Partner?”
“Ah, no. I’m single. No partner.”
She nodded to herself then and said something under her breath. It sounded like ‘is being easier’ but he couldn’t quite be sure.
“What about you? Married? Boyfriend? A girlfriend?”
“No,” she wobbled her head a little bit in a way Mitchell found odd. Maybe that meant ‘no’ where she was from. “Family?” she continued. “Are you having family?”
“Parents live in Oregon, I have a sister in her second year of college at Oregon State. No major. Says she hasn’t ‘discovered her passion yet’. What about you?”
A frown creased her full lips.
“No family,” she answered plainly.
“You… don’t like talking about yourself very much, do you?”
Her eyes weighed him for what felt like a long moment. He tried to read her face to get some indication of what she was thinking however, her beautiful but alien face was smooth and expressionless.
“I…” She began, before another brief pause. “I am being private person sometimes. But maybe I can be telling you more another time.”
“Okay, I can respect that. Just feels more like an interrogation than a conversation but I can be patient.”
“I am being grateful for your understanding.”
Mitchell was searching for something that she might be willing to talk about when their food arrived and he was saved. “Right back with your milkshakes,” Dane told them. He seemed to avoid looking at Allora.
Once again, she stared at the food with open curiosity. “Have you not had a burger before, either?”
She picked up the top of the bun and looked underneath, then brought her nose in to sniff it. “No,” she said while sticking a finger into the melting cheese. She brought it to her lips and tasted it and made a sound of pleasure as the melted cheddar hit her tongue.
“You’re kidding? You’ve seriously never had a burger? Like not even Mcdonald's or Burger King?”
Her head made that small wobbling gesture again and he thought for a moment she was going to get angry, something flashed behind her purple eyes, but it passed. Instead, she only smiled slightly and said, “No. Where I am from we are not having this food.”
“Well, dig in!”
The burger was almost but not quite too big to be eaten in a single bite. To Mitchell’s mind, if a burger was so big that you couldn’t get all the components into your mouth in one bite, it wasn’t a burger, it was an upright meat salad. One should not need a fork and knife to enjoy a good hunk of ground beef.
“Mmmm, ohmagod!” Mitchell exclaimed as the first bite slid home.
She was staring at him again, watching his movements carefully and he suddenly felt slightly embarrassed for how much he was enjoying the food. He’d had a hell of a day at work and had skipped lunch, so he was starving.
“Sorry, I’m just really hungry.”
He reached for his beer and Allora turned her attention back to her plate. She picked the sandwich up and brought it to her mouth. After sniffing it once more, her dark lips opened and she took a big bite. He watched her closely, trying to gauge her reaction to her first burger but it wasn’t hard to spot. Allora chewed slowly a couple of times. Then her eyes went wide and she grinned
“Mmm!” she vocalized through a mouthful of food. She powered through her next few chews and, barely stopping for a breath, took another large bite. A large dollop of ketchup ended up on her lip and Cameron couldn’t help but laugh. She looked so adorable he almost didn’t want to give her a napkin.
After that, what conversation they were able to have became sporadic and mostly about the food. He had to demonstrate the ketchup and fries to her but she seemed to enjoy those, too. She polished her burger off a lot faster than him and went after the fries with a similar amount of gusto. She’d mostly ignored their shakes that had come just moments after the burger but once the fries were gone she turned her attention to the tall vintage soda shop glass that contained the mint chocolate concoction. After a little more sniffing and watching him pull up the milkshake through the oversized straw, she copied his motions once more and practically inhaled the frosty dessert. He cautioned her to slow down, wanting to warn her about brain freeze but it was too late. Allora sucked in a huge breath and her face contorted in pain. Both hands came up to the sides of her head and she pressed. A small groan came from her throat and she cursed. At least that’s what it sounded like, although he couldn’t make sense of it.
“Stolar’s burning cock!” she hissed.
“Yeah, probably should have warned you,” Mitchell said apologetically. “I should have guessed you’d never had ice cream before.
She sucked in a few more breaths and looked at him, her cheeks going slightly red. “Not being your fault. I should not be eating so much. But it is being very good.”
He cautioned her to drink a little slower and they continued their meal.
Her plate was clean before he’d polished off his fries and she was slurping up the last bits of her milkshake before he’d gone halfway through his. “You know,” he said between sips. “I admire a woman with an appetite.”
Her food coma was beginning to settle in and she slouched back on the bar stool, one hand over her stomach and the other hanging limply at her side. Before she could respond a loud burp erupted from her throat and got the attention of several people nearby. Her eyes darted around and she dipped her head in a conciliatory manner to the woman next to her who she’d startled out of a phone conversation.
“Feel better?” Mitchell asked her, amused.
Her eyes slid lazily over to him and she smiled. A big smile this time, not the small ones she seemed to favor. This one reached her violet-flecked eyes.
“Yes. I was being little hungry. Mostly I am eating fruit for some days.”
“Ah,” Mitchell said, understanding. “My sister is always doing fruit cleanses. Usually, she’s an irritable bitch for a week, then she folds and eats a whole pizza.”
Allora’s head cocked sideways at his words but she didn’t respond.
“Anyway, I’m glad you enjoyed it,” pressing on past her stoicism. “Whenever you’re ready we can head into the theater.”
Allora excused herself to the ladies' room while Mitchell paid the check. As the bartender was handing back his card and the receipt, he asked, “Hey man, what language was she speaking?”
Mitchell blinked. “Huh? What are you talking about?”
“The girl. What language was that?”
“Um… English?” Mitchell slid the card back in its place in his wallet and returned it to his back pocket.
“I’m not trying to be rude,” Dane continued. “I’ve just never heard a language like that. I only want to know where she’s from.”
“I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about. She has an accent, sure but she was speaking English.”
Dane looked annoyed for a moment and Mitchell thought he might press the issue but had no idea why he would. It was a ridiculous thing to argue about. After a couple of tense seconds, Dane decided to let it drop.
“Whatever,” he said, his voice curt. “Enjoy the movie, sir.”
He turned back to the small dishwasher they had behind the bar and began to unload the cocktail glasses and beer mugs that had just finished their cycle.
Mitchell shook his head and went to stand by the theater doors to wait for Allora.
*****
Mitchell had seen Godzilla a bunch of times but still loved the campy fun of it. His dad was an old movie buff so he’d grown up watching stuff like this. Allora confessed to never having seen it but he couldn’t say he was really surprised. If she’d never had a burger and milkshake what were the odds that she’d seen a nearly seventy-year-old Japanese horror film? Even so, her reaction to the film surprised him. She visibly cringed at the noise, for one thing. Almost like her ears weren’t comfortable with the surround sound. As the rubber-suited monster began its obliteration of the oft-destroyed city of Tokyo, she was looking around constantly and flinched several times when a building was crushed or a car hit a power line and exploded. Mitchell had to check with her more than once to see if she was okay and she replied each time that she was fine.
Still, he couldn’t help noticing her death grip on the armrests. He saw her reach into her coat a couple of times during some of the bigger fight scenes and he began to wonder if she had some sort of weapon in there.
After the film was over Allora didn’t say anything, even when he asked her what she thought as the credits were rolling. She was still silent as they left the theater. They walked outside and sat on some of the patio seating and she only gave noncommittal sounds to his few questions. She was quiet for so long that Mitchell started to feel slightly uncomfortable and began thinking maybe it was time to call it a night. Something was clearly bothering her. Right as he was about to suggest they should head to their respective homes, she spoke.
“This moo-vie was being a… fiction?” She said the word strangely, stretching the sound like she was imitating a cow.
“A fiction? Like not real?”
“Yes. It is being a lie?” Her eyes were locked on his as if she could read his mind if she stared hard enough.
Of all the things he thought she might be thinking about during her silent period that certainly wasn’t one of them.
“Of course? Did you think it was real? Do they… Do they not have movies in your country?” Mitchell struggled to comprehend how she could not know what a movie was.
Something changed on her face and she looked like she realized she’d said something wrong.
“I am sorry,” she said suddenly. “Just I am not seeing a moo-vie before.”
“No, it’s okay. I’m sorry to pry, I know you don’t want to talk about it, but are you Amish, by any chance? Are you on that holiday they take? What’s it called?” Mitchell struggled to remember the name. “Rumspringa! Are you on your Rumspringa?”
That might also explain the lilt of her voice. He’d seen where some Amish people spoke with their own accents. A sort of Dutch-tinged English.
She looked puzzled again, as she so often had over the course of their conversations but then she nodded and smiled awkwardly. “Yes. I am being on the…” She paused once again and he could see her mouth attempt to form the words. “The Rum-spring.”
“Your community must have been extremely isolated if you didn’t even know what a movie was. But hey, it’s kinda cool that Godzilla was your first film! It’s a classic.”
“I am being happy your people are not treating the tragic death of so many as entertainment,” she replied. “I was thinking this is a place of madness. And I am seeing no sign of dragons before this movie. Many tall buildings and are having no defenses.”
“Yeah, if someone hadn’t seen anything like that before, I guess I could see how you would make that assumption.”
He decided not to address why she would have expected to see dragons and just filed it away as another of her peculiarities.
“No, it wasn’t real,” he said instead. “And there certainly aren’t any giant radioactive lizards or dragons destroying Tokyo with their fire breath! Those were actors and Godzilla was just a man in a big rubber suit. We like to tell stories of tragedy but where we ultimately win in the end.”
Allora nodded and gave him another one of her small, cryptic smiles.
Thinking over her words, Mitchell decided that would explain how stressed out she appeared during the movie. He couldn’t imagine watching Godzilla and thinking it was some sort of documentary. But then she spoke as if she would have expected to see dragons. Who was this woman? He was both freaked out and drawn to her at the same time. She was definitely not like the girls he usually met up with through dating apps.
“Well, listen, it’s getting kind of late. I can take you home if you want. My car is just around the corner in the parking lot. Or we can call you an Uber if you’re more comfortable.”
She watched him for a long moment and he wasn’t sure if he’d said something to upset her. A pained look passed across her face just then. She suddenly looked very tired.
“Hey, are you okay? Do you need me to call someone?”
She visibly shook and, for a moment, he thought he saw her eyes moisten slightly, but she inhaled sharply and squeezed her eyelids shut. When she opened them she was back to herself once again.
“Yes, I would like if you can be taking me home.”
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a well-folded piece of paper. “Are you knowing this place?”
He didn’t recognize the street name but the GPS should be able to find it easily enough.
“Sure, yeah. Follow me.”
As they pulled out of the parking lot and sped down the street, Mitchell saw her tense up in the passenger seat. She probably hasn’t had much experience with cars, he reminded himself. He kept his speed a little under the limit and sure enough, she relaxed. A little, anyway.
“We should be at your place in about twenty minutes,” he told her. She nodded while looking out the window, taking in the shops that lined so many of the streets in this part of town.
“Your world is being so bright,” she said quietly. “People are walking with no fear of the darkness.”
“Well, there’s crime here, of course. There’s crime everywhere. There are places you definitely should not go at night, places that are dangerous even for the police.”
“But there are being no creatures of the darkness. There is only being other people. No monsters like in your moo-vie.” She looked at him then. “Living here is being easy, I think. Not fighting every day.”
“I guess so. It’s easier than some other places. There are wars going on all the time, people suffering and dying from not enough food, no medicine, things like that. But you’re right. No creatures of the darkness. At least not in this part of the world. People can be pretty shitty all on their own, though”
She didn’t answer after that and they rode in silence the rest of the way. She looked at him several times during the short ride across town. The GPS was taking them down Baseline toward South Phoenix, a part of town where Mitchell knew there were a lot of older single-family homes. Not the nicest area but it shouldn’t be a problem. He wondered what it must be like for her to have grown up the way she did and then to be in Phoenix of all places. She must have been terrified. He tried to probe a little more about her past but she didn’t appear to want to talk. After a few failed questions, he gave up. He could see something was weighing on her. Maybe it was sensory overload. She’d clearly been sheltered her whole life and she’d had a big night.
A short time later Mitchell made a right onto her street and pulled up in front of her house. It was a small ranch-style single-family home, just like the dozen or so other houses that ran up and down the block. Through the glow of a lonely street lamp he could see the yard was in bad shape with scrub grass sprouting out randomly from the hard-packed dirt. The garage door, badly in need of a paint job, was down and the empty driveway was cracked in several places. One window was boarded up with plywood and no lights were on.
“Is this…” He scanned the house and looked at her. “Is this your place?” He had trouble seeing a woman like her living in a place like this. She looked like she belonged in one of those pricey condos where models hung out between fashion shows in Paris and New York. Didn’t the Amish communities provide them with enough money to live relatively comfortably while they were on Rumspringa? This place was a dump.
She looked at him for a moment and there was a painful intensity to her eyes. “Mitchell… Would you like to be coming inside with me? There is something I am wanting to talk to you about.”
“Oh shit!” Mitchell thought to himself. “Here it comes. The pitch.”
Under normal circumstances, he would jump at the chance to go inside anywhere with a woman like her but something was niggling in the back of his mind. He didn’t know this woman. Didn’t know the first thing about her, really. She’d been evasive all night, dodging his questions and now she wanted him to go inside? Was this a cult thing?
“Listen, Allora, I think you’re beautiful and, even though you’ve hardly talked about yourself at all, I suspect you’re a fascinating person with some stories to tell. I’ll give you my number and maybe we can meet again, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to go inside. Not tonight.”
Allora looked away from him then and she was clearly struggling with something. He felt instantly protective of her. Maybe she was in some sort of trouble.
“Hey, are you okay? Do you need me to take you somewhere else? Honestly, this house doesn’t look very safe.”
She looked back to him then and her hand reached across the center console and found his. Her skin was cool and he could feel calluses on her hands as her fingers wrapped around his. She’d done hard work at some point in her life.
“Please, Mitchell. If you are coming in with me I promise I can be explaining. I will be answering your questions. There is being something you must see.”
There was such a pleading in her eyes that it almost broke Mitchell’s heart. Her fingers gripped his and she was strong. He could feel the strength in her hand and it surprised him. Mitchell was no slouch, he worked out, but it felt like she could snap his fingers if she wanted to. He turned and looked back at the house and then back at her.
"This is so stupid," he thought. "This is crazy."
He didn’t know this woman. This beautiful, enchanting woman. This woman with purple eyes who’d never had a cheeseburger and didn’t know what a movie was. This woman who was looking at him with such intensity and desperation that he’d already decided he would fight for her. Even if he didn’t yet realize it himself.
“Alright,” he said. “I’ll go in with you.”
Relief washed over her features.
“But look, if you kill me and harvest my kidneys I’m going to be really upset. Just so you know. I’ll haunt you. Like for real.”
She laughed then. It was a short, clipped thing but he found he wanted to hear it again. “I will not be killing you, Mitchell. Only I am wanting to talk to you and show you something. From my homeland.”
"Don’t go in her house. Don’t do it! This is super weird. She’s super weird! This is how people get sucked into cults or human trafficked!"
“Okay,” Mitchell said, his voice resigned to his fate. “But I warned you. I really will haunt you. Like forever. You’ll never pee in peace again.”
She gave him a reassuring smile and exited the car. He took out his phone and shot a quick text to Andy with the address and instructions that if he didn’t hear from him later to call the police. At least if she did kill him, the cops would have a place to start looking for his body.
Slipping it back in his pocket he stepped out of the car and walked up to where Allora was standing on the sidewalk. The street was quiet around them and a cool breeze was blowing down off the mountains to the south, a real rarity at this time of the year. He could see some lights on in the other houses up and down the block. Someone was playing some music in their backyard and the faint sounds of Mexican polka drifted to his ears. The air smelled like baked asphalt and hot sand.
“After you,” he said.
She nodded and began walking to the house. In his pocket, his phone buzzed. It was Andy.
“Dude, wtf? Are you serious? What are you doing?”
He was about to tap out a quick reply when he walked into Allora’s back. She had stopped halfway up the walk to her front door. Her body was rigid. As he looked around he saw figures emerging from the shadows on either side of the house. Two from the left and one from the right. The one on the right was huge. He looked like he was at least 6’ 5” and all of that was muscle. The other two looked to be equally solid but more of a size with him. All of them were wearing long trench coats.
They stopped about ten feet away forming a rough semi-circle around Mitchell and Allora as they stood just at the edge of the glow of the street lamp. The big one on the right spoke then.
“Doh lahg ven felleye set Allora De Annen. Matrey vosh candelay un setra lar.”
Mitchell peered at the big man speaking. He had a deep, grating voice like rocks in a tumbler. His face was still in shadow but Mitchell could make out a little of it. There was something off about his features. His face was broad and flat and his lower jaw looked like it protruded too far. And was that a… a tusk sticking up from a lower lip?
“Um… Allora? Are these friends of yours?”
She didn’t answer. Instead, she spoke to the big man.
“Then you have come here to be dying,” she hissed.
“Woah, woah. What the hell is going on?” Mitchell said. “You guys need to back off!”
He tried to put some weight behind his words but if this got physical he knew they were in trouble. He was in good shape and he could throw a punch but he didn’t think it would matter much against three of them. And in this neighborhood, no one would bother calling the cops until their bodies were already cold.
The two on the left chuckled and one of them said something Mitchell couldn’t understand, which only brought more laughter.
Allora turned her head slightly back towards him without taking her eyes off the men in front.
“When I am telling you, run for the door!”
Her voice was tight and there was an unmistakable note of command to it.
“Allora, what is going on?”
She didn’t answer, focusing her full attention back on the three men in front. There was a sound in the air, a faint whisper of metal on metal, and the big man on the right pulled a sword from under his coat. An honest-to-god sword! It was long and the polished metal glinted off the yellow glow of the street light behind them.
“Goleck des vosh palen,” The big man said. Clearly, he was some sort of leader. Mitchell had no idea what he was saying but he could sense a certain finality to his voice. A chill ran down his spine.
“Ohhh fuck,” he thought. “I’m going to fucking die. From a sword!”
In front of him, he saw Allora’s hands spread to the side and she had a long blade in each one that she’d pulled from somewhere. Probably what she was reaching for all night, he thought. They weren’t as long as the Big, Dark, and Ugly’s swords but they were longer than Mitchell’s forearms. And they looked wickedly sharp.
“De nah,” she said, her voice carrying an equal amount of finality to it. Suddenly there was a prickling along his skin and Allora flung her hand out toward the two men on the left while her attention was focused on the big man on the right. Mitchell saw a flash of light from in front of Allora but couldn’t see where it came from. It was bright, almost like a camera flash bulb. He saw a rippling of the air that extended from her arm and flowed toward the two men who had begun to draw their own swords.
Before they could extract them fully, the ripple hit both of them and they were thrown back. With a startled cry, they were actually lifted off their feet and thrown through the air a good meter or two before striking the ground hard and rolling into the front wall of the house.
Mitchell hardly had time to process what he was seeing when Allora leapt forward and rushed the big man, blades held out at the ready.
“Jesus, what the fuck?” Mitchell cried out.
There was a flurry of slashes from her blades as the big man staggered back from the ferocity of her attack. He nearly lost his footing as he was driven from the packed earth of the front yard onto the uneven surface of the cracked driveway. His single blade moved in lightning-fast arcs as he tried to deal with the glinting wall of death she’d created with her shorter knives.
Allora spared him a brief glance then and shouted over her shoulder, “Suteck! Suteck osh ifni!”
Mitchell had no idea what she’d just said but remembered her instructions. That sounded like ‘run’ to him. Not sparing a second to see if he obeyed, Allora turned her attention back on the big man and the clang of steel on steel filled the night air once more. To his left, he could see the other two struggling to right themselves. Whatever hit them had knocked them senseless.
He raced to the door as a deep cry of pain came from the big man Allora was fighting. There was another flash of light, this one not as bright as the first one, but Mitchell didn’t stop to see what was going on. He slammed into the front door and started working the knob. Surprisingly, it opened. He rushed inside and heard footsteps just behind him. Fearing one of the attackers he turned and prepared to slam it shut when he saw Allora racing up the walk towards him. He stepped aside quickly and she moved through the door. He could see she was bleeding from the side of her head.
“Bekyuh!” She gave him a push to the side and nearly shoved him into a wall. Holy shit, she was strong!
She slammed the door shut and only then did Mitchell see what was on the backside. It was etched with some kind of chalk or paint with intricate designs that seemed to pull his eyes in. They swirled out in complex geometric shapes and the lines crossed over onto the door frame. It looked almost like some sort of spider web with strange symbols drawn along the edges.
Allora reached into a pocket and brought out a small jewel. It was dark in the house but there was enough ambient light to pick up the tell-tale glint of a cut diamond, emerald, or whatever it was. With practiced efficiency, she took one of the gemstones out of the headband she wore and put in the new one. She dropped the old stone to the floor without a second thought and then placed her hand inside one of the shapes on the door. The stone in her headband flashed again and Mitchell saw light race out of her fingers and along the patterns carved into the door. The symbols glowed with a yellow-orange radiance and then went dark.
“Jesus fuck,” he said out loud. “Allora what the hell is going on?”
