Chương 4: Chapter 3: The First Mistake

Alice stared at the tiled pavements, her fingers tightening around Cynthia's ever so slightly. She passed by the mutilated woman crawling on the ground and carefully stepped around the long trail of innards. What happened to her? Why do they all look like that? I'm gonna puke… gonna puke… Alice gulped down the acidic feeling curdling in her chest. She raised her gaze slightly and paled. The frog-faced thing blocked the way.

Its belly bloated out of its shirt, stretching the skin so far that it was translucent, with this strange bubbling liquid sloshing inside. Pus oozed from the flaps around its neck and jaw. To the right was the pregnant lady perusing the nearby stall, and to the left was a whole crowd of people. Cynthia showed no signs of slowing. Oh no… we're going to walk right into it. I can't avoid it… even if I tried, it would figure out that I can see it. Do I run? If I run, that would be even more obvious. It's a ghost…

Can I… can I only see them, or can I also touch them? There are so many people here. One of them would have stumbled into it by accident if everyone could touch them. Alice held her breath as they walked up close. Cynthia passed straight through the bloated ghost and pulled Alice through with her. Here it goes… please work… Alice shut her eyes for five seconds, feeling an unnatural cold course through her body. When she opened them, she was already past the bloated ghost. So I just go through them. Thank goodness…

Alice sighed in relief. But I can't lower my guard. I don't want to find out what happens if they know I see them.

"Is the bookstore far?" Alice said. Surely there aren't any ghosts inside a bookstore. Unless ghosts can read books.

"We're nearly there. It's just across the market," Cynthia said. Alice spotted a faint orange glow in the corner of her eye. It came from an Inquisitor standing by the intersecting aisle, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched the many passersby. He's glowing too. What does that mean? They're not ghosts… so what are they? They turned right into another aisle and stopped. There was a line of people in the center, a dozen or so with some mumbling complaints and faint curses.

Two Inquisitors guarded the end of the aisle, wielding their rifles in complete silence. Behind them stood a tall and lanky man clad in filthy rags. Alice's gaze traced its neck upward, and it swelled and stretched like rubber. Its head dangled from the bent end, ogling the people in line from above with a disgusting grin. Alice averted her gaze and muttered, "What's this, Mother?"

"Just a random inspection, just our luck." Cynthia offered the meat basket to Alice.

"Can you hold this for me, dear?" Alice grabbed the basket and gulped. That thing is huge. How does its neck stay up like that? That shouldn't even be possible… focus, just focus on the line. Don't look, and it won't do anything. Cynthia reached into her bag and pulled out three weathered papers the size of her palm. Alice clenched Cynthia's free hand as the line quickly moved. The creature's shadow soon fell upon them when they reached the very front.

A third Inquisitor waited for them, radiating this deep red aura, like flames wafting from his flesh.

"Citizen ID, madam…" The Inquisitor paused, squinting his eyes behind the glass lenses of the mask.

"And your demihuman identification."

"Here." Cynthia handed the three papers. The Inquisitor grabbed them and glanced over the first before moving to the second.

"Spectral Bloodline… seventh generation." He looked back at her, eyes widening.

"You're a seventh generation… Apologies, if I gave you any offense." The creature's neck lurched like a snake, lowering its head right above Alice's. It's looking at me. It's looking at me. Please hurry up.

"You have not." Cynthia shrugged.

"There's just been many reports of heathenry nowadays. We can't be too careful." The Inquisitor glanced at the third paper, his eyes darting toward Alice.

"What about your child, madam? Has she been registered?" A pale face crept in from the corner of her vision, wearing this toothed grin. It's so near. It's right beside me. Mom… hurry up please… Alice gritted her teeth as she focused her gaze on the Inquisitor.

"I was aware only generation eights and below need to register," Cynthia frowned.

"Ah… my honest mistake. You can go ahead." The Inquisitor handed the papers back and stepped aside, giving way.

"Thank you. Come on, Alice." Cynthia strode past the Inquisitors, tugging Alice along. Alice hastened her steps and sighed in relief. She didn't dare look back, nor loosen her grip on Cynthia's hand.

"Were you scared, Alice? Don't worry, Inquisitors are good people. So long as you follow the rules," Cynthia said. I was scared. But not because of them. Still… what was that about? I know about the citizen ID, but what was the other one?

"What's a demihuman identification?" Alice raised her brows. Just ask. Just talk. So you can take your mind off those creatures. Cynthia simply smiled back.

"You'll know when you get older." Great. It's one of those things. Alice pursed her lips as they walked down the aisle, eventually reaching the far end of the markets. The pain in her eyes subsided, and when she blinked, the colors of the world returned. It's gone. For now. But it'll return later. Tall brick buildings stood across the roads, some with glass fronts, others with vivid signs and tablets hanging from the doorways. One in particular caught Alice's attention.

It was a green sign gilded with gold edges, and it read Cranel's Books. Below it was an ornate blue door.

"Is that the place?"

"It is." Cynthia crossed the road, still holding Alice's hand. Cynthia pushed open the blue door, and a bell above them chimed. Alice followed inside, her mouth opening slightly wide. Rows upon rows of bookshelves filled her vision, each filled to the brim with thick and colorful hardcovers. The smell of old wood and paper filled her lungs, and for a moment she forgot all about the creatures outside. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

"There are so many." Alice loosened her grip, restraining the urge to go to a random shelf and start picking out what she fancied.

"They sell all sorts of books, but the ones you like are over here." Cynthia pulled Alice into one of the aisles.

"The ones I like?" Alice raised her brows.

"Fiction novels."

"You mean those. But what about the other books here?"

"They're for grown-ups. Medicine books, law books, history. You wouldn't want to get a headache, would you?"

"No… no, I wouldn't…" Alice quickly shook her head. Still, I'd want to read them even once. But that would be after I read everything else that I like. They stopped in front of two large shelves. A sign hung from the ceiling, reading Fiction Works. Alice gawked at the colorful books lining each shelf, her eyes glittering in want. There were so many; there had to be at least fifty just in this spot alone.

"You can pick two."

"Two? I… I don't know… there are just too many to choose from." Do I just get a random one? But what if I get a boring book? Gods, I need more time to decide. Cynthia hummed.

"Hm, then I'll pick for you." Pick for me? I… I suppose that can work. Every book she's bought for me was good. She grabbed a book from the top shelf, with a red hardcover. Its title, Rayek's End, was written in bold white letters. Then she reached for another on the middle shelf, a brown hardcover with intricate silver linings and designs up front. It was titled Phoenix Down.

"I think you'll enjoy these." Cynthia beamed. Alice smiled back, her eyes glued to the book covers. Ghosts be damned, at least I got something out of this trip. Cynthia pulled Alice along, past many other shelves until they reached a wooden counter on the far right end. An elderly woman with ashen white hair, green eyes, and big round glasses ran the cash register.

"Welcome back, Ms." The older woman said. Cynthia nodded and placed the two books on the counter.

"These two for my daughter."

"Daughter?" The elderly woman peeked over the counter, her eyes widening at the sight of Alice.

"Oh, I almost missed her. She looks just like you." Alice hid behind Cynthia's back and looked out.

"Hello…" I didn't think she'd talk to me. That was a little scary.

"She's a little shy." Cynthia chuckled.

"I can see that. Still adorable." The elderly woman glanced at the books for a moment.

"These two are twelve shillings in total." Cynthia pulled out twelve silver coins from her wallet, placing them in a neat stack on the elderly woman's palm.

"One… two… three… twelve… looks about right. Thank you for buying, Ms. Come back again soon." The elderly woman handed the two books back to Cynthia. Cynthia opened up her bag and slipped the two books inside.

"Come on, Alice, let's go home." Alice followed Cynthia to the front door, and before they left she looked back and saw the elderly woman waving goodbye. Alice tried her best to reply with a slightly crooked smile. I don't want to see the dead anymore… please just stop. When I get back home, I want everything to go back to normal. The ride home was uneventful, and gods, she was glad of it. Alice climbed out of the carriage and followed Cynthia up to their front porch. Cynthia unlocked the door and led Alice inside.

"We should do this more often, you know. You just can't be cooped up inside forever." Alice slipped off her shoes and hung her coat on the wall.

"I guess you're right…" I don't know what's worse. Being inside or outside when I can see those things. Cynthia lowered her bag onto the dining table, while Alice patiently waited behind her. Jaime was nowhere to be seen, probably still doing God knows what in the laboratory. She heard old Stephen shuffling in one of the rooms.

"Oh, I nearly forgot." Cynthia unzipped her bag and pulled out the two thick books.

"Here." At least I have new books. Two of them. Maybe I won't even notice those things when I'm reading.

"Thank you." Alice beamed a giddy smile and snatched the two books, stacking them in her palms. They were lighter than she expected; maybe she could even carry them with one hand, but she didn't want to test her luck.

"We're having dinner at five, okay? I don't want to make Stephen pull you out of your room again."

"I'll go down, I'll go down. Promise." Alice hurried up the stairs and into her bedchamber. She plopped the two books on her desk and locked the door behind her. Door locked. Hopefully there's no one here. She sat down on the sturdy oak chair by the desk and crossed her legs. For a moment, she glanced at herself in the small silver mirror and caught a smile on her lips. Her hands went to the stack of books, but her eyes fell on another book left open on the side.

It was The Adventures of Gallahad, and she had read halfway through it last night. Wait… I should probably finish this one first. But… I want to read the others now. No, no, if I do that, then I won't be able to finish any of them. They're not going anywhere. Alice nodded to herself and pulled The Adventures of Gallahad over. Just like this. Just act normal, and they won't notice. Alice dragged her chair closer to the desk and settled in. After realizing she'd already read this page, she flipped to the next one.

As she glanced over the first sentence, her eyes throbbed in pain. Why? Why now of all times? She winced as the colors of the world faded away. Blinking once, then twice. She saw a pale face in the mirror's reflection, right behind her. She yelped and instantly covered her mouth. She froze stiff, her gaze locked on that face in the mirror. I screamed. I screamed. It heard that. It definitely heard that. The face was a man's, scarred by deep lesions and burns along his jaw.

His eyes were a pitch-black void, and his lips slowly curled upward into this grotesque, toothy grin. A long and swollen neck swerved out of the back of his head, lurching into a body clad in rags.

"You can see me." A distorted voice like screeching iron escaped from his mouth. I'm… I'm going to die… Alice jolted to her feet and hurled the oak chair toward him. It passed right through and banged against the wall.

"Get away—" He grabbed her by the neck and yanked her up, his thick swollen fingers crushing into her throat.

"It has been so long since I tasted human flesh." No! No! Mom! Please! Help me! Mom! She gagged on her scream and flailed, her arms and legs passing through its body as if it were made of thin air. He leaned in, his face inches away from hers. His grin widened, and his jaw unlatched, revealing rows of jagged teeth spiraling down his mouth and into his throat. It's going to eat me. I need to do something… Alice choked for air as the corners of her eyes darkened.

Suddenly, she remembered a scene from The Adventures of Gallahad. The young knight used a sword made of silver to vanquish a raving specter. Silver… silver… She reached for the silver mirror on the desk, grabbing it by the very edge. It stung her fingers, and with all her strength she smashed the mirror against his neck. He screamed and dropped Alice to the ground. His neck twisted like a wrung towel as the skin sizzled and burned, his face contorting in agony. It worked! It worked!

Alice gasped as the mirror seared her hand. With a pained yelp, she let it go and stared at her blackened palm. Why… why did I get burned too? He let out a bloodcurdling scream, his words devolving into a stream of anguished curses. I need to get out! She dashed across the room, slamming into her chamber door. She twisted the knob and pushed it open with her entire body. Stumbling into the hallway, she looked left. The rotting, bloated corpse of a woman looked back at her.

Alice turned right and sprinted past her parents' bedroom door, heading straight for the window at the end of the hall. A bloodcurdling shriek echoed behind her. She curled her left arm, bracing her elbow. Then she jumped side-first and smashed through the window. She shut her eyes, readying to crash straight into the pavement. But the pain never came. She opened her eyes, and she was floating mid-air amid the shards around her. What? What's happening? She twisted her head and looked back.

The long-necked specter stood frozen in the hallway. Then a finger snapped. His head ruptured like the violent bloom of a flower, splattering its white and gray innards across the walls. His body crumpled, revealing Jaime standing behind him all along. He glowed with this ominous silver, emanating from every inch of his skin. Cynthia was beside him, her face full of fright and worry.

"Father…" Jaime waved his hand, and Alice floated toward him. She settled into his arms in a bridal carry, her eyes wide in shock and confusion.

"How peculiar." Jaime muttered, his expression unchanging.

"You can see them." He… he knows about them? I'm not the only one who sees them…

"They attacked her. How… how is that possible? She's just a ninth generation," Cynthia said.

"And yet here we are. It is an anomaly indeed," Jaime said. Cynthia gulped and clenched her fist.

"What are you going to do?" Scared? Why's Mom scared? He already saved me…

"It must be rectified." Jaime cradled the back of Alice's head. Rectified? He… is he talking about me? Her vision darkened, and a strange weakness spread to every part of her body. Her mind slipped into slumber, and she fell limp in Jaime's arms.