A/n: I decided to publish this story on my birthday, to celebrate the official "end" of my childhood by composing a crossover between cartoons that highlighted it.

Seriously, this story was a long time coming. Ever since 2015, I've been striving to create the perfect crossover between two of my favorite "girlish" cartoons, Winx Club and Ever After High. Three long years starting and scrapping potential storylines, all of them incredibly juvenile—I've published some as well as deleted some. None of them truly satisfied me, so I spent years brainstorming. Eventually, I started to give up—"maybe it just wasn't meant to happen," I often told myself. But then one day, on a late-July afternoon of 2018 (so about 3 months ago), a golden idea appeared to me out of nowhere. And then everything fell right into place. I was elated! Finally, after all this time, I'd found The One. Once I had the foundation of my story, it was actually pretty easy to build upon it. And thus, Sisters in Flame was born.

Sure: I might be too old for both shows, but I don't give a damn. This has been an old dream of mine, especially since EAH is what inspired me to become a fan fic author in the first place. Though it was extremely cringe, I wrote one of my first fan fictions all the way back in 2013 when EAH first came out—which is also around the time I created this account. I'd always known I'd been born to be an author and it was EAH that put me on the path to becoming one.

Speaking of EAH, it's such a shame Mattel laid it to rest back in 2017. Goodbye to the cartoon that put me on this rewarding journey. Had I never tried my hand at that story five years ago, O Wondrous Wielder of the Winds, the story that literally gives me life and encouraged me to mature in my overall writing, would not exist. On the bright side (sarcasm), season eight of Winx Club is set to look just like it from what I can tell from the few promos Rainbow's unveiled so far. This should be interesting.

Well, I've kept you long enough. Read on, reader, and enjoy! The publishing of SIF is my birthday gift to myself, a fulfilling of a promise I made to a younger me a long time ago, so I really hope I did decent on this first chapter (for some reason, introductions are always the hardest to write). Please be sure to leave a review at the end! Feedback feeds my resolve. TYSM!

(Credit to ChiioUnicorn for chapter format)

Once upon a time, there lived two mighty Queens.

one to embrace the stars, and make them complete

the other to stomp out their ethereal light under her feet.

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Once upon a time, there were two mighty sisters

of love and prosperity was the Good Sister's throne

but it was the Dark Sister who perched on blood and bones.

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Once upon a time, there were two Chosen Ones

to heal and guide, that was the Good's power

'twas her opposite whose sole purpose was to poison and devour

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Once upon a time, there were two mighty saviors,

to deliver their people is what they both swore

all hail the Apostles, of both Peace and War.

/

Once upon a time, there lived two mighty Queens, forged from the same flame

though of opposing sides, they were each other's counterpart

though as different as night and day, they were joined at the dragonheart.

ღ Sisters in Flame ღ

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Prologue

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The Awakening

January 28th

"Oh my god, Bloom! Did you see how Andy was checking you out?" shouted Mitzi Carmichael over the blaring sound system as she steered her father's BMW onto another woodsy back road.

Bloom Peters' cheeks warmed with satisfaction at the memory. "I-I don't think so," she stammered, though she inwardly prided herself on the fact her ex-boyfriend had been watching her all night. It thrilled her even more to know her friends had noticed too, that they knew a boy—a good-looking one at that—still lusted after her. In a way, it was like she proved to them she wasn't some undesirable loser, even if they'd never implied such a thing.

Stacey Evans, who rode shot-gun, swigged from the wine bottle they'd been passing around and cackled devilishly. "Are you blind? Andy totally has the hots for you. I thought he was going to explode when he saw you dancing with Mark. Wish you would've kissed him just to drive the bastard over the edge."

Brooke Martin rolled her eyes as she accepted the bottle over Stacey's shoulder and drank deeply. "I'm glad she didn't. Trust me, Mark's a terrible kisser, plus he isn't even that cute. Jonas, on the other hand—"

"God, he's so hot," moaned Stacey, "the things I'd do to him. Too bad he's with that Brazilian bitch. God, I wish she'd just get deported or something."

"You mean you haven't heard the news?" asked Mitzi in the same conspiratorial voice she usually reserved for lunch-period gossip sessions, the one that made her scandal-thirsty friends lean closer and incline their ears. "He dumped her yesterday in front of her…."

As Mitzi launched into a dramatic, half-accurate tale of Jonas's breakup, Brooke offered the wine to Bloom. The redhead politely refused. She didn't drink—couldn't afford to anyway. They were currently en route to their second party of the night and though her friends hadn't had much to drink (yet), she knew they'd be too wasted to walk in a straight line by the time tonight was over, meaning the duty of driving them all home would inevitably fall to her. Again.

It was fine, though. Bloom didn't mind the extra responsibility—in fact, she welcomed it. The girls' reliance on her made her feel appreciated, needed, like a safety net. She was the one they could lean on, the one who held things together.

The redhead turned her face to the window, studying the blackness of night as the dark outline of the woods zoomed by. Thanks to Mitzi's lessons, she was now comfortable (enough) and confident (enough) about driving at night, even on windy roads like this. What unsettled her, though, were the specks of cottony white dancing down from the charcoaled heavens. She prayed they'd only receive a dusting of snow tonight; she didn't have that much behind-the-wheel experience when it came to the forces of nature.

"Bloom, you okay?" asked Brooke softly.

Bloom pried her eyes away from the window to grin reassuringly. "Yeah. Just thinking about Andy," she half-lied. Her ex, first and fresh, had been on her mind a lot lately. "Do you think he really think he wants to get back together?" A sincere question. When it came to relationships, she knew she could confide in her friends. After all, the three of them had a combined total of about twenty different boyfriends (not counting the week-long flings), thus having way more dating experience than her.

"Why wouldn't he? You're adorable," drawled Stacey, apparently tipsy. "Only a fool would turn down a redhead. I heard they kiss better."

Mitzi rolled her eyes. "I agree—with that first part, anyway. Andy obviously still has feelings for you, but you can't let him back in. Not just yet. You have to play hard to get, show him that—"

She was interrupted by Brooke's shrill scream as the BMW suddenly, violently lurched forward, bobbed, and then screeched to an abrupt halt.

A spike of panic cut into Bloom. Did they just….?

"Mitzi, what the hell!" shouted Stacey.

"Please tell me we didn't just hit someone," squeaked the ever-dramatic Brooke, dread creeping into her tone and contorting her face.

"Relax; it was just a pothole," spat Mitzi, sounding more pissed than anything. "Fucking raggedy roads…"

"So why did we stop?" demanded Stacey.

Mitzi shot the brunette a withering look. "Because you're going to get out and check for damage."

"No way in hell! Why can't you do it? After all, it's your dad's car."

"So? It's the least you could do considering I'm giving you a free ride," sniped Mitzi.

"I'm not getting out of this car, Mitzi."

This earned her an eye roll from the dark-haired beauty. "Scared? I'm not surprised. I always knew you were a little bitch—"

"C'mon Stace. Just go check the tires right quick. It'll literally take a second," insisted Brooke, annoyed. "You're going to make us late."

"Then you go do it."

"I'll go do it," announced Bloom with an eye roll. As usual, her friends were being drama queens and she didn't feel like sitting here all night. Besides, she knew all about Stacey's fear of the dark.

Stacey literally sagged with relief. "Thanks, Bloom. You're a lifesaver."

Bloom couldn't help but inflate with pride. See? They knew they could depend on her, and valued her for it. "Wait," said Brooke softly as Bloom swung open her door. "Don't forget your coat. It's cold out there."

The redhead gave a small smile. "Right," she said, snatching up her coat from the middle seat.

Shrugging it on, she slipped out into the open air of night. It tasted like snow and ripped through her carroty hair with frozen fingers, welcomed her with an icy-lipped kiss. She shivered instantly. Good thing she'd grabbed her coat after all.

Wanting to get this over with quickly, Bloom inspected the front tires first. She checked for punctures, and then signs of separated treads. All good. Satisfied with her assessment, she went for the back tires. Everything looked fine to her. "We're good," she called to her friends, making to rejoin them inside. However, right as she was reaching for her door, Brooke slid across the backseat and slammed it shut.

What—

Without warning, the BMW shot forward.

Bloom's heart leapt into her throat, but she immediately shut out the rising fear and even laughed. Typical Mitzi. It was just like her to pull something like this. Girl never could resist the lure of a good prank, no matter how vicious.

She expected the girl to slam the brakes any second and stick her head out of the window, cackling like a fiend as she called, "Get in, bitch." But the car kept driving.

Bloom's amusement began to fade. Why wasn't she stopping?

When the car kept onward, pure fear undulated through Bloom in overlapping waves. They were really going to leave her stranded out here! Terrified, the redhead broke into a full-fledged run, yelling frantically and flailing her arms in hope of catching Mitzi's attention in the side-view mirror. This wasn't funny anymore!

Much to her relief, the car slowed down but only for Stacey to hold her head out of the back window, allowing uproarious laughter to escape the vehicle.

"You always said you wanted to get in shape," she shouted at Bloom over fits of hysterical laughter, "well, here's your chance! Enjoy the walk home, bitch!"

She flashed Bloom an obscene gesture and with those words hanging in between them, the BMW accelerated.

It felt like Bloom had been stabbed in the gut. "Wait, stop!" she shouted, sprinting after it. The vehicle mercilessly picked up speed and eventually, the wink of the red taillights disappeared around the bend, out of sight.

Just like that, the girls took off without her, leaving her to choke on their dust.

Bloom tried to pursue them, chased after them until the burning in her thighs became unbearable. It wasn't long before her body forced her to stop, told her it was useless. She'd never catch up to them, and they weren't coming back for her.

She gasped for air, partially winded from the run, mostly from the truth. The corners of her eyes burned as realization dawned like morning sun.

They'd planned this.

Their whole friendship had strictly revolved around this moment.

Bloom wanted to deny it with every fiber in her body, but deep down she knew it was true.

They'd deliberately given her a false sense of comfort and security, intentionally earned her trust, all so they could pull something like this in the end. They'd "befriended" her only to abandon and devastate her in the cruelest, most heart-wrenching way. And the worst part? Bloom hadn't seen it coming. She'd been so blinded by Mitzi's and her cronies' act, so drunk on their faux affection, so fixated on gaining their approval, she'd failed to notice or even suspect their ingenuity, that the thing she treasured was founded on lies. How many times had they patted her on the back just to clandestinely formulate plans to stab it?

A stinging flush rose on Bloom's cheeks, and it wasn't from the cold. Stupidstupidstupidstupid, she raged from within. How ashamed and humiliated she was! She'd been making herself look like a fool, the main act of a private play she'd obliviously been putting on for Mitzi and her clique, her audience, who must've mocked and ridiculed her from velvet-cushioned front-row seats. She'd been nothing but their expendable entertainment this entire time.

Stupidstupidstupidstupid.

She remembered how elated she'd been that day Mitzi first approached her in the hall at school and invited her to sit with her circle at lunch, how easily she "clicked" with them. When they fell into an easy "friendship", Bloom recalled how satisfactory it felt to belong. She (ignorantly) assumed the girls had chosen her because she was special, but in truth it was because she was an easy prey, a lonely, needy girl they'd take under their wing just to ultimately betray. Her emotions had been their playground.

A pit yawned open underneath her feet, and she felt herself plummeting down, down, down into a deep, cold internal void of rage and loneliness despair.

Stupid, pathetic loser. Idiot.

And it wasn't like Bloom hadn't known the girls were….witches. She'd heard various rumors about the heartless things they'd done in the past, and had even witnessed a few in the flesh. There had been a few instances when she'd seen Mitzi and the others backstab their minor friends, betray and pit them against each other. She'd gotten a firsthand view of what they were capable of, yet, she managed to deceive herself anyway. Those other girls deserved what Mitzi did to them, she'd convinced herself. It was just petty payback. They'd never try anything like that with her, right? Wrong. They made a fool out of her—no, she made a fool out of herself.

Now she was a nobody, just another digit on a lengthy scorecard of victims.

Now she was alone.

Alone.

Terror seared into her chest when her eyes opened to her situation. She was stranded in the middle of a back road in a foreign part of upstate Massachusetts on an ice-cold night without any means of getting back home.

Her lungs constricted with fear and every hair on her body prickled. Suddenly on very high alert, she whipped around and scanned her surroundings as her insides knotted with dread. It was hard to see—there weren't any streetlights. However, thanks to the glow of the moon, she was able to make out the densely clustered silhouettes of the icy, barren trees bordering the street, and they petrified her. Cast in shadows, the branches looked like grotesque hands poised to reach out and drag her into the darkness at any given moment.

Not taking her eyes off them, Bloom instinctively reached for her phone—though it would deeply wound her pride to explain this to her parents, they were her only hope—and unadulterated panic nearly choked the air out of her lungs when she realized it wasn't there.

Nonononononononono.

She desperately searched her other pockets and when her phone didn't turn up, another truth punched through her: she left her phone in Mitzi's car.

Bloom almost retched on the spot.

Her thoughts jumbled together and her vision began to blur as she felt her whole being yielding to the panic. Her heart rose into her throat and before she knew it, she was hyperventilating. Her insides became liquid and her legs jelly, threatening to buckle. She couldn't think, could just barely breathe. Fear devoured her whole.

This wasn't happening.

Why was this happening? What did she do to deserve this?

She found herself expelling a low, strangled wail.

This was a nightmare.

She knew what kind of people lurked in the woods at night. Perverts and murderers and all types of sadistic men who'd wouldn't think twice about pouncing on her, a weak helpless girl, and dragging her off to whatever hell awaited. Girls in her predicament usually winded up on the news—only to be proclaimed as missing or dead.

Dead. That word bellowed in Bloom's mind like a train whistle. The deep woods could become her final resting place. She could die here, alone and afraid. And the worst part? No one would know. No one would know what became of the redhead who mysteriously disappeared on that late-January night. And soon they wouldn't care. She'd just be another Lost Girl, and her short, miserable existence would be forgotten.

She could die here. If the cold doesn't claim me first, she was miserably reminded as a frosty wind ripped through her carroty hair with frozen fingers.

She silently bawled.

She cursed herself for accepting Mitzi's invitation that day, for walking into her snare. She cursed her shortcomings, which would ultimately lead to her undoing.

She stood there and wept, quaking furiously.

What a gullible, stupid fool she was.

She felt like shit.

Deserved to feel like shit. This was her fault. This is was the prince of her credulousness.

Never again. I'll never trust anyone ever again, she vowed between tears. This was a lesson she'd never forget. Every time she found herself falling into an old pattern, every time she caught herself setting up for heartbreak, she'd bitterly look back on this experience to remind herself that friendship was a risk, one she would never take again. She'd harden her heart if she had to. She'd never trust girls again. If she ever got the chance too. If she ever made it out of this.

Bloom sniffled, willing herself to stop crying.

She wouldn't.

She wouldn't break down here. She refused to come undone here.

Mitzi would not get the last laugh. Bloom would be damned if she let that bitch get the last laugh.

She wiped away the tears with her sleeve. She took a deep breath. Get it together, she chided herself, you'll be fine.

She could get through. Sure, she didn't have a car but she did have feet. She could walk to shelter, until she came across a gas station or a house. She'd call her parents from there, and all of this would be over. But there was one problem: which way was she supposed to go? North, in the direction the BMW had gone, or south, the direction in which they traveled from? Going south would take her toward Gardenia, her hometown, but that was a long ways away on foot. The long route. Besides, there was nothing in that direction but woods for miles and miles. But then again, the same could be said for the north. The mansion of Mitzi's friend was north of here, but Bloom doubted the bitch had dropped her off anywhere near it (where would be the fun in that?). But that didn't mean there weren't any other houses ahead. In the end, going that way was probably her best option. It was a gamble, but she was willing to take it. Had to take it if she wanted out of this.

Thus, throwing on her hood and shoving her hands deep in her pockets, Bloom Peters forged onward.

Though she'd managed to muster a little courage, the fear, nausea, or the heavy weight pressing against her chest would not ease. She felt vulnerable. She was vulnerable; at her most, in fact. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching her from the cover of the trees, from the abyss of night. The feeling was sickening and she wanted to run, but knew she had to preserve her energy. That didn't stop her from looking over her shoulder every few seconds, though. She half-expected to find a hooded figure stalking her every time, but only saw trees, road, snow, and unmoving shadows. That did not relieve her. She kept her ears trained on the silence, more alert than she'd ever been in her life. And more lonesome.

She walked, small and quiet. Deep down, part of her was still in denial and clung to the foolish hope Mitzi would return for her. That in the end, this would all end up being a joke—harsh, but a joke. But the rest of her knew better. They were not coming back.

She felt like an ant. Everywhere they ever went, Mitzi and her friends had sauntered around with their heads held high, like they owned the world. Bloom had learned to intimate that arrogance, to carry herself like a queen—fearless, free, and powerful. But now, she felt like anything but a queen. She'd been drained of every last drop of that confidence, and now felt an irrelevant, insignificant, worthless bug in this too-big world that was poised to devour her.

Much to her dismay, the snow didn't let up. The powder drifted down from the heavens harder and harder, thicker and thicker, in wet clumps that accumulated on the road and rendered it slick. Soon, if the snowfall kept on like this, it would become too icy and treacherous to walk on. Bloom would be even more screwed than she was right now.

She pressed on, teeth chattering and fingers numbing as the wind whipped snow all around her with arctic howling and cut through her clothes. She felt the cold all the way down to the marrow of her bones, but didn't dare stop. Soon the storm would escalate into a blizzard, and Bloom couldn't afford to get caught in it.

It was an effort to even keep her head up. The ferocity of the biting wind made her want to bow her head but she forced herself to keep it up, using her hand like a visor to shield her eyes. Though her feet were staring to freeze through her boots and her footsteps were small and clipped, she knew each step took her closer and closer to shelter. So long as she didn't break her stride, it would only be a matter of time before she had a steaming cup of hot cocoa and warm water for her feet—

Bloom jumped when she heard a rustle about forty meters behind her. Frightened, and with an accelerating heartbeat, she paused and spun around. She tried to dissect the darkness with her eyes, detecting nothing but winter's emptiness. Relax, Bloom. It was probably just a squirrel, she tried to convince herself.

She forced her legs to start moving again, increasing her pace. Her heart and mind were racing a hundred miles an hour. You're just being paranoid, she told herself over and over as she tried to ignore the eerie feeling spider-walking up her spine. The darkness around her seemed to pulse louder and heavier. It's nothing. Nothing's out there. J—

She heard another rustle, closer than the last one. Bloom snapped her head around so fast she nearly gave herself whiplash. What was that? Her heartbeat roared in her ears. Was something out there? No, Bloom's mind was just playing tricks on her—

The redhead nearly emptied her bladder on herself when another rustle from the woods ripped through the silence, accompanied by the crunching of snow and snapping of twigs. Footsteps.

Her legs reacted before her mind, and she hastily broke into a panicked jog. Why was she running? It was probably just an animal—

As if to prove her wrong, the footsteps grew faster and faster, closer and closer, like whoever they belonged to was pursing her, and rapidly gaining speed.

Definitely not an animal.

Now terrified shitless, Bloom broke into a full-fledged run. Oh god. Shewasbeingfollowedshewasbeingfollowedshewasbeingfollowed. Her worst nightmare was coming true! A sadist had spotted her, and was now hunting her! She was the perfect prey and God forbid she was caught, no one would hear her scream or come rushing to her aid as she met her fate. Ice shot through her veins and mixed with dozen different emotions. She had to lose this guy. Fast.

She pumped her legs harder, the world around her becoming a blur. She heard her purser follow suit, his steps immediately escalating into heavy, thunderous stomps that didn't sound remotely human. On top of that, instead of twigs breaking underfoot, it sounded like whole trees were snapping apart, like he was a giant pushing them out of his way. She wasn't being chased by a man. No, she was being chased by a monster!

Bloom grew extremely ill and faint, but didn't dare falter. Her head was spinning and her breath was like shards of glass in her lungs, but didn't allow herself to slow down for even a millisecond. She couldn't afford to. One slipup, and she was a goner.

Unfortunately for her, whoever was behind her was fast; she heard the heavy tread of his feet drawing nearer and nearer. He was gaining on her! The redhead willed, begged her legs to go faster, but they would not obey. In return, they begged her to go slower, but Bloom refused to comply with their request. She was running for her life.

She heard the monster closing the distance between them faster than she could run but—

Up ahead, a massive figure shot from out of the trees, releasing a roar that rattled the heavens and drowned out Bloom's bloodcurdling scream.

She dug her heels into the ground, forcing herself to stop as she beheld the creature with no small amount of disbelief. In a tatty pair of overalls, the barefoot monster was at least twice her height with thick, impenetrable-looking elephantlike skin the color of weather-worn rock. It glared down on her with eyes that gleamed like emeralds, promising brutality.

Thiscan'tberealthiscan'tberealthiscan'tbereal—

The Hulk-like beast made to start toward her, and Bloom didn't stick around for introductions. Wobbling, she spun around on her heels, and darted in the opposite direction like a frightened jackrabbit.

Tough the redhead had never been religious, desperate prayers escaped her lips as she fled, hightailing it down the road like there was no tomorrow.

Breathing jaggedly, Bloom spared a glance over her shoulder to see if ogre-thing had taken after. It hadn't moved, but its legs were tensing too—

Bloom's bowels went watery as the ogre leapt, its whole bulk springing into the air. Openmouthed, Bloom watched as it soared overhead and—

It touchdowned on the road a few feet in front of her, the sheer impact cracking the asphalt and sending a tremor through the forest, making trees rustles and Bloom loose her balance.

She fell forward, landing on her face and her stomach. She was lifting herself up seconds later to find the ogre looming right over her, a formidable tower of pure muscle that blocked out the moonlight.

Bloom screamed and fell backwards on her ass, trying to inch away to no avail as the foul beast raised a hand. Immediately, she knew she could not—would not escape.

This was the end.

It would be quick; with claws like that, all it would take was one swipe. One swipe to slice her in half.

One swipe to end her.

Bloom closed her eyes for the last time, bracing for the first and final blow. Her whole being quaked—her teeth, her bones, her heart, her soul—and tears streamed down her face like rushing rivers as she drowned in depthless sorrow. She mourned her death, grieved for the life that would be tragically cut short. Grieved for her dearly loved parents, who would never see their daughter again. Grieved for everything she'd leave behind, for everything she'd never experience.

She would never go camping with her dad again.

She would never get to witness her mother achieve her biggest dream of opening flower shops all across the country.

She would never get to achieve her own dreams, never get to become a professional artist and open her own studio in New York City.

That.

It was in that moment when Bloom's sorrow curdled to a scathing anger.

No.

This was not the end.

She refused to die here, to fall victim to this beast because of some bitch's sick version of a prank. She was too young, had too much life left to live. She'd be damned if she let her story end here.

Suddenly, her blood was like hot lava. Something smoldered in her veins, hummed against her skin, begged to be released—

Fury exploded from within her.

She didn't think; no, she simply acted on instinct. She forced whatever power that had been sleeping inside her to surface. Just as the monster was proceeding to slash at her, Bloom screamed and thrust her hands forward, now blind with fear and rage.

A dazzling light—a firework of gold, orange, and red—surged out of her fingertips, colliding with the beast's stomach. The fiend groaned as the impact sent it flying a few dozen feet away.

Bloom's mouth dropped open as it landed with a heavy thump. What was that? How did she—

The redhead didn't have time to register what she'd just done before the monster was up again, growling murderously.

Pissed and ready to spill blood—her blood—the beast charged toward her with a deafening roar. From the ground, Bloom yelped and tried to scramble out of the way, but she was too slo—

Just then, a horn blared, cleaved through the night and Bloom whipped her head around to see a car speeding—racing straight at them with no signs of stopping, the headlights slicing through the lacy curtain of snow and nearly blinding her.

Knowing she lacked the speed and time to get out of its path, Bloom snapped her eyes shut and braced for impact.

She heard a squeal of tires and a sickening, unmistakable thud of a head-on collision but when she felt no pain, she reopened her eyes to behold the car ramming into the monster instead, its stiff muscle-corded bulk hitting the hood and smashing against the windshield. Bloom screamed again and managed to crawl out of the road as glass flew everywhere.

From the snow-blanketed roadside, Bloom watched wide-eyed as the car reversed with a harsh screech of the tires before mercilessly lurching forward again. The troll-thing, who hadn't fully recovered from the first collision, shrieked before metal met its skin once more. The force of the crash knocked the wind straight out of it and threw it ahead. Its heavy mass laid motionless in the road, but just to make sure the job was finished, the driver floored the gas and slammed the front of the dented vehicle into the monster's side one final time.

Immediately, all four doors swung open and Bloom didn't allow herself to examine the people, her rescuers, who jumped out.

Instead, she turned around and ran.

She made a beeline for the tree line, fleeing into the woods as a voice rang out from behind. She didn't dare look back as she penetrated the shadows and was enveloped by them. Her frenzied, roaring panic dulled any previous fear of the woods as she barreled through and ducked under branches, twigs and snow crunching underfoot. She shouldn't have been running—after all, those strangers saved her and could be her ticket back home. But Bloom was dubious of them. Had they seen what she did back there? What did she do back there?

Bile boiled in the redhead's gut at the memory. What kind of paranormal—

The girl had been so caught up in the whirring of her brain, she hadn't heeded the change in terrain and found herself tumbling down a slope. A shout tore out her throat as she slid down-down-down before making a watery landing, splash.

Immediately, it felt like a thousand needles poked Bloom in a thousand different places all at once as she wound up in a snow-swollen creek. She swore colorfully as the water splashed in her eye and soaked through her clothes, chilling her to the bone. She hastily waded through the icy water, scuttling for the crumbling bank ahead.

Using a thick tree root as a handhold, she pulled herself to higher ground before collapsing in a wet, defeated heap on the snow-blanketed ground.

She idled there for a moment, teeth chattering and body shivering madly as she struggled to catch her breath. She wiped her face with her hood, the only part of her coat that wasn't sopping.

The sounds of nightlife resonated all around her and darkness prowled at every angle, but Bloom didn't care about any of it. Now that the worst was behind her, she couldn't feel anything anymore. Refused to, in fact. The loneliness, confusion, and fear had eaten her hollow, making her feel…empty, like a shell. She was completely disconnected from everything but the sound of her drumming heart.

The splitting of branches, however, startled her back into reality and her head snapped up.

Oh god.

Lingering at the top of the incline she'd just fallen down was a hulking mass, its soulless red eyes gleaming like rubies.

Another ogre.

And thus, Bloom found herself in the midst of another hunt.

Her legs moved on their own, steering her around snow-draped trees and utilizing energy from her adrenaline rush. She didn't bother checking to see if the monster was in pursuit—why wouldn't it be? What in hell were those things anyway? Where did they come from and more importantly, why were they after her? Would this nightmare ever end?

Eventually, Bloom pushed through a wall of trees, exploding into a large clearing. She was about halfway across it when her legs finally gave up on her. She'd pushed them to exhaustion, and now she had no energy left. Dizzy, Bloom crumpled to the ground, snow cushioning her hands and knees. Her breath clouded in front of her as she panted dryly, lungs raw from the cold. Get up! she willed herself fruitlessly. She tried mustering and channeling strength into her legs, but her body was in the middle of a burnout.

A beastly groan caught her attention and she lifted her face to find the new ogre lumbering toward her, its exposed feet leaving behind mammoth prints in the snow.

Bloom pleaded her body to rise, to run, but she had no more fight left in her, didn't know how to call upon the energy that'd saved her life earlier. She could feel the tears coming on again. Surely this was where her road ended—

"Get away from her!'

Before Bloom could even register the shouting voice, a brilliant beam of orchid-colored light whizzed overhead like a missile, colliding with the beast square in the chest in an explosion of purple that illuminated the world. The sheer force of the attack hurled the monster across the clearing, and it landed in the trees in a heap of snow and fallen limbs. It didn't get back up.

Bloom's mouth gaped open and she whipped her head around to behold the stranger who'd just saved her life.

She had to squint against the winter haze to see, but she was able to make out a silhouette perched on the edge of the clearing, their hair billowing behind them like a river of liquid midnight. What really drew Bloom's attention, however, was the purple flame that danced on the stranger's right palm, acting as a torch, a beacon against the white. After scanning the area for any more threats, their gaze settled on Bloom. The redhead tensed, unsure of what to do but stare back.

When the newcomer finally started in her direction, Bloom's heart gave a hard flare of panic. What should she do? She didn't think she could run anymore, but she was scared. Her new visitor was somehow wielding fire for crying out loud. That was unnatural, meaning they had to be dangerous, right? Then again, Bloom wasn't too different. In the end, she wisely chose to stay put as the winter gear-clad figure approached. As the odd individual neared, Bloom realized it was a woman by the way her coat clung to her lithe figure. Her alabaster-white skin seemed to absorb the moonlight, giving her an ethereal glow, almost like an angel. She loomed over Bloom, offering a gloved hand. Offering assistance.

Oddly, Bloom didn't think twice about accepting it. She wrapped her own hand around the outstretched one and the second their skin met, something like electric passed between them, leaving Bloom's fingers tingly as the newcomer pulled her up to her feet.

Now at face-level with her, Bloom noticed how beautiful her rescuer's face was; so beautiful she was almost struck dumb by it. The young woman's eyes, those pools of midnight, raked down Bloom's shivering figure, noting her sodden clothes. She made to inquire Bloom of her current condition, but the redhead cut her off. "What's your name?" she blurted.

She didn't know why that was the first question that sprang to her mind, why it mattered, why she even cared. Anyone else in her predicament would've asked what was happening, where those creatures had come from, if the bizarre light-wielder was friend or foe. But no. What is your name?

The young woman regarded her for a moment, using her fiery light to take in the details of Bloom's face. The redhead flinched at the supernatural flame, but appreciated its warm glow, the first taste of heat she'd had in what felt like hours. She studied the fire, how ribbons of it weaved between the raven-haired girl's fingers. It blazed lavender with amethyst and rotten-plum undertones, creating a mini light show that triggered more fascination than fear in Bloom. How did it burn so bright and lively without burning its bearer's skin?

"I'm Raven," the other girl said at last, "are you—"

A roar knifed through the snow, through the wind's wintery serenade, making even the trees shudder. Bloom's chest tightened as a familiar cry sounded to the left, mirrored by another to the right. Before she could feebly ask Raven what was hunting them now, the answer appeared in the form of a cluster of bulky shapes behind the trees.

Raven's demeanor shifted from vigilant to defensive while Bloom's legs threatened to buckle again as monsters—all frighteningly identical to the ones that had pursed Bloom earlier—shuffled out of the tree line, closing in on them from the east and west, north and south. As if they weren't deadly enough, a few of them clenched spiked mallets, their void eyes promising a slow, painful death.

Ice skittered across Bloom's bones and it felt like she was about to be sick. "W-we need to get out of here," she managed weakly, though she knew she didn't have to strength to outrun one—two—six—ten ogres.

"No," said Raven, her mouth cutting a hard line as her eyes swept over the approaching targets, assessing them. Sizing them up. As if she was planning to take them all on…

Bloom was about to accuse her of being crazy, point out that she couldn't possibly hope to fight and win against thousands of pounds of muscle, but the words lodged in her throat when half a movement had Raven withdrawing something from her pocket and tossing it over her shoulder, a glint of metal sailing at Bloom. The redhead instinctively reached out and caught it, grasping a device that a long antenna suggested to be some sort of communication device. Before Bloom could question Raven's motives, some kind of translucent wall appeared between the two, separating them. Bloom dared to touch her frozen fingers to its cool surface as the wall expanded into a dome around her. Though thin as a sheet of paper, it was solid as stone. Harder, even.

A shield, she realized. To protect her.

"Call for help," directed Raven, back still turned to Bloom. "I'll hold them off. Scream if one gets too close."

And she was off.

Bloom watched, awestruck, as Raven shot into the air like a bolt of black lightning. She was at a complete lost for words as the girl descended on one of the ogres, blasting it in the head with a sphere of light she'd conjured in that split second.

The beast was tumbling down by the time Raven touchdowned on her feet, nimble as a cat. The ogres closest in range—two of them—charged at her, heaving their mallets over their heads, ready to pound Raven into a pancake. The stranger simply rose and flicked a finger in their direction. Though Bloom really shouldn't have been surprised at this point, her jaw dropped even wider as the motion summoned some kind of complex marking, a spherical symbol composed of inner circles that revolved in place, like the whole thing had been stamped onto the air itself.

Raven murmured something and the seal shifted from black to blue before a barrage of a dozen iron rods shout out of its center. They all hit home, impaling one of the ogre's torso in a dozen different places. As it dropped lifeless in the snow, its comrade charged. Bloom yelled as its massive frame descended on Raven, its shadow engulfing her.

Raven half-turned and right before she could get crushed, one of those symbols appeared under her feet and sucked her inside like a blackhole. As quickly as she was disappearing into it, she was reappearing out of another behind the troll and fired lances at its backside. Another one down.

That was when Bloom remembered the device she grasped. Right! She was supposed to be calling for help! From the looks of things, the ogres were somehow multiplying in number and she doubted Raven could ward them off forever. Thus, Bloom pried her eyes away from the battle and looked down at the walkie-talkie thingy doubtfully.
Let's see…

She decided on the red button, and poked it aggressively. The gadget came to life with a sputter of static and Bloom twisted the dial until she could make out the faint sounds of voices on the other end. "Hello?" she called into the radio. "Hello?"

Another static-y stutter, with an undertone of another voice. "Hello?"

"Hello?" echoed Bloom, "is anyone there?"

"Hello?" the voice came in clearer, audible enough for Bloom to discern it was masculine. "Raven? What's your status?"

"No, I'm Bloom," Bloom tried to explain as more ogres merged on Raven's position, "Raven's fighting these monsters—there are too many; she needs help!"

There was noise in the background and faraway voices—more people. The guy on the other end must've said something to one of them because his voice got really distant for a second before returning and demanding, "Where are you?"

Assuming they were the ones who'd been in that car alongside Raven, Bloom said, "Not that far away from the road—we're in a clearing. I don't know where the monsters are coming from, but they're everywhere! Please hurry!"

"Copy that. We're on our way. Stella, go—"

And then they lost connection.

Praying reinforcements would arrive soon, Bloom's gaze returned to the conflict outside the barrier and she cried out when she noticed two of the beasts had left Raven to their comrades and was now trudging toward her.

Heart thundering-thundering-thundering against her ribcage, Bloom backed into the opposite wall of the shield, screaming for Raven. Unfortunately, her ally (?) was too busy fending off her assailants to heed—or hear—her pleas for help. So Bloom was helpless as the monsters loomed over the shield, a killing light glinting in their eyes as one of them lifted a fist and slammed it into the roof of the dome, the impact rattling the walls and Bloom's ears alike. The see-through surface splintered and the beast brought its sideways fist down on the same spot, making the crack turn into cracks, spider-webbing further and wider. As it pounded on the shield, its partner stood back and watched Bloom with blood-starved eyes, clutching its weapon, more than eager to squish her like a grape.

The dome was abnormally strong, Bloom would admit. It held up, even as the ogre smashed its fist into it again and again. But it wouldn't last forever, wouldn't stand for much longer as the cracks spread throughout, deeper and deeper. This was it, she knew. One more blow and the barrier would fall. One more blow and Bloom was a goner. She'd evaded death many times tonight, but she had a feeling her luck had officially run out.

Suddenly, the surrounding world receded and it was just Bloom and her attackers. It felt like she was underwater. Her lungs convulsed and everything seemed to slow, save the scene unfolding before her. Senses heightened by her fear, the whole scene seemed clearer, stark, as the monster raised his fist for the last time. Though had come face-to-face with death many times, that didn't make it any less terrifying as the balled fist sliced through the snowfall—

Abruptly, there was an eclipse of light and the whole world glowed white, like flashbulbs popping in her face. Bloom's eyeballs burned and by the time the spots faded, both foes were down, out cold. They both had giant black spots on their chests—burns, freshly charred skin.

"Alright, you foul-breathing heathens. Who's next?" asked a new voice from above.

Bloom had to rub her eyes to make sure she wasn't hallucinating.

There was actually a girl descending from the sky, turning over a specter in her hand as she came to a float in front of the broken barrier. Bloom had the perfect view of her backside, mainly of the pair of leaflet wings jutting out of it.

Could it be?

"You're a fairy," she breathed.

The winged girl peered over her shoulder, her swishing blond pigtails glowing in the moonlight. Clad in a glittery crop top and a pair of short-shorts to match, Bloom wondered how she wasn't freezing to death right now. "Sure am. And from the looks of things, you are too."

Before Bloom could choke out a response, a rune traced itself into the snow beside the fairy and Raven materialized out of it. "Stella," she chided, not sparing Bloom a glance as she reached out and pressed a palm against the barrier, "you know the rules about mundanes…" In response to her touch, a wave of black rippled across the surface of the dome, repairing it entirely.

"Stella" cut her off. "Does it really matter at this point? Besides, she's not a mundane. You saw—uh-oh, here they come." Sure enough, the herd of ogres was stomping toward them, somehow doubled in number. "Get ready," she told Raven, clenching her weapon.

The raven-haired beauty finally turned to face Bloom. "Sorry about this," she said apologetically, "but trust me, you don't want to witness what happens next." Quicker than Bloom could react, Raven shot a bolt of energy at her. It melted through the shield, zapping Bloom and dissolving into her skin. Instantly, her muscles relaxed involuntarily and she grew dizzy, her eyelids becoming unbearably heavy. What the….?

The walkie-talkie slipped out of her grasp as she found herself sinking to her knees, vision blurring.

And then everything faded to black.

~SIF~

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead."

The voice resonated in the back of Bloom's head, interrupting her dream of fairies and ogres with Mitzi-like faces. The girl groaned as consciousness slowly came flooding back, as reality welcomed her back with frosty arms. She peeled an eye open and through her hazy vision, she made out the outline of the person looming over her and the blur of their brown hair.

"Mom?" she muttered. All her thoughts and memories had intertwined, and she wasn't lucid enough to entangle them. What happened? Where was she?

"Uh…do I look like a woman to you?"

He didn't sound like one, that was for sure. Wait. He?

It was then Bloom reawoke into all five senses and became aware of everything all at once, from the warm fabric cushioning her body to the snow-scented air caressing her face. She shot upright, blinking away the cloudy film in her eyes until she saw the world in focus.

The first things she saw were lumps. Massive mounds in the snow, collecting the cottony white that now fell sparsely. They were strewn across the clearing and all lay completely motionless—the ogres. While some had steaming scorch marks on their skyward-facing sides, others looked more maimed and had suffered many cuts and slashes across the arms and legs.

The aftermath of a fight. And from the looks of things, the ideal side ended up victorious.

That was when the truth mercilessly gripped her, when everything came rushing back to her. Her friends' betrayal, that weird power she temporarily wielded, Raven and the fairy, and their battle against those thick-skinned fiends.

"Don't worry; you're safe now," assured the male beside her, as if sensing her distress. Bloom, who was situated upon layers of blankets, looked up to find a teenage brunette standing above her. Her eyes lingered on his black thermal full-body combat suit, on the chunky green-glowing blade braced on his shoulder. He must've been Raven's backup.

"You guys did this?" asked a half-horrified half-awestruck Bloom, eyes automatically roaming the area in search of Raven, whom she owed her life. She caught a flash of black in the distance and homed in on the fire manipulator, who was walking along the perimeter of the clearing, leaving a trail of black peppery powder in her wake. A blond male donning an outfit similar to the brunette's was following suit in the opposite direction, the two of them in the midst of constructing a full circle with the mysterious substance. "What are they doing?"

The brunette was quiet for a moment, as if debating how to answer the question, if he even planned to. "Runing off the area," he replied at last, voice soft but cautious. "So no one will have access to this place until cleanup crew arrives and…takes care of things. Can't exactly leave ogres out in the open without inducing widespread panic."

True. But still…

"Where did they even come from?" wondered Bloom, still seated atop her pallet. It was too discomforting to move in her clothes, which were still damp and clung to her clammy skin. "Are they some kind of government experiment gone wrong?"She would believe if these light-throwing, sword-wielding superhumans turned out to be products of a technological project as well.

"Something like that," responded the brunette dismissively, "I'm Sky by the way."

Before Bloom could return the introduction, a voice called out, "You're finally awake!'She tilted her face to the heavens to find the fairy girl flitting down from them, wings batting soundlessly. She landed on Bloom's other side. "For a second I thought Raven cursed you with an everlasting sleep hex."

Bloom tensed noticeably and Sky rolled his eyes. "You know she wouldn't do that."

"You can never be too sure," insisted Stella, stealing a glance at Raven as she grimly conversed with the blond guy on the edge of the clearing. They'd successfully traced the whole border with that powdery stuff. "She is a witch after all."

Bloom found herself so overwhelmed she couldn't speak. Ogres? Runes? Curses? Fairies? Witches? What kind of make-believe crap had she gotten tangled up in?

"Hey, are you cold?" asked Stella suddenly, voice taking on a gentle quality. "I can help—if you would allow it."

Bloom mechanically nodded yes, unsure of what to say or expect. She was cold, no thanks to these sodden clothes. She stiffened when the fairy crouched down to her level and rested a glowing hand on her shoulder. However, much to her surprise, tendrils of heat started to course through her like electric. It purred under her skin, warming her from the inside out. It was delicious, and Bloom savored every thread. As her clothes started to dry through conduction, Bloom quietly asked, "How are you doing that?"

The blond and brunette exchanged a look, question, understanding, and curiosity passing between them. "I'm the fairy of the sun and moon," explained Stella lowly, "that's where my heat magic comes from. Not only can I use it to roast bad guys alive, I can nourish and warm things too. Pretty cool, right?"

Bloom didn't respond. Couldn't.

Magic.

That word melted into her mind, dinging over and over like a church bell.

"Magic doesn't exist," she said faintly, miserably, though tonight had clearly proved that a lie.

Stella rose, finished with her work. Though she wasn't connected to Bloom anymore, her warmth lingered. She'd completely chased out every inch of cold, leaving comforting heat in its wake. Even Bloom's clothes were toasty and dry, making her feel ten pounds lighter. "Oh, magic's real alright," she said matter-of-factly, "and it's in your blood."

"You're a fairy," Bloom had marveled.

"Sure am. And from the looks of things, so are you,"Stella had replied.

Bloom clenched her fists at her side. Could it be true? Could she have magic? What else could've been the source of that majestic multi-colored light?

Seeing how unnerved Bloom was, Sky shot Stella a warning look. "Enough. You're just freaking her out even more. Besides, you know we're not supposed to—"

"I don't see what the problem is. It's the truth, isn't it? Besides, we're doing her a favor—"

"I don't have magic," spat Bloom, more forced and hostile than she intended. Why was she in such denial?

"You can keep telling yourself that, sweetheart, but it's true. You were born with powers."

"But that's impossible," argued Bloom, "I've never done anything…supernatural until earlier today."

"So? That doesn't mean anything. You're just a late bloomer. Say, what's your name anyway?"

Bloom almost winced as she rose and spat, "Bloom."

Stella's eyes glittered with amusement but before she could say anything, crunching footsteps interrupted her as Raven and the blond guy approached. "They should be here in an hour," the latter announced, pocketing a small device. "We're clear."With blue eyes and a muscular build, he was the kind of guy Mitzi would pant over, but Bloom didn't pay any attention to his good looks or the sword hilt clipped to his side. Just thinking about Mitzi made her soul ache.

"Then let's hit the road. It's been one long-ass day and I'm tired as hell," said Sky.

Stella agreed, yawning for emphasis. "I need my beauty rest, or else I'll start to look like those guys," she said, gesturing towards the fallen ogres. "Besides, I'm long overdue for an herbal soak."There was a flash of light and suddenly, her wings disappeared and her somewhat revealing outfit was replaced by a mink coat. Her knee-high orange boots changed into white ones with tights tucked inside. Looking like a sentient snowflake, Stella turned to Raven and drawled, "So, Raven. What did you and Brandon talk about?"

The earmuffed beauty remained composed. "Family stuff," she said coolly. Crystalline snowflakes were sprinkled on her dark curtain of hair; the white stuff also clung to her thick lashes, making her look like the snow princess in a ballet Bloom had seen not long ago.

Bloom pinned her with a glare."You knocked me out," she said accusingly.

Raven tensed for a moment before regaining her composure. "For good reason," she said, though it sounded like she was trying harder to persuade herself than Bloom. "The fight—you would've regretted witnessing what we did. Besides, you needed the sleep. You looked terrible when I found you." She probably didn't look much better now. "Speaking of which…what were you even doing out here so late? It's dangerous, and you could've easily got trapped in a snow storm—"

"I didn't choose this, okay?" snapped Bloom, surprised by the sharp edge in her voice. She was immediately remorseful. She wasn't usually like this; in fact, she didn't feel like herself at all. She just wanted to go home and put all of this behind her. "Someone left me stranded out here," she said by way of explanation for her behavior.

Raven's face thawed and something like regret flashed across her face as the blond boy—Brandon, Bloom assumed—stepped closer. "Did they…?"

He didn't have to finish that question. "Yes, but not in that sense," she replied with finality. She wasn't about to discuss such a sensitive subject with a group of strangers.

Pity—no, more like understanding—softened Sky's face. "We'll give you a ride home," he offered generously, "I know you don't know us but—"

"Yes, please," cut in Bloom before he could finish. She didn't care that she'd never seen these people in her life, or that she was taking a risk. If they had ulterior motives or something else in mind for her, so be it. After all that had occurred tonight, she really didn't care what happened anymore. All she wanted was to get back to her parents, their safe house, and her inviting bed.

After Raven used "magic" to pack up the blankets and Sky and Brandon did one last check of the clearing, Stella seized Bloom's hand and made to lead her towards the woods with the others. Bloom dug her heels in the snow and looked pointedly over her shoulders at the monster corpses. "You're just going to leave…?

Brandon didn't seem bothered."Don't worry. See those black particles we poured? That's runic powder. Raven enhanced it with a special spell so it'll act as a ward. Any mun—normal civilian who happens to come close to crossing the clearing will be instantly transported through to the other side."

The explanation didn't make the slightest bit of sense, but Bloom just nodded.

With Brandon and Sky leading the way, the five picked their way through the forest until the trees thinned and bits of the road appeared in the breaks between them. The car was still situated in the middle of the road—apparently, no one really drove through these parts at night.

Bloom immediately winced at the sight of the vehicle. The windshield was nonexistent, shattered into a million glass shards strewn across the asphalt. And the front of the car…

It was completely ruined, hood dented and bumper dangling. All a result of that crash into the ogre. Where had that beast done, anyway? It should've been lying in the road like it had been before Bloom fled the scene, but it was gone. Must've gotten up and dragged itself through the forest to assist its comrades. Hopefully, it'd shared the same fate as them.

She winced even harder when she saw the sticker—this was a rental.

Before she had a chance to drown in guilt, Raven said, "Don't worry. I got this." She flicked a finger down at the road and as if on cue, all of the glass fragments—even the tiniest pieces—hovered in the air and floated toward the car in a single stream.

Bloom watched, amazed, as the shards all arranged themselves into place, the pieces of a puzzle coming together, reforming the windshield like it'd never been smashed in in the first place. Once the window was intact, crack-free, Raven swiped her hand and with a metallic scrape, the dents in the hood started to straighten themselves out. The action reminded Bloom of smoothing creases out of a sheet of paper.

Seconds later, the Nissan was in a scratch free, unscathed condition; almost looked brand new. "There we go," said Raven, stuffing her hand back in her pocket. "Good as new."She glanced at Bloom and explained, "Reversing spell."

Sky winked at the redhead. "This isn't the first car we've banged up. Probably won't be the last, either."

Brandon circled around to the driver's side and motioned toward Sky. "Keys," he beckoned.

Sky reached into his pocket after feeling around both of them, his face sheeted white and he went rigid. "Uh-oh. We may have a slight problem..."

All eyes pierced him. "Oh no," groaned Raven. "Please don't tell me."

Bloom felt like collapsing. Was she going to end up walking all the way home after all?

"You lost the keys?" shrieked Stella, glaring across the roof of the car over at Sky as Brandon facepalmed. "Now what are we supposed to do? Walk?"The truth dawned on her, and the blond suddenly looked very miserable. "Do you know how long it'll take to walk to the nearest sign of civilization? It might be morning by then! What if we get lost or pass out from exhaustion—"

"Relax, princess. I have the keys right there, "said Sky with a chuckle, dangling the keychain for all to see before tossing it to Brandon.

Bloom didn't hear the rest as Stella spewed a string of curses at Sky, all of them getting into the lemon-scented car; boys in front, girls in back. Nor did she hear the engine crank, or snippets of the strangers' conversation as they started their road trip. After mumbling her address to Brandon, she receded from reality and lived in the hush of her breath and the rhyme of her heartbeat, which was finally starting to steady.

Seated between Raven and Stella, she absorbed their body heat, the odd sense of security it gave her, letting it relax her, calm her mind.

She refused to let herself think. She'd survived the night, and that was all that mattered.

Things would never be the same after this, Bloom knew. But those were worries for another day.

Instead, she closed her eyes, letting the hum of the car lull her to sleep….

~SIF~

Though the oven clock nearly read three am, Mike and Vanessa Peters were too troubled to entertain the thought of sleep and sat side-by-side at the kitchen table, minds submerged in thought and hands joined.

Though they hadn't uttered a word to each other in over thirty minutes, their souls communicated, were unified by the same worry. It wasn't that they didn't have anything to talk about—on the contrary. Given the condition their daughter had returned home in, they had plenty of concerns that needed to be discussed, but couldn't get the words out. Not with the tension hanging over the room like a curtain, fresh from the scare they'd had a little over an hour ago. So they sat in silence, their presence consoling one another.

Every now and them, one of them would rise to go check on Bloom, who they'd put to bed not long ago.

Poor thing.

Imagine Mike's and Vanessa's horror as parents when their only child showed up unannounced on their doorstep at an ungodly hour with an unfamiliar car lingering in the driveway, looking faded and threadbare, more forty-year-old woman than sixteen-year-old girl. Prior to this, they hadn't been given a reason to worry about their girl's welfare; after all, they were under the impression she was staying over a trusted friend's house.

They pulled her inside immediately and showered her with parental concern. While Mike drew a bath upstairs, Bloom only offered a sliver of an explanation over hot chocolate: her friends dumped her on the side of a road and she had to hitch a ride home. They had a feeling there was more to that story, that there was information Bloom was holding back, but they didn't dare push the subject so soon. They would have that conversation in the morning, and it wasn't one they were looking forward to. How could they help their daughter cope with heartbreak and betrayal without encouraging her to shut them—and the world—out completely? Vanessa was especially worried. It'd scared her to behold those dull, defeated eyes ringed with hollows. She'd never witnessed her girl like that, and it was a sight branded into her mind.

And so the Peters sat, pondering solutions to their situation until the doorbell rang, startling them out of their meditative state. They exchanged uncertain glances. "Who could that possibly be at this hour?" wondered Mike, suspicion tinting his tone. Nonetheless, he pushed away from the table and made toward the foyer.

Vanessa followed suit. "Mike, wait—"

"Stay here," her husband advised, "just in case."

She did not obey and chose to linger by the staircase as her spouse unlocked and opened the front door a crack. "Can I help you?" he asked in his "adult" voice to whoever stood on their stoop.

Vanessa, not caring that she was in her bathrobe, inched forward, craning her neck to get a better view of their visitor.

"Mr. and Mrs. Peters?" said the authoritative voice that belonged to the imposing older gentleman clad in a black cloak, stark against the snowfall in the background.

"Yes….?"

Their guest took off his bowler hat, revealing a head of sculpted salt-and-pepper hair. "My name is Milton Grimm," he said, "and I'm here to discuss the incident your daughter was involved in tonight. Now listen very closely…."