Elias (2 Box Set)

By C. B. Allerdee

Would you sacrifice yourself to bring your brother back to life?

Elias Reinhart's worst fears are realized when his half-brother drowns and their mother blames him. Elias is sent to live with his biological father, but overwhelming grief soon puts Elias in hospital.

While there, Elias meets Phoebe, a resourceful young woman employed by Willa Corp, a Paranormal Research Facility. Creeping around the hospital corridors at night, Elias overhears Phoebe talking to his father. She has returned from the spirit realm, where she encountered an entity powerful enough to bring the dead back to life.

What Elias doesn't know; his decision to save his brother could seal Elias' fate into the spirit realm. Forever. 

If you like dark narratives, suspenseful situations, raw emotions, engaging supernatural universes, powerful paranormal forces, and humorous ghostly beings, then you'll adore these two installments in C.B. Allerdee's page turning series.

Buy the box set and start your adventure today!

• Language: English
• Publisher: C. B. Allerdee
• Release date: Jun 13, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386806042

Book preview

Paranormal Parables

The Box Set

Elias (Book 1)

Fynn (Book 2)

Elias

C. B. Allerdee

––––––––

Copyright 2016 C. B. Allerdee

License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

To Skye, the true inspiration behind this novel. If it weren’t for you,

this project would cease to exist.

Literally.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 1

Moisture douses the metal swing that Elias Reinhart touches. It travels down the length of the chain-links in a jagged pattern, thrown from its perch on the high bar by the constant lurching of two avid swingers below. His companion for this summer’s evening, a child donning navy blue overalls and a white striped shirt, excitedly giggles and gestures about as he recounts his outlandish adventures of the day. The boy’s messy brunette hair tells that his trials are indeed not fiction, but Elias is a bit too preoccupied to notice. He doesn’t even hear his seven-year-old brother speak. Elias rubs an itch from his nose, taking great care to avoid his right cheek. He only realizes his apparent brotherly error when his younger companion stops swinging and stares at him with a belligerent pout. Oh. He sighs despondently, knowing full well what that look meant. Elias allows his sneakers to slam against the gravel, impacting the earth with a soft thud.

Are you going on about those ghosts again? Elias groans; this is the fourth time he’s mentioned the bloody things in the same day! Fynn, I’ll tell you until I’m blue in the face. They don’t exist!

Not a day has gone by without his younger brother nagging him about these ghosts. On most occasions, Fynn tells Elias he is in trouble—all credit going to a make-believe entity. After that claim, he’ll babble a continuous stream of justifications on why he shouldn’t leave Seagulton to see his father. Sounds like babyish excuses tied to a fictitious ghost.

Fynn slumps in his swing. They do, ‘Lias!

The older boy rolls his hand over a clump of curly blond hair; dang. Need to trim these bangs.

Then why haven’t I been informed of our impending doom? His brow cocks in the direction of his disheartened ghost-busting brother. Fynn’s brown eyes lose their childish sparkle, falling into the depths of despair. Great... now he feels guilty. Who knew the ghosts could shove the guilt onto him like this?

Hey. Elias hops off the swing and drapes a bare arm over Fynn’s small shoulder. "Don’t be gloomy. It’s my last week at home with you guys. Let’s make it a fun one... without ghosts."

Fynn narrows his eyes at his brother. Stop calling them that. They’re spirits. How could his brother not listen to him, especially when the spirit in question is only a few yards away from them? The spirit watches on silently, hovering around the large lone rock that rests by the riverbank. Every night this week the figure has visited Fynn and warned him, but Elias has always teased him every time he brought it up. Why would the figure warn Fynn unless it was true though? Why didn’t his brother believe him? Most importantly, why didn’t this figure warn Elias instead? It would save the younger boy grief, and would resolve the endless teasing.

Whatever. Elias rolls his eyes, taking his brother’s dirt-stained hand into his own. Fynn exclaims his disappointment immediately, recognizing the gesture from years of use. He grumbles and whines about having to return home but Elias tunes him out, knowing too well the repercussions if they didn’t hurry. His mom and Kurt would have a fit should their darling boy not return for dinner on time. They keep tabs on the seven-year-old like he’s an exquisite china doll from the ruins. Unlike his parents, Fynn values spending time with him—leading to after school play sessions at the local park by their quaint house. Before a few weeks ago, their sessions used to consist of make-believe through the woods, or knights and dragons. Now, all Fynn talks about are ghosts nonstop.

Fynn interrupts his thoughts by stopping abruptly.

Can I go with you to Will’s?

Elias cocks his head. Why would you want to? Dad’s busy all the time and you hate staying inside. Kirkwall’s too busy for a kid like you. Relief swept over the blond’s face. It was perfect. He could keep his distance from everyone, especially him.

I don’t care! Fynn’s grip tightens on his arm. If you won’t stay home, I’m going with you!

Yeah right, like Kurt would allow Fynn to live under the roof of Mom’s former fling—Elias’ father. He could envision the conversation escalating into unfathomable volumes, resulting in an all-out war in the household. It’s better the kid keep his trap shut. I’ll talk to Mom about it, but you have to keep quiet, okay?

Fynn shows his toothy grin, followed by a side-hug. Good, at least he could appease the seven-year-old beast.

An ear deafening screech brings both boys to a halt. Elias instinctively shields Fynn from the contact of a vehicle honking ferociously. It speeds off, the curly-haired teen behind its wheel giving them both the solid finger and a curt "Brats! Fynn clings onto his body, convulsing in fear. Unwilling to admit it, Elias worries that his brother will believe the near-car collision was a sign from the ghost—heeding a warning. However, Fynn remains silent; the small boy’s frame unstable in the arms of the older boy. Fynn, it’s alright—we’re okay."

Fynn looks up at his brother with a tear-stained face, keeping his words to himself. Elias dabs his tears with the hoodie tied around his waist. He prays that Fynn will keep quiet about this—if Kurt finds out, he’ll be in deep... you know what.

The boys make their way towards the long driveway of the house, where the family patriarch lingers on the terrace. Elias sees his mother out in the garden, fluffing up some newly sprouted pansies. Both seem ignorant of the event—what a relief. As long as Fynn keeps quiet, this may very well be a peaceful dinner.

Of course it never works out the way you want it to.

Fynn blabbed, Kurt yelled, and his mother did nothing but watch the event with a foreign glaze in her pupils. His accusatory brown eyes (the ones Fynn inherited) bore into his soft blue ones. The accusations were fierce and dripping with contempt—chiding Elias with how irresponsible he was, and how he can’t throw his cares out the window just because he’ll be leaving for the summer. As the older brother, he has a responsibility to uphold; keep Fynn safe and out of harm’s way. Which he did, Elias wanted to argue, in the form of a meat shield. He could tell Fynn was aiming to defend his honor, but was promptly quieted by their mother—right; she had one son she catered to be in her husband’s good graces.

The bed greets Elias with comfort as he stares out the window with glazed eyes. If his stepfather hadn’t made it clear that he was an irresponsible child before, he definitely had tonight. He may as well have smacked the boy on the face for his apparent wrongdoings. It wasn’t his fault a car decided to speed right past them when it did. Stupid Kurt; good riddance he was spending the summer with his father. Laying in the dark was the best idea Elias had all day. Perhaps the family would think he was sleeping and leave him alone. Well, except for Fynn. He would likely burst in and jump on his bed or something just as ridiculous.

Two hours pass; he can hear the muted sounds of the family interacting downstairs without him. Elias changes into a loose bed shirt and buries himself under the covers. No sense in waiting for Mom or Fynn to check up on him. He allows the darkness to fill his head with the compulsive urge to sleep.

Rrrrrring. Rrrrrring. Rrrrrrrrring.

His laptop screen flashes on with the face of... Travis. Oh. Elias flips off the covers and clicks mute repeatedly in an attempt to silence the volume. Mixed feelings aside, he accepts the call.

Ah, hey bud. Travis is illuminated by his laptop screen, giving his reddish hair a soft blue undertone. Echoes of his brothers Trevor and Tyler create a distraction, and Elias witnesses the annoyance on Travis’ face grow with each peep. He can’t see the two, but there’s no misplacing the hypertension of a squeal made by Tyler.

Hey... It’s like a barrier has formed against his friend’s face. Elias can’t look at him, or he’ll get a rash from the embarrassment present on his pale skin. He hears the clicking of Travis’ fingers firing off a message—likely an explanation of what happened this afternoon at the hill-front near their school, abundant in indigo flowers and the elegant metal gate.

The fact he can recall his surroundings is indication enough. Shivers recreate the memory as if it just happened. His body tenses up rigidly from nerves.

He waits with bated breath.

A paragraph of text appears on the screen.

As if an alarm went off, Tyler and Trevor appear behind their brother in a frenzy of tickles and roughhousing. Travis demands his brothers leave immediately, he’s trying to have a serious conversation with Elias. Tyler and Trevor match Travis identically—they are triplets after all. Tyler sports a shaggy look while Trevor’s auburn hair is kept short; rivaling the army-cuts his father threatens him with if he makes the man angry. Travis takes the most time with his ‘do, opting to gel it straight in the front while leaving soft curly tresses in the back. There’s no doubt that it’d be messed up in a matter of seconds if left up to the devices of these two.

Elias! Don’t talk to this dink. He’s just going to bore you with some dumb book. Tyler pipes up. Trevor departs at the mention of the word ‘book’, seemingly a bibliophobe. Tyler takes a bit more coercing, as his eyes appear to be reading his brother’s silent message until he sees... all he needs to see. Tyler gives a small grin, pats his brother’s shoulder, and leaves without mentioning another word.

Elias’ stomach falls. Did Tyler just read...

Uh. Travis begins, with an awkward grin. I’m sorry that my brothers exist.

... It’s fine. I have one too. I get it. Elias feels the jitters crawl up his legs. His breathing stifles as he reads the text block Travis sent his way.

Travis studies Elias’ expression intently. The preteen appears to be in the same apprehensive frenzy he is.

The redhead takes a deep breath and proceeds softly. About today, I don’t... uh... I don’t know what came over me. A gentle laugh escapes his lips as a hand rests against his forehead. "I kind of messed up. I know you said to keep it quiet, but I don’t know... I really like you. The boy bites his lower lip, appearing to fight back the residual shame left in his body. I don’t want to hide how I feel, not anymore."

A curt sigh leaves Elias’ lips; a hint of resentment reflected in his voice. "You didn’t see Stacy staring at us? Do you know the influence she has over our classmates? She’s going to ruin us."

Don’t be dramatic. That’s a girl thing. Elias doesn’t buy his excuse.

"Maybe so, except she saw you getting quite... friendly with me. The memory is overwhelming as it washes over him; his gaze wanders over to the lively t-rex poster plastered near his window to escape his friend’s scrutiny. God, Travis. I told you I needed more time."

Elias. Travis’ voice catches in his throat. His eyebrows furrow as he does his best to stay composed. I’m sorry. I acted on an impulse. You told me you were leaving... and I reacted. He sighs, staring off screen. I didn’t think you’d be mad about it. We were getting along so well, and—

You might be comfortable with it, but I’m not. Elias couldn’t take the pressure. What if it reached his mother, or Kurt? What then? His friend’s actions confused him—making him feel guilty by association. His lips purse in frustration as he looks away from the screen once more, tempted to close the lid of his laptop.

"You know, today was terrible. Fynn nagged me about the stupid ghosts again, on top of us almost getting hit by a car—oh, and Kurt? He blames me for it. Surprise surprise. And you... Elias turns his gaze to the defeated redhead on his screen. I told you I wasn’t ready."

It slipped. Travis’ shoulders slump. I-I just thought you were ready to show people that you liked me too.

Well, Elias sighs in resignation, you were wrong. He pulls away from the screen.  I don’t think I can do this.

Elias. Please don’t. His voice quivers with emotion. I’m so sorry. He starts to backpedal. It-it was wrong of me. I should have kept to our agreement. I didn’t mean to be selfish—

I’m sorry. His apology rings with finality. Elias watches his friend deteriorate on the other side, face bearing shock and disbelief. It’s hard to watch. Travis’ head slumps as he stands up; ending with a sudden black screen. The call has dropped.

Elias stares blankly at his laptop. He takes a deep breath, believing he did the right thing. Or, he wants to believe. A frustrated growl leaves his throat as he plunks himself in the middle of his bed covers. His bed greets him with a warm, safe hug. Before laying his head to rest, he closes the lid to his laptop to prevent any more calls. It was bad enough his father had skipped out on tonight’s call. Again. It may have been for the best. He’s not sure he could handle anything else today.

He wants to scream.

With the lights out, his eyes grow weary. It’s a bit earlier than he’s used to, but it is a school night. Was there a way to avoid the terror that was middle school? He sighs, feeling the eye roll under his heavy lids.

There’s no escape.

Chapter 2

Elias ends the day to the echo of clapping erasers. His thoughts lament on how his school still lives in the era of gross blackboards with their screechy-chalky sounds, while the high school kids are treated to pristine whiteboards and projector installations. It’s not fair. He wants to draw on the whiteboard and smell their luxurious markers. He had a whiff once; it was amazingly toxic. If friggin’ Tyler hadn’t thrown sticky tack on his shirt, he wouldn’t be in detention right now. On the bright side, at least the air was crisp and fresh—especially for a summer day. It was great. This may be the best detention he’s had in his entire life! The redhead stands beside him, scrunching his nose at the remaining dust cloud.

"C’mon Eli, face it like a man. He eggs his friend to open his eyes. Just don’t breathe in the dust—it’ll stick to your lungs for days."

Shut up Tyler. It was his fault he had to be here in the first place. This stuff can kill a person.

Right. I didn’t mean to make fun. You look so healthy that I forget these things, you know? Tyler claps his set of erasers together again, unleashing a fresh cloud of chalk into the air. Thankfully he has the decency and common sense to hold them out in the opposite direction from where they’re standing.

Elias gets where he’s coming from, but he doesn’t like the implications. Tyler is right, of course. It wouldn’t be against his constitution to black out. It’s happened before. Changing the subject...

Mom’s going to be here in a few minutes. She’s going to ask me if you’d like a ride home... He’s pleading in his mind that Tyler will say no. After his conversation with Travis last night, he’d like to stay clear of any relations. If Tyler didn’t purposely get Elias in trouble, he’d be on his way home by now.

Tyler’s eraser slips out of his hands. His face droops as a result.

Oh, crap!

Elias tries to be mindful of the word ‘mom’ around the triplets. He couldn’t imagine how he would have felt if his mom left and never returned. Oh... Sorry.

Eh. Tyler pulls a face. I wouldn’t lose sleep over it. He turns back to his task, scrubbing the well-worked grime in-between the bristles.

Elias falls silent, feeling awkward for broaching the topic of the elusive Phillips woman. He’s never met her, for obvious reasons. If Tyler could press that toothpick any harder, his fingers would bleed.

My dad says she’s coming back but I don’t believe it for a second. He pipes up moments later, noticing the newfound empathy on Elias’ face. He laughs, his freckles appearing twice-fold.

Elias frowns at this, moving closer to the youngest of the Phillips family to provide support the way only a best friend can. He bumps into the teacher’s desk as he approaches, however, resulting in a cloudy eraser coming into contact with Tyler’s sleeve as he reaches out to balance himself. His face flashes brief embarrassment and a sheepish apology as the two stare at the stark imprint of his failure for the world to see. Are you sure you don’t care? Elias asks.

Only the dead care about her, bud. Tyler shrugs, ignoring the chalk stain on his shirt. And I believe they don’t. His green eyes dart off to the clouds above, refusing to look at the blond boy beside him. It’s like there is a chill every time I say her name. Maybe she’s a ghost herself. Whadd’ya say Eli? His attention falls back to his friend.

Tyler, enough with the paranormal stuff, ok? Seriously, what is with everyone and ghosts recently? It’s getting way out of control. Fynn is young and impressionable so he’s easy enough to dismiss, but now Tyler too? Sheesh. Common sense is turning into a rare commodity these days.

Ask your brother about the ghosts when you get home. Tyler beams with excitement. They say little kids have an affinity with the occult. Oh wonderful.

The only thing Fynn has an affinity with is getting me in trouble. Elias rolls his eyes in discernment, blips of past memories resurfacing. Ghosts aren’t real.

Have you seen one? The redhead’s lips curve into a smile. Unless you’re too scared to admit they’re real.

"And have you seen a ghost? I doubt it. Tyler doesn’t answer. Elias stands his ground. See? I told you they weren’t real. I’m getting sick to death of hearing about it."

I wouldn’t be so sure, Eli. Tyler’s face represents something more than what he’s letting on. If Elias didn’t know any better, he’d say Tyler actually believes in the subject. How naive...

Tyler’s phone vibrates. He pulls it out and starts to read, his smile vanishing as his eyes trail down the screen. Knowing full well where this conversation is heading, Elias attempts to end it prematurely.

He fails.

Have you heard from my brother at all? Trevor just messaged me—the dude hasn’t said a word to him all day.

Elias hasn’t seen the eldest Phillips brother, and inwardly he’s relieved that’s been the case. Their conversation last night wasn’t one he cared to discuss with Tyler. The question struck him as odd, however. It wouldn’t be unusual for brothers to talk, right? Shouldn’t Tyler know what was going on with Travis already?

I know he told you what’s up. You’re like, his best bud. Tyler grins. It’s kind of nice seeing him socialize with other book nerds. He playfully punches Elias in the arm.

So Tyler doesn’t know. Elias is genuinely surprised by this. He could have sworn that his cheeky friend knew more than what he was letting on, given that he had seen Travis’ text message last night. He must have glanced over the top and bowed out to respect his brother’s privacy. Apparently Travis hasn’t talked to anyone about it. Guilt washes over him as he considers the situation over in his head. That could only mean that Travis has been isolating himself to save face.

I know he’s different, and it’s cool you get that. Tyler continues, smiling softly. He recalls his brother and Elias spending a great deal of time together, always returning from their excursions looking fresh and rejuvenated. He liked what Elias brought out in the normally reserved Travis.

Yeah, you could say that. Yep. Tyler hadn’t a clue what went on beyond his sight. Elias thought that would be a great relief, but after the way he spoke to Travis last night—well, he wasn’t proud of it. It would at least have some repercussions if Tyler knew. And Stacy didn’t say anything after all, or anyone else for that matter. They had either ignored it or never truly cared in the first place. The shame for his outburst grew in his gut. Wow. He messed up big time.

I worry when he gets like this, you know? When he bottles his feelings inside. Tyler puts his eraser down. I want to understand... I want to help him.

Tyler’s kinder than most. Not many would freely admit they’re concerned about their family—especially to a friend. Elias assumed he wasn’t the type of guy to look out for his family. He was wrong, that’s for sure.

Elias ponders on Tyler’s words. He feels terrible. Not only had he hurt Travis (and by the sounds of things—irreparably), but he had hurt the one person he truly felt the most comfortable with. According to Tyler, Travis had felt the same about him.

He doesn’t swear often, but in this moment Elias feels like a shit head.

Just tell him you want to help. He might open up. Knowing full well Tyler may hate his guts after this conversation, it was the least he could do for Travis’ sake.

Hey, Eli?

Yeah?

You might already know this, but I’m sure he’s into you. Please let him down easy, okay?

Bitterness stings Elias’ throat. Okay...

No, wait. It wasn’t okay.

Tyler? About that—

Boys! Stop your nattering and keep clapping those erasers. A strong male voice overrides Elias’. The blond narrows his eyes as the eraser clapping continues for god knows how long. It takes almost an hour to drive here, so that means he has all the time in the world to become a cloud of chalk.

Windbag... The redhead mutters, causing a sly grin to form on Elias’ face. It quickly fades as Tyler whispers his request.

What were you going to tell me?

It’s nothing. Elias fakes a smile. It may have been a relief the old bag interrupted his speech. It’d save Tyler from hating his guts—at least for the afternoon. He’s already lost one friend to his impulsive outburst yesterday; the thought of losing Tyler too doesn’t bode well on his psyche.

It isn’t much longer before the inevitable car brakes screech, pulling Elias from his thoughts. Their heads whip over to the window, noticing the arrival of the red SUV in the otherwise empty visitor parking lot. A familiar brunette waves to Elias before stepping inside to talk to Mr. Pentire. After exchanging pleasantries and expressing a short reprimand towards the children, he gives the boys permission to leave early.

With detention being a recent addition to his list of Tuesday activities, there was no way around it. Was his mom going to yell at him? Perhaps not. It wasn’t her style to yell, unlike her husband. He loved yelling—in fact he relished in it. What did his mother see in the man? In reality, it couldn’t be that much. She had no idea Elias knew of her infidelities with his father. He used to hope that she’d leave Kurt and marry him instead, actually. That’s saying nothing about the fact that his father is a wealthy man.

It’s official. His mother is clueless.

Elias! She calls to him; an unusual smile adorning her face. Uh oh. That’s never a good sign. She sees Tyler loitering by the curb. Would you like a ride too, Tyler?

No thanks, Mrs. Ulfric. I can walk home. Tyler grins, casually waving farewell as he turns to head off. Elias manages to return it with one of his own before popping open the passenger side door and claiming shotgun. The fact that she doesn’t refute Tyler’s dismissal with a typical second-guessing statement of concern worries him. Crap. He didn’t have a good feeling about this.

She pulls out after buckling up, asking him if they would like to stop at a local café and get treats—after all, it would be a fifty minute drive home. He requests something sweet, and his mother comes back with a chocolate milkshake doused in whipped cream and chocolate shreds. It tastes out of this world.

She continues to drive, clearing her throat.

Elias perks up while sipping his drink. This ought to be good.

His mother makes a strange decision to pull the car over and Elias feels a bit unsettled by the action. Her eyes avoid his at first, although they eventually manage to find their way back to his. Kurt and I... we’ve been waiting to share this with you.

"What do you mean, with me?" Elias lowers his milkshake.

Kurt would have shared the news with your brother. She pauses. I wished to share the news with you privately. She smiles, rubbing his cheek with an affectionate hand. He winces at the motherly gesture. Just know that I love you very much. Are those tears in her eyes? He’d come to realize he misinterpreted the message.

With almost a newfound conviction she announces...

I’m pregnant.

Elias’ eyes grow wide. Wait, really? She didn’t look any different. No, never mind that. She’s kidding. That can’t be right. He feels sick to his stomach.

Oh.

His mother lifts up his chin. Are you okay?

Yeah. He says with little emotion. Congratulations.

I know there is going to be an adjustment period honey. I believe if anyone in this family can make it work, it’s you.

... If she says so.

The rest of the car ride felt like eternity. Elias steps out as they park in the driveway, deliberately stalling by taking his time to throw out the mostly empty milkshake cup. After his mother’s grand revelation, Elias lost his appetite. Kurt even offers an empathetic hello as he walks through the front door, but Elias rushes upstairs for the sanctuary of his bedroom and ignores the knowing look his stepfather gives him. He closes the door and unceremoniously tosses himself onto the bed, falling face first into the pillow. He gets exactly one minute of peace before there’s an insistent hammering on the door; Fynn desperate in wanting to share the news about the baby. Go away.

Their house was small enough as it is; did they really need another howling resident occupying space under the same roof? Elias wasn’t sure if they even had the money for a bassinet, let alone a house extension. It’s too bad they couldn’t move into a bigger house, but he knew that would forever remain a pipedream.

Fynn is stubbornly persistent as he continues to knock on the door, calling out his name with a nuanced whine. He won’t let up or leave him alone. What does Fynn need to worry about? Kurt would ensure his golden child remained the center of attention, sharing the spotlight with his new biological baby.

Oh right! Elias remembers the pocket knife his father gave him. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he had forgotten it—looking at the empty suitcase reminded him he needed to pack. He digs for the pocket knife he keeps securely under his pillow, frowning when he can’t find it. Elias throws his attention to the floor, scampering around in a futile search. It wasn’t underneath the bed, or behind the backboard. He doesn’t have time to consider its location as he’s suddenly interrupted by his laptop ringing louder than he’s ever heard it. Interesting; he knows he closed it after the call with Travis. Tripping over himself to hit answer call, he only notices that his brother has finally given up on his conquest as the room falls silent. He groans when he sees who it is, ready to lay his disappointment on his tardy father.

Hey kiddo. The screen speakers call out to him. How’s the weather in good ol’ Seagulton?

Dad, what the hell? Elias crosses his arms in disapproval. "You were supposed to call me yesterday."

Sorry. You know how work goes. He does, and that’s exactly the reason he’s looking forward to ‘spending time’ with his father this summer break; he’ll get the whole condo to himself. It will be his first summer where he can actually spend it alone! What’s got you in a mood?

Elias says nothing. He looks at the tiny screen where his face is illuminated by his white background and catches an interesting glimpse of a lady-like figure in the bathroom behind his dad’s platinum head. Is that...?

Since when do you have a girlfriend? Elias notices his father’s face light up as well as the screen shifting to a different angle.

Elias, since when have you known me to have time for a woman? A mental sigh of relief is had. He could be in the presence of biological family instead of nosy step-parents or a new sibling.

"Just don’t get her pregnant, okay?" He said it just in case his father was bullshitting him.

His father almost drops his mug. Okay Elias, what’s wrong?

Mom’s pregnant. Elias wants to slam the keyboard. He doesn’t.

His father’s eyes widen with surprise. Oh, wow. Tell her congratulations for me.

Not funny Dad. Elias frowns. "I’m not laughing."

I didn’t mean to rile you up. I’m happy for your mother and Kurt. Is he really? What about the long conversations the two would have about her? His parents were absolutely clueless; he knew full well what they were doing. He wants to know what made them call it quits. Yes, it’s been over three years. He doesn’t care.

Uh, Dad? Elias pauses. Can I live with you instead?

I love the idea, but I have to decline that amazing offer. You’d break your mother’s heart if you moved in with me permanently... She’s just gotten used to you spending the entire summer with your old man.

He’s right. Yeah, I know. It was wishful thinking on his part.

His father does his best to change the subject.

Am I going to meet Travis this summer? I remember our conversation last week—he sounds like a great kid! His father’s metallic voice signals throughout the room.

T-Travis? Uh, He’s okay. Too busy to visit this summer. The look in his father’s eyes tells him he doesn’t believe it. Tyler told me they’re going to be busy—going on a family vacation.

"Is that so? How odd. His father takes a sip of coffee before continuing. Is their mother named Elena Phillips?"

... Yes, yes she is. Yeah. Why?

I’m working with her. She talks about her boys often—how Travis is her bookworm, Trevor the exemplary athlete, and Tyler is the hard worker.

Oh god. Elena Phillips has been missing for ages, and yet here she is, apparently working with his dad. Could it be another Elena? No, not likely. Not with triplets. But... why hasn’t she contacted her family? Travis would talk about her often, with a glimmer of rose-tinted nostalgia. The other boys were pissed at her, and in Elias’ opinion justifiably from what he’s heard. Travis remained hopeful though. He still occasionally lamented over her disappearance.

Elias? A firm male voice pulled him from his thoughts.

Dad... Travis hasn’t seen his mother in a couple of years. His father’s eyes widen as he contains himself from coffee spilling all over his desk. How can she be working with you? Why wouldn’t she let her family know? Elias misses the deep concern on his father’s face.

He changes the subject. Again. I’ll do my best to cut down on work this summer. We’ll spend days at the beach, and get ice cream—like old times.

Elias doesn’t question his old man’s change in tone. Instead, he nods.

I miss you. Feeling great nostalgia towards his father, he admits his truth.

I’ll see you soon. We’ll have a good time this summer, I promise. He feels the same way; Elias can feel it.

I should go. I got a lot of packing left to do. Elias politely ends the call. He opens a backpack and throws some pre-folded shirts into it. He wouldn’t need much. His father had a lot of his clothes at his place already, and he’d often ask for updated sizes. Average in height for a twelve-year-old boy, Elias was easy to shop for. He enjoyed the finer tees—polos, graphic prints (with unbelievably gory pictures of dinosaurs getting ripped apart—he was only allowed to wear them in the house at his father’s place), and of course his staple, hoodies. He’d be taking his orange hoodie, the signature fashion of the blond’s closet. Shoes and sandals he wouldn’t bother to take. His laptop, yes. Books? Nah, they’d be too heavy to lug around.

Tomorrow evening, he’d leave for his father’s place. With the final day of school upon him, he’d have his report card (which Kurt would either praise or reprimand him for based on the results) and goodbyes from friends. Most importantly, this meant he and Fynn would go out to get ice cream—later followed by a trip to the lake to go swimming. It was their special tradition, and one of the best parts of having a little brother. Elias knew he would miss him when he went to his father’s, but he wasn’t about to admit it out loud.

Elias threw himself back to the floor, investigating the curves of his bed. Where in this damn room would he have left his pocket knife? Not on his desk, floor, dresser, or any obscure location (the garbage can). This was deeply troubling. He did not like this one bit. Now what would he whittle away with while his dad was at work, or bring out into the woods with him tomorrow? Maybe one of Fynn’s stupid ghosts took it. At this rate, it was a high possibility. Elias collapses on his bed, giving up the search. His head spins, feeling woozy. His body feels heavy; his energy completely zapped. Ignoring the calls to eat, he turns on his side to allow the events of the day to sink in. Elena Phillips. Working with his father. Is that a topic he should dare bring up to Travis? No... he couldn’t. He’d be crushed.

Elias was not in the business to hurt Travis a second time.

Chapter 3

The walls are glowing.

It’s a common effect in the afternoon, thanks to the western-facing window in her office. The sun’s rays filter through half-drawn blinds and unabashedly light up the green paint it touches, creating a pattern of parallel lines that run down the length of the wall. Some of her visitors (like Willis) call the effect distracting, but she finds it rather relaxing. Not her problem if he can’t focus on the task at hand.

Tips of her luscious honey bob catch the light as she bends over to peer into the microscope and examine her latest creation. To the naked eye, it appeared to be a simple contact lens. Under the scrutiny of the microscope’s enhanced magnification, however, it quickly became a technological marvel. It’s taken several attempts of trial-and-error to get to this point. The log of her experimental journal is actually embarrassingly harsh with its extremely detailed retelling of her failures; listing chronologically every instance that this particular project has blown up in her face or fizzled out completely. She doesn’t care though.

Most people would have given up on it by now, but she is nothing if not persistent. It was far too important as a prospective tool in her field to be shelved away forever. With it, they would witness the ushering in of a new age.

It’s only appropriate that she be its pioneer.

Shimmering tides of gold and sapphire lace the lens in all its glory. She smiles, pulling back from the eyepiece of the microscope. Good. They’re ready. She wastes no time in washing and drying her hands—she will not have her magnum opus ruined in its trial run by grimy fingerprints of all things, and carefully rinses the matching lens with solution. Satisfied that she’s not about to irritate her eyeball with microscopic dirt, she glances skyward and pops the fresh piece over her left eye.

A wave of nausea overcomes her with the sudden ability to peer into another new universe. She closes both eyes to allow the disorienting moment to pass. When it does, she gingerly opens her left eye only and leaves her current reality behind.

She’s encircled by stars. Actual stars, as if her office’s been turned into a cosmic Milky Way. It leaves her breathless. She reaches out and gently waves her hand amongst the stars, watching as they ripple like water in response. There are no words that could describe her view. None that could do it justice, anyway. It’s out of this world.

Their world... she can finally see it in all its magnificence. She looks over at the lens occupying the slide of the microscope, seeing it clearly as an entity with a gold-blue finish. Finding the luminescent glow of the lens as curious, she takes a quick gander about her office to see if anything else reacted similarly. She’s almost a bit disappointed to see that everything is completely ordinary (aside from the astronomy class apparently in session around the room), but she figures that would be the case. Only the lenses were connected with this world.

She carefully removes the other lens from the slide, cleaning it with solution before inserting it over her other eye—taking her from this plane and into another. Wow! She knows that she is standing in her office. Her eyes, however, are convinced that she’s in outer space.

There are beings of light all around her. Orange energy in the shape of a deer. A blue butterfly. Purple and red representing a male and female form holding hands. They flit in and out of focus, reappearing as new entities in a multitude of colors. The amount of shapes they could possibly take on was unfathomable.

She did not realize the close proximity of their worlds. They were not supposed to be this close. However, she did know one thing.

No more grotesque, societal outcast goggles.

The twenty-something pseudo researcher jumps into the air, filled with unbridled glee. Success! None of the beings surrounding her take notice. Did this mean they were as oblivious to their realm as the beings in her realm were to theirs? Fascinating. Her mother would take kindly to this factoid. She takes a deep breath, smile widening as she comes to a realization. She had always been a bit of a history nerd (or loveable dork, as her father would say), fascinated by all the accomplishments and shortcomings of humanity throughout time and space. Now, in this moment, she was about to join their ranks.

She had to call Willis.

Grabbing her cell, she dialled the number of the general manager. She watches as the stars make their way through the table, movement unhindered by its presence. In this realm, it doesn’t exist. She looks down to see them casually travel through her as well. Huh. It’s a surreal experience. She had thought herself to be immune, given the ripple effect of her hand earlier, but that isn’t the case. They must have reacted to the force of energy surrounding her hand when she moved it.

How could she describe the amazing things that came before her? The short answer is that she couldn’t. Not one bit. He would have to see for himself. She tapped Call.

Hello? A cracked male voice spoke.

It’s Phoebe. I’ve done it. Her frame trembles again with excitement. "I can see them."

We could before, unless... The lenses! They— He’s cut off by a scream. Phoebe gapes at the sight before her. They had all been ignoring her up to this point—she doesn’t exist in their reality, so it made sense, but now...

The light blue energy took the form of a girl of playful proportions. She danced around the woman in delight, quite able to see her despite the others’ ignorance.

"Phoebe? Phoebe?! the crackled voice continued. Can you hear me?"

Willis! It noticed me! Her mouth closes as the girl props up in front of her face with curious eyes. She looks like a preteen girl, complete with short cropped hair and a pleasant young face. She wears a simple white gown that hangs loosely on her shoulders. They make eye contact; soulful and translucent irises focusing intently on her matching brown pair.

I’m coming! Click. Phoebe pockets the cell. She estimates that it’ll take him about forty-five minutes to reach her house from Kirkwall—more if he gets stuck in traffic. Forty-five minutes. She swallows thickly. No problem. She can do this.

Shaking her head to dislodge the paranoia building there, Phoebe gathers her courage and retains her gaze with the spirit girl before her.

W-Why can you see me? She speaks, cringing as her nerves slip through her voice.

The spirit girl smiles.

Phoebe gains her confidence as the spirit girl refused to speak. It shatters when she suddenly hears the echo of the front door slam shut in the foyer. A house intrusion? Now? The real estate agent had assured her that Sandlewood Bay was a family-friendly community with remarkably low tolerance to crime; a neighborhood whose doors are always open in their apparent peaceful coexistence. The antithesis of Wayside, which her father had recommended she stay clear from. So much for that, she sighs. The spirit continues to watch with her head cocked to the side as Phoebe scans the room for something to defend herself with. Her eyes settle on the fireplace.

The door to her study swings open. She lunges forward before her intruder has the chance to