Aerudotis

By Fable Haven

You are Reed Hodricke, and you only have a few weeks to live.

You don’t know why you’re doing this. Surely, you could be making better use of your short time here on this planet, being as disposable as you are. But, when a young kid runs up to you and tells you you’re about to die, it’s hard to say no when they ask for your help in finding their dad. Only problems–they’re half monster and you’re an Actor, a being with no soul. And monsters aren’t allowed in human civilization, so you have to think of a plan fast to keep you and your family safe–even when the world around you collapses into one completely unknown to you.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: May 31, 2019
• ISBN: 9780359700608

Book preview

Aerudotis

Aerudotis

Fable Haven

To Toby Fox, not only for inspiring me to create Reed’s story, but for creating a game that has helped me and many others in unimaginable ways, and has encouraged me to help others in any way I can.

The Gallery

Most places you’ve been to throughout your short life have been chaotic, but none as wild as Siorea’s Gallery.

Get outta the way, kid, a woman shoves you aside and enters the gallery before you can protest, disappearing behind the curtain.

You grit your teeth, glaring at the empty doorway. I work here! You shout after her, stomping your foot.

No response.

Of course there’s not.

Sighing, you roll your eyes and continue checking people in, checking ID’s and ignoring insults and lewd comments thrown your way.

’Ey, it’s one of them Actor types—

Kind of a runt, isn’t he? I’m surprised he can even stand that high to see what he’s doin’.

They hire kids here? Really? In a place like this?

Must be making up for the slack. Though, given how late it is…though then again, it’s not like Actors are worth much, are they?

Your cheeks flare up, but you say nothing, continuing to work.

Siorea’s Gallery is one of few big-name attractions in your tiny town, bringing in crowds of people when most places at this time of night are either closed or completely deserted. Though it claims to be an art gallery, half of it is dedicated to a theatre, hidden away in the corner of the tiny building and down three sets of stairs, showcasing performances by both normal actors and Actors alike (you still hate how confusing that is).

You wrinkle your nose absently at the thought, shaking your head clear. At least I haven’t had to perform in a while, you tell yourself.

Yeah—for now. Nothing is certain for your future, though. Besides, your performing is adorable.

Your face reddens further, shut up.

Laughter interrupts your thoughts, and you glance up, blinking hard. A group of obviously-underage-teenagers stumbles forward, smelling heavily of booze and smoke, speaking too loud for comfort and having no understanding of personal space.

Hey, shortstack, one person in the group—a girl who stands a foot taller than you in the ridiculously-high heels she wears—purrs, poking you in the cheek. Mind letting us in? We’re here to party.

You don’t miss a beat, If you have your ID, sure. The show tonight is adults-only.

A round of chuckles. The corner of your eye twitches, but you keep your calm, allowing them to play out whatever game they’re trying to play with you.

Seems we forgot ’em! One of the dudes of the group says, shrugging. He elbows you, your annoyance rising by the second. But hey, you can make an exception, right, buddy? It’d make you seem pretty dope.

Your face reddens. Gods, do you hate your job—but, it’s the only one that would hire someone like you, and it’s not like you’ve got long to live anyway, so you might as well take what you can get.

And have some fun before you kick the bucket, while you’re at it.

Stretching your lips into a thin smile, you aim your ID-reader into the guy’s face, scanning it even as he pulls away. Oh, I’m sorry, you say dramatically, slapping a hand against your cheek. You wave the device around in the air, saying, It says here that we don’t serve dumbasses. Come by again when you’ve grown a braincell, alright, buddy?

A look of surprise crosses their faces. Some people behind them laugh, others clap, others look away out of second-hand embarrassment. The teen’s expression twists, mouth moving and closing as though he wants to speak but can’t, before he scoffs and drags his group out of line and away, the line cheering in response.

You sigh, shaking your head. Stupid people, I swear.

The crowd keeps coming, and you return to checking people in and looking over their ID’s, bombarded with more comments and annoying requests.

Ignore, ignore, ignore. Hide the strings tied to your wrists, focus on your ticket-counter and ID-reader, hide your eyes behind your bangs and point them in the direction they need to go. That’s all you can do; all you can bare from people who don’t care about you or people like you.

Because unlike everyone else, you’re not really a person. Just a puppet for me to control.

Oh, well. At least you have your twin brother.

Your thoughts trail off to him now, picturing him fast asleep in your dump of a house, undisturbed, unburdened. Always trying to keep you safe and to encourage you, brushing it off whenever you try to do the same. He’s so independent—so strong.

You don’t know where you’d be without him in your life.

Hey, kid, another Actor steps out from behind you, and you yelp, almost dropping your ID-reader. When you look up at her, you notice her cover up a smirk. Sorry. Didn’t mean to spook ya.

Whatever, you sigh. You cross your arms, blowing your bangs from your face. Break time?

You get fifteen minutes.

Hell yeah.

You hand over the ID-reader and ticket-counter, stepping around her. She grabs your arm before you can run off, suddenly looking serious.

If you aren’t back here by the time your break is over, I’ll break you, she grounds out through her teeth, baring them for show. Her smile is thin as she continues, Got it?

You frown. Would you make it fun?

She blinks. The comment catches her off guard, I’m sorry?

Would it be fun?

She blinks. …No? It’d hurt a lot—are you okay?

You chuckle. You and I have different definitions of fun. But yeah, I’m fine—now let go of my arm. I need food.

She does so without protest.

You head into the crowded gallery, pulling off your hat and shaking your hair out, allowing messy dark locks to curl around your ears.

If most nights in the gallery are busy, tonight would be a poor attempt at a riot. The main floor is packed; quieter than outside, but still full of chatter, people checking out the works on display with awed expressions. You check out some of the art as you pass, but you don’t linger, brushing off the works of art with a wave of your hand. You’ve seen it all before; no point in wasting your break over it.

Besides, that’s not where the real excitement is. Most of the crowd, of course, shuffles toward the stairs, heading for the theatre. For a show that, though admittedly fun, isn’t worth nearly as much as they pay for it.

You grin at the thought, suckers.

You slip your way into the crowd of babbling adults, maneuvering through it in order to reach the bottom of the staircase, three stories down. You break away and into a separate hallway, slipping into a door labeled R. HODRICKE.

You kick your door closed behind you. Throwing your hat down on your desk and groaning, you stumble forward, stretching and falling into your chair. "Holy fuck, I hate busy hours."

Beep, beep!

You blink when your phone goes off, and you pick it up, flipping it open.

VERDELLA

YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE

42min ago

YOU TOLD ME YOU WERE OFF TODAY

41min ago

ONLY FOR YOU TO SNEAK OFF WHEN IM SLEEPING???

41min ago

YOU KNOW I GET SCARED WHEN I WAKE UP ON MY OWN

41min ago

YOU’RE DEAD WHEN YOU GET HOME

40min ago

Your heart stops in your chest, eyes widening slightly at the words.

Oops. Seems in your hurry to leave home, you’d forgotten to let him know you were leaving. The panic he must have gone through…all over a simple mistake…

You glare at the air and chew on your lip, sitting up in your chair. You begin typing, ignoring the way your fingers tremble and sweat covers your palms.

YOU

Sorry, bro. I got called in. Didn’t want to bother you; it’s rare when you sleep.

now

I’ll make it up to you, okay?

now

VERDELLA

You better or else you’re sleeping on the floor

now

sneaky brothers get the cold dungeon for a bed

now

You chuckle and shake your head. What a dork.

Indeed.

YOU

I promise

now

I love you, bro

delivered

You switch off your phone and set it down, running a hand down your face. Shit, I didn’t mean to scare him…nice going, Reed. Way to be a shitty twin brother.

Still, there’s work to be done. Worry about it another time.

Shaking your head, you reach underneath your desk, stomach growling. I’ll figure something out later, I guess—

Slam!

You jump at the sound of your door slamming open, dropping your bag of food onto the floor, spinning around in your chair with your hands balled up into fists, ready to fight.

You pause at what you see.

A child stands in the doorway, panting, their hair a mess, skin caked with dirt and clothes soaked with sweat. Their single eye is full of tears, the other consumed by a fleshy, pink mass bulging from their face and leaking a purplish-blue guck onto the floor.

You gape at the sight of it, stumbling out of your chair and backing up into the other wall, What the fuck—

They meet your gaze, freezing at the sight of you and lowering their arm to their side. They stumble forward, voice airy, distant and exhausted.

You’re going to die tomorrow.

Before you can say anything, the child faints, forcing you to catch them before they faceplant into