Fire. So much fire.

Where am I? Hell?

It certainly looks like hell. Feel like it too. The flames are licking my bare skin, but it is soothing somehow. Like a puppy licking my face.

It swirls around me, then opens up into a pair of wings flapping in a dull rhythm. I look majestic. Like a phoenix rising from the flame.

My subjects stand before me. They chant my name and address me as their empress. Their queen. The only one destined to lead them.

And one by one they bow.

I feel honoured. I feel power. I feel a smile form on my lips.

I must speak. To thank them for their kind and loyal support. But when I open my mouth I don’t talk—I click and I clack and I chitter.

The crowd goes wild. They are jumping on each other and craning their neck to see me. I stumble backwards, eyes wide and my heart pounding in my throat. Turning around to face a mirror behind me, I let out a shrill scream.

My features are melting like candle-wax. I can’t even recognise myself anymore.

I…

…

“…”

“Skye.”

“SKYE!”

I snapped back to it to find my boyfriend, Alfie, staring at me. His face was pale, like he had just seen a ghost. He held up a blood-splattered tissue.

“Your nose is bleeding. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I just had another…”

I trailed off, staring at the sky. I never knew what to call them. Nightmare? Hallucination? Seizure? I had them since I was a child and still I couldn’t put a name to the episodes.

Alfie wrapped an arm around me and pulled me close. He smelled like the old teddy bear I had when I was a child and it put my mind at ease. I snuggled up beside him.

“We can go home if you want,” he offered. “You really look like you saw a ghost.”

That was the best thing about Alfie. We’d grown up together–next-door neighbours–and we had so much in common we were practically in sync. We both grew up without a mother—his parents divorced when he was little and mine, well— I don’t know what happened to my mother. My father forbade me from talking about her.

He always slapped me in the face when I tried.

But Alfie, he was my cliff. And I was the waves crashing against it. We were inseparable in this rough and tough neighborhood where being raised by a single parent was a sin. We might not have siblings, but we had each other. Honestly, that’s all that really mattered.

“I’ll walk you home.”

“I’m fine, Alfie. Really.”

Alfie shook his head. “Skye, you look sick. I insist.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. Good old Alfie. Stubborn as a lovely mule. “Fine, you big doofus.”

We walked home in silence. I didn’t want to talk about what I saw this time and Alfie knew better than to push it. Neither my dad nor my stepmom was home as usual so Alfie escorted me into bed and tucked me into it. Like I was 5 years old again.

“Thanks.”

He cracked a slight smile. “Don’t mention it.”

He sat on a chair nearby and withdrew into the shadows. It was comforting having him there watching me sleep, like a father taking watch for his family during a cold, winter night. Alfie came over and held my hand. It felt as warm as fire.

“I’ll be here whenever you need me.”

“Always.”

---

“You okay, Skye?”

I cracked my eyes open, hissing from the strong stream of bright sunlight. Alfie was gone, replaced by my stepmother, Emily. She sat next to me on my bed, her palm over my forehead.

“Alfie told me you’re sick. Do you need anything?”

“Not really.” My voice sounded like it had aged fifty years.

“I got some water. And Alfie, he got something for you. Said he hoped it would make you happy.”

I blinked back tears, nearly choking on my water. I felt better already.

“Chocolate,” Emily continued. She sniffed it. “Fresh. Handcrafted. What is this? Valentines’ Day?”

“Or did you two steal my credit card to buy expensive chocolate?”

“Stop!” I grinned, taking one. It melted like butter in my mouth and cascaded down my throat.

“Mm! Thanks!”

“Don’t thank me,” Emily said. “Thank him. He’s been calling all morning. Asking how you’re doing.”

“Told him you were asleep but he won’t take no for an answer. Wanted to see you himself. To check up on you.”

I got up and stretched. Suddenly, I didn’t feel so tired anymore. “I ought to go now.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, it’s okay.”

---

Alfie wasn’t home. The doorbell echoed thinly in the morning air. Something flickered in the upstairs window, and I caught sight of a pair of eyes. Alfie maybe?

Click

The door swung open. Alfie’s father stared grimly down at me, clawing his graying hair.

“Alfie’s upstairs,” he muttered before I could speak.

“He said he is preparing to see you.”

Preparing?

“Thanks Mr Owens.”

I wasn’t sure what I was expecting. The house was thrown into complete disarray. Their possessions were scattered in every corner and covered by a film of dust. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought Alfie and his dad left in a rush and never came back.

The stairs creaked with every step.

“Alfie?”

No answer. The stairs sank under my weight and I nearly fell. I could hear flies buzzing in the distance.

“Alfie? It’s Skye!”

Creak

“Alfie?”

I trooped up the last step, hardly daring to breathe.

Thud. Thud. Creak.

The early morning light bathed Alfie’s room in gold, yet he was cloaked in shadow. Alfie sat hunched at the side of his bed, facing the window. He was only wearing a pair of shorts and he was scratching his left arm.

“Alfie…”

“Are you okay Skye?”

His words cut through the confusion and knocked me cold.

“Kind of? Why are you so itchy? Mosquitoes?”

“Come and see.”

I slid on the bed next to him and looked at his arm. A scarab with bulging eyes was carved deep into his flesh. The wound was old and the blood dry, but it was carved in exquisite detail like he paid a professional tattoo artist to do it for him.

I stared at it for a moment, and I swore something clicked in my brain. Like this scarab was a part of me, somehow. But I gritted my teeth and shook it off.

“Alfie?” I frowned. “Are you okay?”

He stared at me, his eyes bulging as big as the bug on his arm.

“Don’t you get it? It’s a sign, Skye! We are meant to be together!”

“Uh…”

Goosebumps crept up my skin and my spine tingled. Alfie was still grinning at me. But it felt unnatural, somewhat, like he was forcing it on his face.

“Do you like it, Skye? I did it for you!”

I was struggling to breathe. “Maybe?”

The morning heat shimmered between us like a protective shield. Alfie was still smiling at me.

“I’ve got to go…”

“Wait!” he cried. “Don’t you want to hear about how you…”

He shrieked his explanation to the empty room as I scrambled down the stairs and out of his house. Even on the way home I could still hear him.

---

“Something wrong?”

“Maybe.” I picked at my food. It was fish and chips—one of my favourite foods. Emily frequently picked them up when she was out of town and on normal days they tasted like heaven.

But not today. Today it tasted like sandpaper. All day I was thinking of Alfie and my stomach was twisted to knots.

“It’s about Alfie, isn’t it?”

Emily read me like a book as usual. It was often annoying but right now I never felt more grateful.

“Maybe…”

“Look, Skye, he’ll get over it soon. He’s just thinking about how to sort out his feelings for you.”

“Maybe…”

“Don’t worry about it. It will pass sooner or later. In fact tomorrow he might propose to you with a huge diamond ring…”

“Emily!”

“What? I’m saying that is possible!”

Creak.

“What was that?”

Emily exchanged nervous glances with my dad, who had been quiet all evening. “I don’t know.”

I stood up. “I’ll go look.”

“SKYEEEEE!”

My hair stood on end at the edge of my skin. “Alfie?”

“SKYEEEE! I LOVE YOU!”

“Alfie…” I croaked. I wanted to run but something was pinning me there.

“I LOVE YOU SKYE!”

I dared peek out the window. There was Alfie. Motionless. Waiting.

The moon shone deep on him, slowly peeling off strips of colour on his face. He stood, eyes as wide as copper coins. Yelling my name over and over. Yet it didn’t sound like a boy; it sounded like a grizzly, tired old man fighting to get a frog out of his throat.

“Alfie? What is going on?”

Silence. He was still screaming my name. Loud as the crickets.

“He’ll get over it,” Emily repeated uncomfortably, staring at the screaming boy. “Come on Skye. I’m sure it will be fine tomorrow.”

But it wasn’t fine. At first he stood a few meters away, and then with each passing day he got nearer and nearer. Once I peered down to see him so close to the wall his nose was touching it. Then he looked up, his lips puckered to the bricks like an octopus, his eyes stretching to the back of his head until you could see a morbid web of veins, and then, he grinned.

I kept on asking him about it, asking him if he was feeling okay and if he needed anything. And every time I brought up the subject, I had more questions than answers.

For he wouldn’t answer me properly. He avoided my eyes and dodged each question like James Bond. Directing answers back at me, asking how I felt or if I was sick. On and on.

But never a word about him. He smiled and told me not to worry. He would be fine.

That sentence echoed doubt over and over in my head.

I noticed he wore more long-sleeved shirts to cover up the tattoo—he said he did it because he knew it bothered me a lot—and then he immediately changed the subject.

“Hey Skye,” he said one day after another unsuccessful attempt of getting him to talk to me about it. “Have you ever paid attention to a mouse clicking?”

I frowned. “Pardon?”

“A computer mouse,” Alfie clarified. “I bought a new one yesterday and have been playing around with it a lot. And now I can copy one! Check it out!”

He made a series of clicks with his tongue and laughed. “What do you think?”

It was hauntingly familiar. For some reason cold dread washed again down my spine. Alfie clicked again, and I swore his lips were bulging and twisting out into something that looked like a short noodle.

“It’s lovely, Alfie,” I said instead. “But it’s making my head spin.”

Alfie laughed again. Ruffled my hair. A cold breeze was sweeping through the hill and soon my hair flopped onto my face.

“Nonsense Skye!” Alfie said. “I’m doing it for you! Listen!”

He got up and clicked his way home and soon my heart was as cold as the wind.

---

The next night he was in my room. Really.

I woke up from another nightmare in the middle of the night, something about fire cooking me alive and bugs scuttling down my skin. And then I saw a dark silhouette at the foot of my bed.

Thunder roared and the sky lit up with a brief bolt of lightning. Light beamed down, and then I could see his face.

It was Alfie. He was standing there with his arms out and his head bent to the side like a limp rag doll. His jaws were fully protruding from his face now, and he wouldn’t stop making those stupid clicks.

Flies buzzed around his head like they were proud of serving their king. Alfie leaned forward and reached out to touch me. He grinned, revealing yellowed teeth.

Click. Click. CLICK

Thunder screamed and it went dark once more. When the flash of light came back Alfie was suddenly on my bed. He clicked as he inched slowly forwards.

I was paralysed. He was hissing, swaying to the crack and boom and snap of thunder. He slithered, closer and closer and closer…

My scream was stuck in my throat.

He was so close now I could reach out and touch him and–oh god, the smell. Like he had dipped a rotting corpse in vinegar then rolled on the floor with it.

I ducked under my covers and pulled it tight above me. His shadow loomed over mine. Hands danced along the blanket, looking for an edge to pull.

Thunder cracked the sky like a whip. I mustered my courage and screamed, “GO AWAY ALFIE!”

More thunder. So loud this time I thought my eardrums shattered.

Then silence.

I dared to peek.

The moon shone bright through my window. Everything had disappeared—no thunder, no lightning, no storm.

And no Alfie.

At first I thought I was only dreaming. I pinched myself and counted how many fingers I had just to make sure.

Then I smelled it. Deep and lingering.

Like a rotten corpse dipped in vinegar.

---

I woke up to a ton of shouting.

I dragged myself to the window and peered down, rubbing my eyes. People were gathered outside my house, nudging and whispering and pointing at something on the wall.

The police were here too, but their faces were as white as a sheet, and their arms were stuck by their sides. One of them was holding a megaphone, but his lips were quivering. The megaphone tumbled onto the ground and let out its own screech of terror.

Finally I dared look at what the commotion was about.

It was Alfie.

CLICK CLICK CLICK

He looked up at me and I saw that his face was swelling; his eyes were swelling. In fact Alfie’s eyes were bulging more than it ever could, and it glistened like a mirror, so clearly I could see my reflection in it. He scuttled up the wall towards me, and as I watched, a pair of hairy feelers erupted from his forehead and waved.

CLICK CLICK

I couldn’t breathe. I watched as each arm and leg grabbed the bricks and hauled his body upwards. I was gripping the windows so tight my knuckles were as white as his face.

Alfie stopped mere inches from me, the hair on his new feelers tickling my face.

CLICK

He smelled even worse than last night, if it was even possible. I swore I could practically see the cloud of toxic gas on his breath. I leaned as far away as I could from him and tried not to gag.

One of the bricks tumbled away from him and landed somewhere down beneath. The house we had bought was very old and it was clear it couldn’t support his weight. Alfie’s grip slipped but still hung on tight with his other hand. He was swinging gently from side to side, like a moving pendulum, and I found I couldn’t look away.

CLICK CLICK

Another brick fell. I found myself wishing more would fall faster.

CLICK CLICK

“Alfie,” I choked. “Please…”

It was like his hands were made of butter. Alfie desperately hung onto the ledge with just two fingers. The rest were shrinking quickly and folding into his palm. His other hand was no more; it had withered and thinned and charred to a long black appendage.

CLICK CLICK

“Alfie, what is going on?” I hoped there was something in that monster before me, a piece of the Alfie I knew. Yet Alfie looked at me, unblinking.

Unknowing.

CLICK

That was when he lost the last of his grip.

It was like watching a movie in slow motion. He fell humbly, gracefully, his eyes never leaving my face. In fact, I swore I saw him smile.

Another electric jolt shivered its way up my spine.

SPLAT

Alfie lay on his back, his feelers and limbs wiggling madly, then he went still. Blood leaked out from a hole on his head, a deep cobalt blue.

The crowd was screaming. They were scrambling and stumbling against each other, pushing back like an enormous tidal wave. The cops had regained their nerves; they were calling for order and for everyone to get back to their houses.

As for me, I couldn’t think. I stared down at Alfie’s corpse for what seemed like hours. The crowd finally dispersed, then the police, then the paramedics came and took the body away in an ambulance painted with black and gold.

Then I sat down on my bed and watched the sky. The birds chirping outside, the way the clouds swam lazily across the azure ocean—everything was dead. Broken.

All I could see in my mind’s eye was Alfie: his serene smile, his fall from grace, the way his head shattered on the ground. Over and over, an eternal movie repeating in my mind.

Day turned into night. I didn’t know how much time had passed. Neither did I want to eat, drink, use the bathroom or sleep. I was too busy wandering the deep forest of my thoughts, and every tree was engraved with Alfie’s face.

“Skye?”

I turned to face Emily and my dad. When did they come home?

“I…”

Emily placed a warm hand on my shoulder. “We know. The Willows told us.”

Her eyes welled in tears.

“Skye…” she said quietly. “I am really sorry.”

I turned away. I didn’t feel like talking.

“Skye, listen.” Emily cupped my hands into her own. “What happened to Alfie isn’t entirely your fault.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I don’t want you to blame yourself, Skye.”

I raised an eyebrow. Or what was left of it.

“How do you know?”

“Because…” Emily hesitated. She nodded to my dad and he made himself scarce.

She reached in her pocket and pulled out a medallion.

My heart stood still.

Carved into the medallion was a very familiar scarab with bulging eyes. Again something clicked into my brain, like a key turning into a lock.

Then it hit me.

I saw it on Alfie’s arm!

“Because…”

A small smile stretched across her face. Like she was waiting forever to tell me the good news.

“I know your real mom.”

SK

---

Part 2