Winona woke up once more, but the room was pitch black. She sat up quietly, trying not to make a sound, but soon enough, the door unlocked and opened. Theo stepped inside and she could hear the lights click on, but the darkness remained.

She began to panic as she remembered the events of the previous night. She sprung to her feet and clutched at her face, looking for glasses that weren’t there. She reached out in front of her face, but it was no use.

“Why can’t I see!?!” Winona cried out, falling to her knees in anguish. Theo rushed to her side and she flinched when he touched her. She cried softly and he shushed her, stroking her hair until she fell limp.

“Unholy blood,” he whispered. “With my unholy blood, I have bestowed upon you the Sight.” Winona choked a little, confused and horrified at the delusions of this sick, obsessive man.

“As with any dark exchange, something must be taken in order for gifts to be given.” She remembered the blade he plunged into his own heart. It figures.

“Besides,” Theo added, “it’s not like you could see very well to begin with.”

“That’s not your call to make!” Winona countered, disgusted. She struggled against him, squirming in his arms as he held on tight.

“Thousands of years ago, Seers lived in temples and served as a conduit for the gods. In sacrificing their vision, they gained the ability to see beyond.” Theo paused before continuing.

"But you see, the art fell out of practice when those who wouldn’t assimilate into the changing world were killed. I believe they... had their eyes plucked out by eagles, and their bodies displayed on pikes.”

“.....” Winona furrowed her brow. “You blinded me over ancient mythology?”

“The world is ready once more for a Seer to be born. I wanted to be the one to make it happen.” Theo smiled and stroked her arm.

“Why didn’t you just do it to yourself, you bastard?” She growled, struggling in his grasp.

“Oh, I would have liked to, absolutely. But carriers of the Sight must be...untainted.”

“...But why did it have to be me?” she cried.

“Why, why, why. It’s always an issue with you. Do you think it was a coincidence that you came back to me?”

“What have you done, Theo!?” Winona choked back tears.

“I will die with you by my side, make no mistake of that. There’s no one else out there left to look for you. You are nothing. But with me, you will never be alone again. You can be useful to me. You can be important to me.”

“Fuck you,” Winona sobbed. “Fuck you to death. You’re a coward.”

He ignored her.

“What do you see?”

“I can’t see anything, you asshole!” spat Winona.

“Can you see how I’ve stayed so young?” Theo pulled her in close, whispering in her ear. She remembered the scream that cut through the night.

“Blood sacrifice is a hell of a drug, you know. I’ve really turned myself around since you last knew me.”

“I never knew you.” Winona was having none of it. “You’re a monster in a cheap costume.” He laughed and his grip began to tighten even further.

“I need you to find the answer to a question I have, my dear. See, slaughtering the innocent is just the bee’s knees, but it’s beginning to lose its touch. I’m afraid I may get to a point where I can’t turn back. I may lose myself entirely. It would be better for us both to stop that from happening.” Winona thought of his bloodshot eyes and his peeling lips, and the insidious way his nails grew into her soft skin. He continued.

“And now, it’s time for you to play your part. I need you to use your Sight to find a way to stop my...decay.”

“I can’t see anything, I already told you, you delusional fuck,” said Winona.

“That’s okay, dear, it’s not unknown for this to happen. It can take time for the ability to manifest. There are ways to expedite the process, however...”

Dozens of smooth, wiry tendrils, candy-striped in black and white, began to protrude from Theo’s spine and wind their way around Winona’s limbs and neck. She had no idea what was touching her or where it came from and she began to panic.

Theo’s nails began to sharpen and dig into her skin, and his hair sprouted like weeds and tickled her face as it grew down to touch her. Winona opened her mouth to scream but a tendril constricted her throat, choking out her voice. Her face began to change from pale into purple, and her bones felt as if they could break at any moment.

Theo let go of her suddenly, letting her fall to the floor, limp and bruising. She gasped for air as he crouched over her, stroking her arm, and she feebly tried to shake him off.

“I accept your apology, dear. I’m not upset with you anymore, because I know you’ll be able to use your gift soon. It just takes time.” He stood up, stepped over her, and left the room.

Winona laid on the cold, hard floor, gasping for air and shaking. She thought of the last time she had escaped Theo’s clutches, and the pit in her stomach sank to new depths, knowing lightning rarely struck the same place twice.

-------

Toffee snored softly as he slept in the bedroom with Alice beside him as the big spoon. It was late afternoon and the evening sun began to creep through the blinds. He laid on the bed without his jackets on, and Alice traced the faint lines of the scars on his back with her fingers. She felt a hot overflow of emotion in her throat as she considered the man before her.

Toffee was bred to be vicious, ruthless, and shameless. He was twice her size and could outrun her easily, and lasers barely slowed him down. He could close his mouth around her neck and bite down, crushing her windpipe and devouring her hopelessly. She had seen him in action— the fight at the bar, the clash with the ghouls in the tunnels. Every time he had acted, though, had been in self-defense or in order to protect—he was incapable of cruelty to anyone besides himself.

Alice blushed and second-guessed herself. What am I doing? It was not like her to confide in others the way she had with him. Anyone who started to get to know her was already getting too close; the more they knew about her, the more danger they could be put in. As she laid beside Toffee, though, it occurred to her that for once, she was probably less of a liability. She laughed quietly to herself and crawled out of bed, still wearing the clothes and makeup she had woken up in the previous morning.

She left the door cracked behind her and slipped out and down the hallway. As she walked into the kitchen, Manfred and an eccentric lesbian friend looked over and smiled.

“Alice, this is Circe,” said the man with the perpetually unbuttoned shirt.

“It’s a pleasure,” smiled Alice as she shook Circe’s hand.

“Likewise.” Circe, a fox, was tall and slender and had pale brown fur. Her buzzed hair was yellow as corn and her eyes a reddish brown. Circe had freckles and a pencil moustache drawn on with makeup. Her eyes were tightly lined in black, and she was dressed head to toe in metallic spandex. She wore a scrunchie on her left wrist.

“That for you?” Alice remarked, gesturing at said scrunchie.

“I don't wear it because I need it. I wear it in case somebody else does.” Circe retorted. Without skipping a beat, she continued. “I’m part of the Lost Boys Troupe. We’re kind of this... performance art co-op sorta deal. There’s a whole bunch of us—dancers, musicians, stuntmen, artists. We travel around and do interactive shows. We’re not actually all boys, either, it’s just the moniker. Right now it's just me here, but the rest will arrive tomorrow.”

“And... what is it that you do?” Alice stammered.

“I’m an acrobat,” answered Circe.

“Radical.”

“And a contortionist.” She winked at Alice, whose face turned pink immediately.

“Anyway! I was just telling Circe about her part of the plan,” chimed Manfred, breaking the awkward silence. “While the rest of the Lost Boys are doing their thing over here,” he pointed to the bottom of the map he created. “She’s going to pull up over here.”

The map was more or less a mass of shapes and arrows, with various figurines and objects standing in for members of the team.

“Wait, okay.” Alice stepped forward to get a closer look. “Theadora and them are the cassette tape, right?”

“Yeah!”

Alice pointed to a stick of gum next to a plastic pirate ship, and a piece of candy.

“So we’ve got Circe parked over here, and that’s definitely Toffee, which would make me...” She was taken aback as the realization hit her. “No. You did not make me the marshmallow!” She laughed and pointed a clawed finger at Manfred. “Do I look like a marshmallow?”

“I think you look like a marshmallow.” Toffee stepped into the kitchen and poked Alice’s arm playfully. She wheeled around, and it looked as if her soul had left her body.

“I...H-hey...”

The door to the garage opened suddenly and Persephone popped her head in.

“Guys, come check this out!”

Alice took the opportunity to exit the situation and went to see what was up. Manfred and Circe followed. Persephone and Janis had painted up the sides of the van, which now read “CHANNEL HELL NEWS” surrounded by sick flames. It was very cool.

“Also, get a load of this.” Janis opened the back of the van. In addition to their instruments, about a dozen brand new camcorders sat in the back, still in their boxes. “Long live The Queen Anne’s Revenge!”

A semi-well-known post-punk outfit from a neighboring city, Jam Stoker doubled as “pirates” (their words) and were most often regarded as “low class thieves”. The masks they wore while pilfering did little to conceal their incredibly conspicuous appearances, so it was fortunate that the authorities were often dull and easily fooled.

The faction members went back inside and made their way into the living room where the others were gathered. Fritz sat with his arm around Torie on the couch. She was sound asleep and leaning her head on his shoulder, and her fluffy hair was all up in his personal space. If he cared, he did not show it, and he dared not move and wake her up. Sitting in silence was far from a challenge for him, though, and he held on tight to the moment because he knew that in a world as cruel as this one, times like this were as good as it could get.

Alice slipped through the hallway and back into the bedroom to compose herself. She was excited to be working with such a fascinating group of people, but she wasn’t used to this degree of social interaction, let alone the amount of sleep she was losing out on. Not to mention the stakes of the plan they were about to undertake, and the hounds of love pursuing her ever faster. There was a soft knock at the door.

“...Come in.”

“Hey,” said Toffee quietly, as he slipped in and began to put his jackets back on before sitting on the bed. “I’m not really one for crowds either.”

Alice turned and sat down next to him. Her heart pounded and she agonized over what to say. She was terrified of opening up only to lose him in the end, but even more so did she fear letting the moment slip away without ever telling him how she felt.

“I...” She began to speak but trailed off as Toffee cradled her tiny face in his giant, clawed hand. She gazed at his piercing, mismatched eyes and the scar that cut across his cheek and brow. His features were intense, but his expression was full of warmth.

They crumbled into each other and as they kissed, the world around them seemed to hurt a little less. They barely knew each other, and what they did know was honestly a bit of a mess. But they had each found something worth defending, and nothing in this life or the next would keep them apart.

The rest of the faction was hanging out in the living room as Lux typed away on his computer. He was crafting a public service announcement for an event happening the following morning. He encouraged everyone to bring their recording devices if they had them, for this was not an event to miss. Sending the message from an anonymous email address, the announcement went out to nearly every personal desktop in the city.

“Dude, killer keytar,” Janis remarked. “Can we hear you play something?”

“You will soon, I promise.” He smiled and hit send.