Down the hall I could hear the happy chatter of my stepmother and stepsister, along with my father. I closed my eyes and thought about Pandora’s text message. 

‘Another is dead, one of us is injured.’ 

‘Who?’ I thought staring at my celling. The choir sing, making my ears ring. It was dull but annoying. Dug my palms into my eyes rubbing them; trying to distract myself from the noise. I sighed and looked over to my door. 

I was tempted to just leave, but my family wouldn’t let me go out alone. I took a deep breath and a rush of cold flooded over me. Before I could intake the situation I was lying on my back in the middle of the park, near my old high school. 

I sat up and shivered. I was only wearing joggers and a hoddie. I looked around the park, it was empty, I sighed and decided to follow the trail around the place. I knew at the far end there would be a café I could sit in, for a while gathering my thoughts. 

As I walked snow crunched under my feet and my breath curled into the air. It was all things considered a nice night. 

I rounded a corner on the path and saw up a head a person. They wore a thick long coat and boots. Their hair was Pure black, and their eyes were grey. They looked like they were crying ink; and running through their left eye was the worst scar I’d even seen. 

It was thin and jagged pulling at their skin and going down the length of their body.

They stopped just Infront of me; and the choir exploded. I winced and covered my ears. They smiled in morbid delight. The area flooded with spirts. They clawed at my face and throat. Their nails sharp as needles. 

I could feel them ripping my soul away from my body as the person Infront of me laughed.  

I saw one standing behind the figure. A man, fading in and out. I tried to focus on them, but it was far to difficult. 

The figure screamed out in pain. The most awful scream. It was two screams overlapping each other has the man’s hand shot through their chest, they hit them and took of running. 

The man was clearer now. Warm skin, deep red hair, a small scar on his lip. 

Koa.

I pushed through the Spector’s trying to reach him as tears flooded my eyes. The closer I got the more whole he became. 

I saw a hand try to reach for him, but he was gone. The hand grabbed my jumper and pulled me beyond the veil.

Quiet.

It was quiet. For the first time in my life, I couldn’t hear the choir. Around my feet fog swirled and my surrounds looked dead and rotting. It was dark and cold.

Infront of me, was a hooded figure holding a scythe. Death?

“who are you?” It asked, voice breathy and hollow; but also, sweet and calming; like a hand beckoning you towards it. I was frozen I fear. The figure grabbed a piece of paper from its cloak and looked at it. “Strange… the name is gone. Now I ask you again who you are.” 

They flicked their hand and it felt like I was about to throw up.

“Virgil,” I answered, before covering my mouth. “Virgil Di Angelo.” 

The figure chuckled and pulled down their hood. 

It wasn’t death, or not what I expected death to look like. They were quite feminine and looked east Asian. Their eyes were bright red and quite lovely; hair long and dark tied out of her face with two thin strands framing her face. 

Her skin was cool and pale as if they’d avoided the sun for their entire life. They were tall and graceful, but deadly almost like a viper. 

“Are you a patron or the lord?”

I was confused by the question. Was she asking if I was Christian?” 

“Lord?”

“Thanatos, god of death.” 

I blushed. Of course, she meant Thanatos. We were beyond the veil. “Yes I am.”

“Good, you can go home then, fare well, Warlock.”

Umbra pulled her cloak back over their head, and smiled tossing me a mask. It looked like the top half of a cartoon skull with slits for eyes. I put it on. 

“Good luck, and I might I recommend a calming breath?” They said before disappearing into the fog. 

I stared at the nothing as I tried to understand my predicament… I was lost. I took a deep breath and thought about my family. 

I let the fog curl around me, and I tried to leave the veil.

I shot up, the choir singing once again, their song of pain flooding my brain. I looked around me. I was in a cemetery. I took off the mask Umbra had given me. 

The cemetery was cold and empty. The sun was setting and the lights of the cemetery were just starting to turn on. 

I looked at the grave Infront of me and almost screamed. 

‘Cecilia Di Angelo. Amata madre, Sorella e figlia. 2070-2095’

My mother’s grave… I was in back home.

I was in Rome.