Heartless (Immortal Enemies 1)

“Only a hallucination, only a hallucination,” she chanted.

“Then why am I seeing it, too?” Pearl Jean screeched. “Can’t rationalize this...”

Up ahead, the vines sprouted up, up, as if reaching for the sky. At the seven-foot mark, the ends grew together, forming a thorny arch still connected to her hands. As thick fog filled the space between the stalks, an incredible force wrenched her forward. She stumbled and tried to dig in her heels, then fought to disconnect from the vines. She failed on both counts.

The vines only pulled faster. Soon she was choking on fear and being dragged across the lawn.

“Help us! Someone help us,” Pearl Jean shouted behind her. “Cookie!”

“Pearl Jean!” No! Her heart thudded as she flew through the fog.

CHAPTER FIVE

DAZED, PANTING, COOKIE jumped to her feet. She surveyed her surroundings. What the—how—what? Can’t process... Her sunlit backyard was gone. In its place was...something else. And it wasn’t her imagination. This was all too real.

She spun, her heart thudding faster, gaze darting. Pink-and-white trees abounded. Rainbow flowers appeared as fluffy as cotton candy, releasing ethereal petals into a warm breeze. More butterfly people flew about, raining glitter. At her right, a babbling brook rushed over glowing crystals. On the other side of the water, shadows slipped over gnarled trees and brittle grass. Jagged leaves snapped together, as if chewing on something. Maybe they were. Bloodred crumbs/drops fell from the corners.

Cookie gulped as she focused on something moving at her feet... Screaming, she hopped around to avoid hundreds of tiny spiders charging out from beneath her house boots.

The butterfly people—fairies?—remained at eye level, zigging and zagging around her.

As soon as she quieted, she picked up the buzz of their wings and the squeak of their voices.

“She’s her, yes?”

“Oh, yes. And no.”

“Her but not her.”

This couldn’t be right. None of this could be right. It was time to go home.

Cookie whirled around, determined. She’d dive through the portal or doorway or whatever it was and—“No!” The vines had disconnected from her and withered, the remains drifting away on a gentle breeze.

Frantic, she patted the stalkless air. “Pearl Jean?” she shouted, going still. Tremors wracked her. “Sugars?” Where were they?

She licked her lips. Maybe she could create another...portal? with those vines? What you did once, you could do again. Right?

A humorless laugh escaped. Re-create something she didn’t understand? Yeah. No big deal. Still, she had to try.

Cookie extended her arms and shook her hands. Nothing happened. She shook with more force, but the heat never reignited in her fingertips.

“Come on, come on.” She wiggled. Flapped. Jumped. Still nothing.

Hysteria bubbled up, making a mockery of the panic. How was she supposed to get home? She needed to get home. Pearl Jean and Sugars—A vicious roar tore through the forest, and she sucked in a breath.

Currents of rage crackled, prickling her skin. The fairies zoomed off as fast as lightning.

Cookie gripped her throat in reflex, calling, “Wait. Come back.”

Alone in a strange place? This was fine. Everything was fine. Her knees knocked, threatening to fold. What should she do? Stay here or venture out for help?

She executed another spin, scanning her surroundings more carefully. The trees weren’t actually pink, she realized. Hundreds of ants with glowing bellies crawled over the trunks. Briar patches grew along the edges of the brook, warning visitors away. Purple mushrooms oozed on a fallen log. In the distance, a deer with mother-of-pearl horns munched on nuts and examined her without concern.

Even as another bloodcurdling roar sounded, making her shudder, the deer continued eating, unfazed. Because he knows I’m slower and more likely to be dinner.

Breathe. Just breathe. Light-headed, she clasped a branch, hoping to steady herself.

“Ouch!” A thousand needles seemed to prick her palm, and she hurriedly released the lifeline. In seconds, large red welts popped up on her hand and forearm. Queasy, she hunched over.

What the—A thick tree root curled around her ankle and yanked.

Cookie crashed to her butt, air bursting from her lungs and stars winking before her eyes. Then. That moment. The nausea won the war. Twisting to the side, she vomited the contents of her stomach.

When she finished, she clambered to her feet, unwilling to stay down any longer than necessary. She had no experience with...stargates? wormholes? But her avatar had plenty. In the video game, she remained ready for anything always. Here, now, the stakes were a thousand times higher. Relax her guard, even for a moment? No.

Another roar erupted, and birds took flight. Branches bounced and slapped her. Though she wobbled, she didn’t fall. Thankfully, the roarer—whatever it was—sounded farther away.

Crickets chirped with relief, and locusts whirred. A frog croaked. Normal sounds in an abnormal situation.

She drew her arms around her middle, shrinking into herself. Before she figured out her next move, she needed to understand her previous one. Somehow, she’d...what? Opened some kind of transport to a different location on Earth? Another dimension? Planet? Alternate reality?