Athalea

Give

She couldn’t give it to her. She couldn’t. Whatever this girl was, whatever she was capable of, Mia felt the weight of that book—the weight of her father’s memory—pressing down on her. It was the only thing she had left.

"Why?" Mia managed, her voice trembling, though she tried to keep it steady. "What do you want with it? What are you?"

The girl’s smile never faltered. "You’ll understand soon enough." Her words were soft, but they were laced with a hidden, ominous promise. "Just give me the book, Mia. It’s not for you to keep."

Mia’s hand tightened on the strap of her bag, her pulse racing in her ears. The girl took another slow, deliberate step forward, and Mia instinctively took a step back, her eyes scanning the street for any sign of help.

But there was no one. The world felt empty, as if it were holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

The girl in the red dress reached out a hand, and Mia could feel the air around her grow colder, as if her presence was draining the warmth from the world. "Mia," she said softly, almost coaxing, "Don’t make this harder than it needs to be."

Mia’s chest tightened. She had no idea what she was up against, but one thing was clear—she had to get away.

She was standing there, heart racing, mind a blur. The girl in the red dress, her presence so unnervingly perfect, was inching closer, her hands raised in a calm, eerie manner. But Mia wasn’t going to give in. No way.

"Give me the book, Mia," the girl said again, her voice no longer soft or coaxing. It had a bite to it now, sharp and insistent, like a demand. The smile that had once been so sweet was now a thin, cruel curve.

Mia's fingers tightened around the strap of her bag. She could feel the weight of her father’s book inside, still tucked away. It was the only piece of him she had left. It was her only memory, her only connection. She wasn’t going to give that up—not to this strange, terrifying girl in the red dress.

I won’t give up my father’s book.

Mia’s mind raced, but her instincts screamed at her to get away, to run as far and as fast as she could. The girl’s presence was suffocating, like a shadow looming over her, closing in. She glanced around again, but there was no one. The streets were empty.

No one’s coming for me.

With a sudden, violent movement, the girl lunged forward, faster than Mia could react. A flash of silver caught the dim light—the glint of a sharp blade, a knife, in the girl’s hand.

Before Mia could even register what was happening, the knife was in the girl’s grip, pointed directly at her. The blade gleamed with deadly intent.

"Give me the book," the girl repeated, her voice now cold and detached, her grip tightening on the handle of the knife. "Now."

Mia’s heart hammered in her chest as she instinctively pulled the bag closer to her body, her fingers curling tightly around the leather strap. She could feel the heavy weight of the book, the only thing standing between her and whatever this girl wanted from her.

"No!" Mia shouted, her voice raw, defiant. "I won’t give it to you!"

The girl’s smile only deepened, but there was something dark behind her eyes now—a hunger, an insatiable need. Mia could see it in the way she moved, the way she shifted her stance, as though she had all the time in the world.

Suddenly, with a swift motion, the girl slashed the knife through the air. The cold steel sliced through the space between them, just barely grazing Mia’s arm. The pain was sharp and sudden, a stinging burn that made Mia gasp, but it wasn’t enough to stop her. She gritted her teeth, stumbling back a step. Blood welled at the edge of the cut, but she didn’t have time to think about it.

"Give. Me. The book," the girl said, her voice growing more impatient, more threatening.

Mia’s breath came in ragged gasps. Her heart pounded as she desperately tried to think of a way out, but her mind was clouded by fear. The book—her father’s book—was all she had. She couldn’t let this girl take it.

The struggle escalated. Mia fought back, pushing the girl away, trying to protect the bag with all her strength. But the girl was relentless. She twisted and darted, her movements fluid, too fast for Mia to follow.

Mia’s fingers tightened around the strap again, trying to hold on. But the girl was stronger. With a sudden, brutal tug, the girl wrenched the bag from Mia’s shoulder. Mia screamed in protest, reaching out, but the girl was already stepping back, clutching the bag in her hands like a prize.

"No!" Mia cried, her chest tight with panic. "That’s mine!" She tried to lunge forward, but the girl raised the knife, pointing it directly at her with a calm, almost bored expression.

"Stay back," the girl warned, her voice low and commanding.

Mia hesitated, frozen in place, her mind scrambling. The girl wasn’t just after the book—she was after her. There was something about the way she stood, so poised, so utterly in control, that made Mia feel small and helpless.

With one swift movement, the girl opened the bag, her fingers slipping inside. She pulled out the book without a second glance, inspecting it as if it were just another object to her—something to be taken, something to be used. Mia’s heart sank.

"Give it back!" Mia shouted, tears stinging her eyes. "That's all I have left!"

The girl didn’t respond. She didn’t need to. Her smile twisted as she flipped through the pages of the book, her fingers tracing over the words like they were nothing more than lines on a page. To her, this book was just an object, a tool—nothing more.

Mia’s world seemed to collapse around her. She had nothing now. The last thing her father had given her, the last piece of him in this cruel world, was slipping out of her grasp.

Suddenly, the girl stopped. She looked up at Mia, her smile widening, and for a moment, there was something unsettling in her gaze. "You don’t understand," she said, her voice barely a whisper, but there was a cold certainty to her words. "This book isn’t yours anymore. It never was."

Mia’s blood ran cold. "What do you mean?" she gasped, her voice trembling.

But before she could say anything else, the girl was gone. Just like that. One moment, she was standing right there in front of Mia, holding the book, and the next—she was gone. Vanished into the night, leaving Mia standing alone, her heart racing, her thoughts spiraling.

Mia stood there, in the quiet emptiness of the street, her body trembling, her arm still bleeding from the cut. The book was gone. And with it, the last piece of hope she had.

She had lost.

Mia refused to stop. Her breath came in sharp, frantic gasps, but she didn’t care. The mysterious girl in the red dress was so close now—just a few steps ahead, her figure a blur against the dusky light. The sound of her footfalls echoed in Mia's ears, but the red dress was like a flame in the distance, leading her deeper and deeper into the unknown.The forest, once a simple maze of dark trees and shifting shadows, seemed to come alive. The air thickened with the scent of damp earth, and the leaves whispered secrets as Mia pushed through the underbrush, her heart pounding with urgency. She had to catch her. She had to know who she was, where she was leading her.Then, without warning, the girl in the red dress disappeared—vanishing as if the world had swallowed her whole. Mia skidded to a halt, her eyes frantically scanning the forest, but there was nothing. No trace of her, not even the faintest rustle of leaves.But there, at the very edge of the forest, something strange caught her eye. A soft, ethereal glow, a hazy mist that shimmered in the twilight. The trees parted just enough to reveal a breathtaking sight.

A grove filled with towering wisteria trees, their flowers cascading in thick clusters of deep purple, almost glowing in the dimming light. The scent of the flowers was sweet, heavy with a fragrance so delicate it seemed to reach into Mia's very soul. The entire clearing was bathed in a soft, otherworldly light, as if the sun itself had been swallowed by the purple haze, leaving only the light of the flowers to guide her.

At the center of the grove, there was a door. It wasn’t like any door Mia had ever seen—no ordinary wood or metal, but a portal of sorts, framed by the thick, tangled vines of wisteria, their blossoms hanging like delicate curtains. The door shimmered, as if it were not entirely real, but also not a figment of her imagination. It was both here and somewhere else, existing in two places at once.

Mia stepped forward, her breath catching in her throat. She felt an overwhelming pull, as if the door itself was calling her, beckoning her forward. There was no turning back now. The girl in the red dress had led her here, and Mia could feel that whatever lay beyond this portal was something far greater than just a simple chase. It was a doorway to something… beyond her understanding.She took a hesitant step closer, her hand reaching out towards the door. The air around it seemed to hum, a soft vibration that tingled in her fingertips, urging her to move faster, to step through. The wisteria petals drifted in the air like tiny pieces of stardust, swirling around her as if the forest itself was alive, watching, waiting.Mia’s heart pounded with a mix of fear and wonder, but she didn’t hesitate. Not now. She stepped through the threshold, into the unknown. And as she did, the door closed silently behind her, the wisteria blossoms falling in a gentle cascade as if the forest itself had exhaled.

The door is black really really black as nothing to say but the creepiness and feeling of emptiness of that door. Mia looked back and Mia stood at the edge of the wisteria grove, the door before her—a deep, impenetrable black that seemed to pulse with a quiet, magnetic energy. It wasn’t a door like any other. It didn’t belong to this world, or perhaps it belonged to *all* worlds. The air around it vibrated with a low hum, as though it was a living thing, calling her name in whispers she couldn't quite hear but felt deep within her chest. It beckoned her forward, drawing her like a magnet. But Mia hesitated. Her feet felt heavy, her mind clouded by a thousand thoughts crashing together like storm clouds.