Selene's POV

~11 years ago

11:57

My anticipation reaches a fever pitch as I rapidly bounce on a springy couch cushion, staring down our cable box. Our little family of two has never needed any other timepiece since you can see the glowing blue digits from just about anywhere in the main living area, but right about now I’d kill to have little hands I could stare at as they continue their final march to midnight.

11:58

Two minutes until I turn eighteen. Nope, not interested in tobacco, I think it smells like rancid ass fumes. I’ve been pirating R-rated movies as long as I’ve had an internet connection despite the hilarious “you wouldn’t steal a car” ad. Voting is cool, but the furthest thing from my mind as I focus solely on the main reason I give a shit about becoming an “official” adult. The beautiful promise I’ve held onto since childhood when I first saw those gorgeous crimson lines connecting people.

11:59

Will counting to 60 make this minute take more or less time? Will getting the lines hurt? Will there be a nifty sound effect? Will I get a +3 score to charisma rolls twice per long rest? I torment myself with endless blathering and thoughts, waiting for the proper moment to arrive.

12:00

…

Well, isn't this some anticlimactic bullshit!? Where's the fanfare? Where's the pizzazz?

…

WHERE THE FUCK ARE MY LINES?!

Are you kidding me? I mean, I know I'm not perfect, but… no lines? Not even one?

“THE FUCK!?” I yell, managing to vocalize succinctly my entire mental and emotional state at the moment.

Mom barrels out of her room so fast, I could have sworn she charged up her own version of a certain hedgehog’s spin dash. “What? What’s wrong? What happened!?” She asks, out of breath from her twenty-foot sprint. 

I just look at her with the most pathetic doe eyes I can muster, as if my Mom somehow has the power to change fate itself. “I… I didn’t get any…” That's all I manage to say before choking up. All my life, I thought… I assumed I’d get to have some… but I have none… zero… nada…

“Selene–”

“Wait! Do the lines operate on a different timezone? Is it just that I have to wait for another couple hours?”

“Se–"

“Wait a second, maybe it's eighteen years old to the minute, what minute was I born? Please tell me it wasn’t super late and that I’m gonna be waiting all day for–”

“Babooze!” Mom finally yells over my frantic prattling, grabbing me by the shoulders and spinning me around. There, in front of me, right where it's supposed to be… is a single grey line. Its color is dull, like charcoal that’s completely spent, and it feeds straight through the wall and who knows how far… but it's there.

“I… I have one…” I smile up at Mom who is still having a bit of a chuckle at me freaking out over nothing. “I actually have one!” I hop up and down, excited beyond belief. Somewhere, on the other side of this line… is someone that’s going to mean the world to me. Someone I can share my life with, who will feel as strongly for me as I feel about them. My hand tries to rest on the translucent beam of light, but passes through without any interference. “She’s out there somewhere…” I muse out loud, prompting another laugh at my excitement.

Mom ruffles my hair a bit. “And she’s one lucky lady to be connected to my daughter!”

Smacking her hand away, because I’m literally not a child anymore, I nod. “Damn right she is! I need to say that now because somehow I know that when I meet her, all I’m going to think is about how lucky I am…”

“Ugh, I raised a sappy romantic… where did I go wrong?” Mom groans, rolling her eyes. “Just, don’t make me proofread any sonnets or poetry you write for her. There’s not enough antacid in the world to help me stomach that.”

“Jerk!”

“Dumbass!”

The two of us laugh and continue throwing lighthearted insults at one another as I try to imagine who could be waiting for me… where she is… and the life she’s living at this moment.

***

Present Day

“You seriously lived here?” I ask, trying and failing not to sound incredibly judgmental. Eric, AKA line cutting fuckwad, AKA Mr. Hubris, has taken me to the… Well, there’s no delicate way of saying this… the compound he used to call home. Seriously, I’m reconsidering how badly I want information here because I think I’ve seen a location like this in every horror movie that’s come out in the past fifty years. Starting with a worryingly long trek through the woods to a massive fence with barbed wire and signs in way too many languages threatening trespassers… i.e. me. Now I’m face to face with a multi-leveled, nearly windowless building with one set of steel doors leading in and out.

“When I was a kid, yeah. Got a problem with it?” Yes, many… too many… I’ve never seen a building made entirely of red flags before, the fact that it's structurally sound is impressive. “Now, are you going to stand here and criticize my childhood, or are you going to come inside and look for the logs?” Why not both? I still have plenty of problems with everything going on here!

Swallowing whatever courage and willingness to make terrible life decisions I have in me, I start walking toward the doors. “So… does your whole family live here? Are they all a part of this… organization?” I ask, not necessarily curious, but just trying to fill the uncomfortable silence.

“Yeah, what’s left of them. Most of the acolytes of Eleonora aren’t related to me by blood though.”

“I see… Eleonora… you mentioned her before, and I swear that name sounds familiar.” Eric gives me a strange look. “What?”

“Nothing, it’s just that most people aren’t at all familiar with the Goddess of love from an all-but-dead religion. She’s not exactly mainstream knowledge.” He types a code into the panel near the steel doors and a loud click announces their unlocking. Eric pushes open the doors and gestures for me to follow.

“Why do I feel like I really don’t belong here?”

“Because you really don’t, and I’ll get in an insane amount of trouble if anybody catches you in here.” He answers coldly, navigating the uniform hallways with precision as I barely keep step. “So hurry up. We only have half an hour before service ends. You take longer than that, and you’re on your own.” On the top floor of the building, we come to an unmarked door, that looks just like all the rest.

“So… you could get in serious trouble for this… don’t seem to be too fond of me as a person… and yet you’re helping me?” I ask, confused by my strange accomplice’s motivations.

He nods sternly. “Like I said, I help you look at the logs, you have to answer a few questions of mine. Exchange of information.” He fishes out a key from his pocket and opens the door. “Here.”

“Holy fanaticism…” I can’t help but say as we enter. The furniture is incredibly bare bones, with a simple wooden desk, a twin bed, and a large safe standing flush against a wall. All perfectly normal, until you get to the sight that prompts my outburst. Spanning every visible inch of the wall is a massive mural that wraps all the way around the room of a sky at daybreak. A woman with burning red hair and shimmering armor tears through the clouds with a fierce expression that'd give me nightmares if I had to spend a single night in here. “That’s… not at all creepy.”

“That is the Goddess Eleonora… please don’t blaspheme while you’re here.”

My gaze is locked onto the massive painting of the woman, her golden eyes seemingly boring through to my soul. Eyes that I swear I’ve seen before somewh– “Holy fucking shit… I’ve met her before.”

“Who?” Eric asks, looking incredulously at the keypad on the safe.

“This lady! Eleonora!”

Eric’s attention turns to me as he stares me down with thinly veiled exasperation. “Yeah, I’m going to go ahead and call bullshit on that.” I nod vigorously and he rolls his eyes. “The Goddess… you’ve met her? Where, book club?”

“No…”

***

~10 Years Ago

It’s late at night, the cold autumn air blowing in from my window wakes me up and forces me to roll out of bed. Shuffling over with the intent to shut out any further breezes, my body freezes as I feel a much deeper chill. My chest tightens up right where the line originates. A wave of nausea slams into me and I wretch as I crumple to my knees. Struggling to catch my breath while dry heaving, I feel the twist of a knife in my heart. Something… something is terribly wrong. “MOM!” I call, too frightened to think of any other recourse.

Rubbing her eyes and yawning, Mom walks half-consciously into my room until she sees me on the floor. “What’s wrong?” She asks, rushing to my side, fully awake.

“I… I don’t know…” I say, holding back tears I don’t understand. “It–it hurts…” That’s when the first thread of the strand snaps with a sickening sound, like a tuned-to-tight guitar string whipping the air around it. “No…” I plead, weakly, watching the connection flicker as another few threads come loose.

Mom’s expression hardens and she stands up, her face not marked with concern but with fury. She steps out of my room and I follow, slowly, never quite able to stand up all the way. “Elly!!!” She screams at the top of her lungs, looking up at the ceiling. “Get your pompous ass over here right now!”

Three heavy knocks on our door seem to shake the entire apartment as Mom storms over to answer. She nearly rips the door off its hinges swinging it open to reveal an incredibly tall… impossibly beautiful woman on the other side. “I really wish you’d stop calling me Elly, Lianna. It’s unbecoming.”

I’ve never seen Mom angry before. Irritated, sure. Disappointed, absolutely, I’m her daughter after all, and didn’t always give her an easy time. But anger is new. Her face doesn’t look natural twisted in pure visceral hatred, almost as if she’s a completely different person. “Fuck your formalities, Eleonora. What is happening to my daughter?”

The large woman looks at me with indifference and snorts. “I see no daughter here. Just some urchin you’ve taken in and made your pet.” Somehow, my Mom grabs the much larger woman and pins her to the wall of the entranceway. “My… you’ve developed a temper problem since we last met… it’s cute.”

Mom is nearly rabid at this point, breathing through gritted teeth as she stares down the imposing figure. “What. Is. Happening!?” She repeats, her tone colder than I feel as more threads spring loose. “Why is her line grey? What do the grey lines mean? They never existed while we–”

Shrugging off my Mom like she’s nothing, the large woman pushes her away. “The grey lines are offensive. They fly in the face of destiny… and therefore must be cleansed.”

“Cleansed?” I repeat, my line flickering as it holds on by a thread.

The imposing woman approaches as Mom yells for her not to lay a finger on me. She kneels next to me and pats my head. “Don’t worry. You may not be one of the chosen… but there is beauty in loneliness… a focus… an ability to achieve ambitions grander than you thought possible. Embrace that… because it’s all you’ll have to fall back on.”

My line snaps… the loose threads shriveling and crumbling into nothingness right before my eyes and my hope along with them. “But… she’s… she’s out there.” My body aches, and my heart has slowed to a crawl as I struggle to breathe. “She’s…” My vision blurs and I feel tears running down my face in rivers as my words are replaced by a pained soundtrack of gasps and wails.

“Yeah… she’s out there… but with no lines to draw you to one another, good luck finding her.” Eleonora laughs vindictively as she walks out of our door, looking back for a single moment at Mom. “Goodbye, Lianna…”

“Fuck off…” Mom replies weakly, staring at me with unimaginable pity, and something akin to… guilt?

***

Present Day

“You met Eleonora while your line was being cut?” Eric asks as I finish recounting my memory. “That… can’t be right. Eleonora is gracious and kind. She isn’t the malicious woman you’re describing her as.”

“Have you met the bitch?” I bite back. For a second, it looks like Eric is going to object to what I just called his Goddess, but shuts his mouth instead. “Now, how do you suppose we get into the safe?”

The man I’ve followed this far shrugs. “Good question.”

Are… are you fucking kidding me?

“You brought me all this way, and you don’t know how to get into the safe?” I ask, flabbergasted by this guy’s logic. “What was the plan from here!?”

He approaches the keypad on the safe and sighs. “Well… to put it technically… guessing.”

With fifteen minutes left until the love cult returns, and a complete dipshit by my side, I realize once and for all… I really shouldn’t have come here.