Emma Peterson

I opened my eyes to see the eerie face of Daisy Mae looming over me.

I let out a screech and scurried backwards into the darkness. I couldn’t see anything around me except for Daisy, who was sitting right where I had left her about 10 feet away. I could feel the roughness of a damp, stony street beneath my fingers, yet when I looked down, I saw only black. Daisy seemed to be emitting an unearthly blue glow, making her the only source of light.

The surrounding air was cool and damp, much like a cave. The area around Daisy was the only patch of ground I could see due to the lack of light. From what I could see, she was sitting in a puddle in the middle of a cobblestone street. She was still staring at me, although her blank eyes showed no intention of hurting me. My heart rate having slowed, I stood up and cautiously approached her. The only sounds were my heavy breathing and my socks sloshing in the many puddles. Finally, I stood directly in front of her. She looked up at me and smiled.

“Come,” she said, and I realized I had never heard her speak before.

Her voice was sweet and childish but had an edge that sent shivers down my spine. I obeyed her command as she rose and turned to head down the street.

As we walked, her glow began to brighten, allowing me to see farther and farther into the darkness. As far as I could see, the street was lined with small shops selling a variety of things I had never heard of. Things like “pounets” and “dords” seemed to be hot commodities down here. Or up here. Wherever here was. So far, the only inhabitant of this place seemed to be Daisy – all the shop windows were dark, and no one was on the street, giving the place a ghost-like chill.

Daisy finally stopped in front of a large, bank-like building with large marble columns and tall, ornate front doors. The only thing that seemed out of place was the color of the marble. The building was made of midnight black marble, with streaks of gold flowing through it. As we began our trek up the front steps, I realized that there were hundreds upon hundreds of names carved into each step.

When we reached the doors, they opened without a touch.

Daisy led the way into a grand hall decorated with gold and gems. At the end of the lengthy hall, I could see another glowing person, much like Daisy. He stepped down from his high desk and approached us. He looked about 8 or 9, had short messy hair, and the same ghostly eyes as Daisy Mae. His blue aurora was somewhat stronger than Daisy’s, and I had to squint slightly to look at him properly. Suddenly, his unnaturally deep but childish voice broke the uncanny silence.

“Finally. Welcome to the Dimension of the Dead, Charlie.”

…To Be Continued…

Emma Peterson