Young Writers Society

Either they were slow or distracted by something else. Which Jaron could understand - the last place he wanted to be was the room he had wriggled his way through the hole to get to.

He got to his feet and looked around, biting his claws. It was some kind of storage room, he guessed. Small, fragile lights gave a weak yellow tint to the rows and rows of boxes set up along shelves. Rolls of some black substance had been spilled onto the floor, to say nothing of the strangely suspended pieces of metal, jugs of water, and pieces of rotting food.

The fox covered his nose - the smell was awful. And he had a suspicion that it had a lot to do with the light that poured in through a metal door on the opposite end of the long room.

A giant hole had been punched through it.

Adeline jumped slightly as Kartiel teleported beside her, but quickly got over her skittishness as she saw it was him. She was scared, and very very worried, but she didn't want anyone to know that. She had to be brave.

Compromising with herself, she subtly grabbed Kartiel's hand and steeled her expression as best she could.

"Alright." she took a deep breath. "which way is the radio station?"

"Well, it's-" Kartiel started to say, only to pause when he realized they were suddenly short one person. He glanced around the group for the missing member - where had Jaron gone? He wasn't standing behind anyone, and it didn't look like he was up ahead. "Has anyone seen Jaron?"

Maahes shook his head. Orrin and Lucifer both glanced at each other before slowly looking back in the direction of the building they had just left, gaze traveling over to a somewhat small hole. "I think I saw him in there last," Orrin commented. Lucifer nodded in agreement. Maahes looked concerned by this, but Kartiel just felt plain frustrated. Weren't they supposed to be looking his friend and boyfriend?

He sighed. This time, he didn't even bother grabbing onto everyone with his hands - he let his magic touch them. The darkness wrapping around their various limbs (some got arms, others got legs) was enough of a contact between them. He thought hard, imagining appearing beside Jaron and not on his location, and suddenly they were there with him in a downpour of purple particles.

Kartiel immediately froze up when he saw the room they were in. Where were they-

"We're in a recording studio," Orrin said, eyes widening as he hurried over to some of the old tech. "I haven't been in one like this in years."

Lucifer gave a small smile. "There's actual rolls of film," he said, surprisingly happy over something minor like that.

"This sure brings back memories," Maahes quietly added. He guessed it was supposed to be spoken underneath his breath, but Kartiel was standing right next to him and had always had impeccable hearing.

"You guys are old," Kartiel said, gaze traveling around the room. His heart dropped down to his feet when he saw the giant hole that had been punched through a metal door. What exactly were they dealing with?

Jaron jumped up and screamed when purple spots rained down on him. It took a few seconds of clinging onto one of the shelves and gasping for breath before he realized that the others had teleported over to him. Why didn't he remember that one of them had that power?

He immediately let go and walked across the room, pretending that nothing had happened. His paw ran along the boxes. Dust floated into the air, revealing the logo burned into the side of the boxes. Or, an abbreviation and a name.




The layers of dust thinned out the closer he moved towards the door. Maybe the stuff was arranged by the date it was made? He swore he could see text in little white labels below the logo, but couldn't make sense of the text.

"What's film?" Jaron whispered, picking up on the conversation going on behind him. "Isn't that just something that covers something else?"

James had not been prepared for the sudden teleportation. He barely caught himself as they were brought into another room filled with foreign objects he didn't understand. A shiver ran from his head to his toes, and he leaned on the neared support beam. If he hadn't felt useless for not knowing half of the language the others were using, he felt even more useless for his sickly state. He tried to suppress nausea squirming in his gut, and though he knew other important things were being discussed, that was all he could focus on.

"It's something you can use to record people moving around," Kartiel explaining, scanning the room for the perfect place to sit down on. Rather than choose one of the seats, he opted for a dust-ridden table. "You can also use it to capture a single moment. Think of it like a painting, but quicker and more accurate when it comes to documenting something's appearance."

Nearby, Maahes hurried to James's side, clearly concerned by him leaning up against the support beam. Kartiel's gaze wandered to Lucifer and Orrin. They were joining Jaron by the boxes, studying what was written on them. Orrin grew noticeably paler when he read the description of one of them.

"S-A-H-R," he said. He turned back to the others. "I saw that written in the same place as the first ghost - I think it's the name of a cult."

"Oh," Jaron whispered. He picked up some of this 'film,' holding it between his claws. The fox glared at it. "I can't see anything."

That made him feel a little stupid, so he set the film down onto the shelf and pulled out the box next to it, very slowly and gently lowering it to the ground. "Maybe there's something that'll make the film work," he said, brushing the dust from the box. Using his claws as leverage, he pried open the container to reveal what he almost thought was film at first.

Yet, when he pulled it out, he found it was a lot more like cloth. A set of robes, actually. Jaron pulled one out, then another, and then another. Throwing them onto the floor, he found what looked like a painting. It was certainly more realistic and colorful than any painting he had seen before. Was this supposed to be what that film actually looked like?

He held up to the dim light overhead. Four men stood in the middle of the forest that he'd wandered in from. Three stood closer together, arms wrapped around each other as they beamed at the camera. All were wearing black robes, as was the fourth man standing behind them and to their right, on top of a tree stump. The last man, also wearing a purple shawl, had a nice face - mostly bald with a small ring of gray hair, rosy cheeks, smile lines, a roundish head, and an impressive grin.

"Huh," Jaron whispered, flipping the painting over to find words.

Dec. 1, 1971 - a stroll through the woods with our beloved leader, The Honorable Walker Templeton.

Templeton says He'll be coming here soon.

Orrin, who had still been lingering beside Jaron, froze when he saw what was written on the back. This immediately caught the eye of the other people in the room - Leo turned to face them, Lucifer peeked over his shoulder, and Kartiel teleported to Jaron's side in a sudden burst of little purple particles. "I recognize that name," Orrin realized, eyes widening. "That was the name that the ghost kept mentioning - he was complaining about Templeton. I didn't realize Templeton was the one in charge!"

Ever since they had teleported into the radio station, Adeline had been very quiet, curled in on herself in the corner. She listened to the rest of the group's conversation with wide eyes, but she didn't understand most of what they were saying, only about ghosts and things like that.

She looked over at Orrin from across the room. "You spoke to a ghost?" She whispered softly, though it was in awe and not terror.

Jaron pulled the painting a little closer to himself, uncomfortable with the new company. "Oh," Jaron whispered, setting the painting back in the box and pulling out a few others. "I guess that makes sense, if the ghost was talking about him all the time. Nobody likes leaders."

He shuffled through the paintings. The four men standing out a cave; the four men rappelling into the darkness; construction crews; giant signs with the logo; more people standing by the stump; the four men dumping film into strange boxes in rooms full of equipment and technology. The numbers on the back started to flash by - January, March, April, June, 1971, 1972, 1973. Crowds cheering in the forest, Templeton standing on a podium, the cave full of lights and growing buildings, the lake and its rocky island dotted with boats, banners over the newly-made houses, the beginnings of the giant door that had blocked their path. None of the men aged all that music, except maybe for Templeton. His hair grew grayer, his wrinkles grew bigger, and his smile grew wider. The construction of the radio station, bonfires, people handing out radios, people sitting by radios, anniversary after anniversary after anniversary of the town's founding (not that Jaron could read it).

The fox reached the end. It was the outside of the radio station, like he'd seen it before. The four men stood in front of it, waving at the camera. Three stood in candlelight, dressed up in the robes that they'd worn at the start, but now with gold trim, red scarfs, and diamond rings. Templeton stood away from them again, purple shawl partly covered by his scarf. In the shadows that the building cast in the already dark cave, Jaron swore he could catch the hint of a frown.

Flipping the painting around, the fox stared at the caption.

August 16th, 1979.

The final ritual tonight.

He'll finally come and take us from this cursed world.

We've heard the rumbles and seen the earth shake.

Templeton is quiet. The wait must be killing him.

We'll all be happy soon.

"I don't like the looks of that," Kartiel said - it was the first thing that came to mind when he saw the robes that the men were wearing. Orrin's comment about SAHR being a cult was seeming all the more likely, and, if there was anything Kartiel didn't like, it was the fervent admiration and blind loyalty to a single person or ideology.

Nearby, Lucifer quietly read the writing in an unsteady voice. Lucifer was trembling, and that, in turn, made Kartiel feel even more uneasy. The guy was literally the Devil - what could possibly scare him?

(In retrospect, Leo could, and Leo didn't seem all that terrifying.)

"I did speak to a ghost," Orrin confirmed a little farther away; his voice sounded distracted for understandable reasons.

And then there was Leo. Leo walked over and peered over his shoulder - curse the guy's tall height! Kartiel watched him as his face grew more and more pale. Yet, strangely enough, his eyes gained a little twinkle. It didn't make much sense. He was terrified, but he was also...excited? What was up with that?

"I think something bad happened," Leo quietly said, his voice little more than a whisper.

Kartiel gave him a look. "Of course something did - Orrin and Lucifer just were talking with ghosts, there's apparently a cult and people were kidnapped. Why wouldn't something bad have happened?" He knew he shouldn't get so upset, but he was getting a really bad feeling about this. And, sure, he had his powers. He teleport. He could control darkness. But he was just one enderman-god-reborn-as-a-human. How could he deal with whatever went on here?

"I know. It's just..." Leo hesitated and took a deep breath. "It could be a regular cult, and the final ritual involved killing multiple members of the town. Then our biggest problem would be ghosts, and I'm sure Lucifer and Orrin could help with that."

"But you don't think that's the case," Orrin guessed.

He nodded. "I think that final ritual involved them summoning something."

"Like a demon?" Kartiel asked in disbelief. "Look, demons don't ex-"

Lucifer and Leo both gave him very serious looks, so he promptly shut up. Apparently demons did exist. He probably should have been more terrified than he already was, but he was starting to run out of terror to give.

"I don't think it's a demon," Lucifer quietly argued. "Demons wouldn't...wouldn't do something like this. They're not usually bad, and I don't know if there's any of them that have this much power."

Leo took another deep breath. "It could be a different kind of demon."

"How many kinds are there?" Kartiel asked, exasperated.

"At least two, I'm guessing," Leo answered. He shifted uncomfortably, running his hands through his hair as he did so. "I don't think they knew what they were doing. If the right parameters weren't set, and the level was high enough, the demon could have easily destroyed the town in a heartbeat. Even a djinni could."

"Genie?" Kartiel repeated. "I thought we were talking about demons, not Aladdin."

Leo looked even more uncomfortable. Interesting. Why would he be getting so uncomfortable about a conversation he started? "It's a rank of demon. There's imps at the lowest level. Then there's foliots. Next is the dijnn. The fourth level are afrits, and the fifth are marids."

"And how do you know this?" Kartiel continued, folding his arms and turned his attention solely on Leo.

Leo didn't give an answer. He just looked helplessly over in the grumpy, miserable man's direction for a second before staring down at the ground.

Jaron ignored the conversation. It was people talking about things he didn't understand, using words he didn't understand, and getting frustrated at things he didn't understand. What mattered was that the pictures were really creepy, a couple of weirdly-dressed people had built this town in the middle of nowhere, and something had gone horribly wrong.

Setting the paintings back in the box, Jaron pulled out one of the robes and draped it over him. It was far too big for him, but he figured it'd be a good way to get inside the minds of the people in those paintings. It really was the same outfit, after all. Now, what would those happy people do?

He moved towards the door with the hole in it, robes billowing over the ground behind him. Looking through the hole for a couple seconds, he gasped, pulled off the robes, and covered the hole. He didn't want to think like the happy people after all. If he was right about the other room, it was obvious it hadn't ended well for them.

"What does it matter how he knows?" James replied in a harsh whisper at Leo's side. He stared at Jaron.

"I think Jaron found something."

"Maybe?" Jaron shouted, a little too quickly. The man was intimidating him again. "Maybe not?"