Young Writers Society

I landed in the middle of a city with a flash of neon light, which merged seamlessly with the backdrop of illuminated billboards. It was dark. Wind whipped my hair as I staggered away from what I suddenly realized was the edge of a huge building. I noticed that the decoder was in my hand and struggled to open it. Someone grabbed my ankle. I yelped and kicked, falling over.

“It’s just me, idiot!” snapped Amy. “Look what you’ve done! Where are we?”

“I know this,” said Lucy dreamily from behind me, golden hair swirling around her face. “This is the opening scene of The Black Phantom!”

We got to our feet and looked around us. Wayne was searching for an escape route. “No stairs or anything. We’re stuck.”

“Right!” I twisted the decoder. “We’re going straight back home!” But the small white block remained resolutely closed.

“Lucy,” I murmured, “what exactly happens in the first scene?”

“Oh, they introduce the main characters. Nathalie comes up here to rest after a bad day, she sits on the north side, then Leon comes swooping down from the south and tries to kill her.”

“That might just be a problem,” Wayne said. “We’re standing here, too.”

“Is that the north side?” I asked, fear clenching my stomach. A lonely figure was hunched on the edge of the building, fair hair falling over her white wings.

“Where’s the halo?” Wayne snorted.

Lucy was ecstatic. “It’s just how I imagined her!” I saw her face turn white under her freckles as she spun around. “Everyone, get down, now!” she commanded, blue eyes flashing. She pulled us all onto the concrete – not a moment too soon. The dreaded angel swooped over us, scything the air with his black wings, his dark face contorted into a fierce snarl.

“Cool…” breathed Lucy as the specter collided with the unsuspecting little figure. Nathalie’s wings unfurled in mid-air and the battle was on. We watched in awe as they wrestled violently, inches from death, fireballs flashing from their hands.

“This is the part where she gets him – ” Lucy craned her neck, “ – oh! Nice! Straight in the stomach!”

The black angel dropped away, trailing feathers. Nathalie rose and balanced on the edge of the building, staring down into the depths.

“What happens now?” Wayne asked.

“Well,” Lucy thought for a second, “Leon comes at her from behind again.”

“What, like where we’re standing?” asked Amy.

“Exactly,” hissed the black angel, a few inches behind me. I leapt and screamed and almost dropped the decoder. Nathalie spun around and flared her wings. I silently cursed the little block, feeling it slip around in my sweaty palm, refusing to open.

“Surrender, oh white one!” cried Leon, in the theatrical words of the novel. “If you refuse, these children will die – horribly!” A fireball appeared in his hand, which he aimed at Lucy. Her face had been transformed from delight to terror.

“This isn’t supposed to happen!” she squeaked, backing away. Leon advanced on us.

“Give up, white angel!” he hissed. “Now come to me, slowly.”

Out of the corner of my eye I spotted Nathalie coming closer, hands raised in submission.

“Sleep,” he whispered, allowing the flames to evaporate in a puff of silvery smoke. Nathalie collapsed onto the concrete, soon followed by Lucy and Amy. I saw Wayne fall through a haze of sleepiness, but I fought the spell with bitter desperation. I had been unconscious too many times in the past few days. The dark angel frowned at my resistance and repeated his command. I was forced to my knees, fighting for breath. The world swayed. Leon growled. I heard his footsteps behind me, felt the sharp kick to my head and knew no more. Again.