Page 1 of Raising Hell: MMF Edition

Chapter 1

Ruby

“Oh, no. No, no, no, no… Oh,sugar, this was not what I signed up for!” The red glow in front of me explodes, and my shriek could shatter glass as I reflexively cover my face, trying to shield myself from the blinding light. “Ah, William Shatner, no!”

My eyes squeeze shut, and the room’s vibrant redness transforms into a softer, orange shade behind my eyelids. Closed eyes…. just like I’m sleeping. That’s it… maybe if I concentrate all my energy into wishing this never happened, I’ll wake up in my bed and find that it was a bad dream.

That can happen, right? It’s a thing?

I’ll just will it all away… yep, that’s what I need to…

“Mwa-ha-ha-ha!” A deep, kind of cliche, undeniably evil laugh rings through the room, echoing from the walls, screaming from the empty corners, and surrounding me in a deafening blast of noise. My palms fly over my ears and push, hummingas loud as I can while pretending the world isn’t descending into chaos around me.

“Just a dream, Ruby. It’s just a dreeeEEAAAAH! Son of a biscuit maker, what was that?!” Something touched me. Something warm and solid, decidedlynotimaginary, brushed against my arm.

This is not a dream—it’s a goddamn nightmare, and my attempts to ignore the truth unravel in an instant. Denial flies out the window as I decide to do the only logical thing.

I’m going to run.

I’m going to run, maybe until I hit the Gulf of Mexico, and then… then I’m going to swim. Abandon this disaster and pretend it never happened.

Hindsight tells me that running without the use of my eyes and ears isn’t the smartest idea I’ve ever had, but it’s where I am in life right now. My body twists towards the door, aching for the safety that lies beyond, and I summon every ounce of strength to sprint out of this attic as fast as humanly possible.

“Oof!” Air is forced from my lungs as I slam into an unyielding surface that’s strangely soft, and I open my eyes to come face to face with… a set of very defined abs. “Oh, SUGAR!” I screech as my gaze drifts lower and finds an impressively large…

You know what?

Let’s back up and start from the beginning.

“I can’t believe you have to tackle this on your own,” my friend Deanna says through the phone. I swing the camera around, showing her the piles of junk that fill my grandmother’s house.It’s not filthy, because she kept it quite clean, but filled to the brim withstuff.

I pick up a ukulele from a pile of newspapers and glide my fingertips over the strings. “Yeah, well… she left me the property. It’s a small price to pay to clean it when it means getting out of that tiny, overpriced apartment. And besides,” I backtrack into the living room and turn the camera to sweep through. “I’m almost halfway done.”

“Where is it all going?” she asks, wide-eyed at the clean, clutter-free space.

“Most of it will be donated, but a lot of it is being sent straight to recycle or to the dump.” Granny Petra is probably rolling over in her grave knowing I’m throwing away some of her beloved things, but nobody needs hundreds of plastic Arby’s cups… even if they’ve been washed.

Sorry, not sorry. Like, at all.

Then there’s the bizarre stuff I’ve found… glass jars full of objects that might be fur or teeth, and liquids in unnatural colors that seem to always be bubbling. There are a few small skeletons that I’m hoping are just tacky Halloween decorations.

Until I figure out what in the world I’m supposed to do with them, they’re packed away in a box.

And handled with gloves… toxic waste, and all.

Look at me, saving the planet one corpse at a time.

We chat for a few more minutes with mindless gossip until the work at hand beckons me and I end the call. Hands on my hips, I survey the room, mentally cataloguing the junk with a loud sigh.

This is going to take forever.

Fur brushes against my leg and I glance down. “There you are, Shadow,” I say, leaning to give her a gentle scritch under her chin, while the vibrations of her purr rumble against my fingertips. She was also Granny Petra’s, and has loved me sincethe day I met her almost a decade ago. Shadow’s head tilts and her tail flickers around my ankle, staring as if she’s waiting for me to take the lead.

“Alright, kitty, let’s get to work.” Her meow sounds suspiciously like an agreement.

The next morning, I wake up to the gentle touch of sunlight on my face, and I groan in protest, pulling the pillow over my face to protect me from the solar attack. It’s still strange waking up here, even though I’ve spent the past week and a half sleeping at Granny’s house.My new house,I correct in my head. Shadow stirs on my chest, kneading the blankets before curling back up without a care.

For a few minutes, I bask in the serene warmth of the morning and enjoy the gentle vibration of purrs, but soon enough, reality beckons. “It’s the weekend, Shadow,” I say as I drag my fingers through her silky black fur. “Which means I have to get some stuff done around here.” The process of cleaning has been slow and tedious, especially when I have to squeeze it in between my work schedule.

---