Page 13 of The Teddy Bear's Prize

I have witnessed mortals breaking down after hearing that there are entire worlds beyond their perception, but maybe Mia had expected this all along. Though I do still sense that there is a war being waged by her subconscious.

I find her leaning over the chair in her dark office, her face half-lit by the monitor. On her desk, she has her cellphone connected to the computer with a thin black cable.

“I’m blaming you for the lights, by the way.” She doesn’t even look up from what she’s doing.

“I apologize, I didn’t think that they would be that fragile,” I move to stand beside her, watching the screen populate with photographs from the carnival, “What are you doing here, exactly?”

She’s working so quickly that I can barely read any ofthe little screens that pop up or the questions that they are asking of her.

I have only experienced this new technology through dreams. It is curious how mortals push themselves beyond their limits until their dreams are nothing but computer code. All I need to do is watch, their fear, anger, and frustration is like a three-course meal.

“I’m uploading the photos I took of the ring toss and, more importantly, the strange symbols that were painted on the side of the stall.” She replies, drawing out the words as she continues working, “I’m going to run the images through a search engine to see if we get any matches.”

“You are talking about sacred rituals with the power to summon and bind demons. Witches have been guarding these spells for centuries, I don’t think that you are going to find a trace of them with some computer program?—”

“Found ‘em.” She says, looking over her shoulder with a smile. The expression melts from her face as her eyes flit to my lips and my chest. I am suddenly aware of how close we are when the sweet taste of her desire hits my tongue.

Perhaps if I were just to lean a little closer—“What do you mean you found them?” I turn to the screen.

Most of the pictures are too blurry to make out even a quarter of the symbols needed to lend nuance to the rituals, but there they are on the screen and available to all.

“This—this is incredibly dangerous. These spells are incomplete and mostly illegible,” I touch the screen, tracing part of the imperfect image, “if someone were to do as much as guess at what these symbols are, they could get hurt or bring about something terrible like a plague, an apocalypse, or worse.”

“There are things worse than a plague and an apocalypse?”

“A gateway to a demon dimension would be a good example. They take a lot of power to close.”

Mia stares at me, “Has that happened before?”

“Once or twice in my lifetime, but not in over a hundred years.”

“Once or twice in your lifetime? How old are you? No, focus.” She shakes her head and turns back to the screen, “Okay, see, right here the photos match a book called,” she points, “Shades of the Occult by Michael Albert Hughes. Weird, this search is saying there’s a copy at the local library—and it’s currently checked out. Figures. I’ll just put a hold on it.”

I brace myself on the desk, massaging the bridge of my nose, “Let me get this straight, not only has a mortal transcribed ancient spells strong enough to summon demons, but there is a copy at your local library?”

“We’re looking at the best-case scenario here, given your current predicament,” Mia says, standing up straight and folding her arms over her chest, “If you could free yourself from the bear without a spell, can’t you just use your powers to return home?”

“I could try but, I could also accidentally punch a hole through the fabric of the veil, which would be disastrous.”

Mia sighs, “Right, demon gateway. I’d rather not deal with one of those, I’m sure it’d be enough to make me lose my security deposit.”

The phone on her desk vibrates, the sound jarring enough to make us both jump.

She grabs it and swipes her thumb over the screen and sighs, “It’s my friend Erika, she just texted me to let me know her brother Jason is available to look at the wiring today around 3.” She looks over at me, “Unless you can fix this with some sort of demon magic.” She points to the overhead fixture.

I shake my head, “My powers are limited. I cannot wave my hand and create like others can.”

“You’re saying that kind of magic exists? Real magic.” She wiggles her fingers at me.

“You didn’t know?” I tilt my head, “You surround yourself with movies and books containing it, but you don’t believe in it yourself?”

She sighs and taps her thumbs across the screen, “It’s an escape, a fantasy. Everyone wishes they could just ‘fix things’. It doesn’t mean that it’s possible.” She sets the phone down, “There, I told them that 3 was fine, but we’re going to have to figure a few things out. First, you’re going to need some clothes and then we can worry about how gray you look.”

I run my hand over my stomach, “You don’t like gray?”

“No,” her eyes follow the path it takes, “It’s not that I don’t like gray, it’s just that people aren’t usually?—”

“You are concerned about how others will perceive me. I understand. To everyone else, I look like a mortal. I revealed myself to you because I felt that seeing my true form would be less frightening.”

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