Page 79 of Zero Happily Ever Afters

As he held back the anguish of so many visions rattling through his mind at once, The Sisters Three surged further into Milo’s mind. They barged into the white circular room where Milo kept his Dispatch Board of Destiny, a place to track the many colorful potential threads of tens of thousands of people. Each string represented someone Milo hoped to offer the best, careful not to ruin their choices or push them away from others they might happily end up entwined with. The strings sparked, casting tiny flames in every direction of the board as each thread Milo studied over the years burned to cinders.

The white room where he stored them crumbled and cracked apart, and the office where Milo organized every outdated vision rumbled ferociously. The filing cabinets sprang open all at once, spitting the neatly sorted papers into the air. Each piece carried the weight of a vision that collided with Milo’s psyche.

“We’re nowhere near finished with you,” the light lilted voice whispered. “Let us show you the future we’ve declared, the future fate has decided,” the raspy voice dripped venom. “Quake at the power of your betters,” the stern voice said right as raging water poured into Milo’s mind.

Milo sank into the depths of the ocean conjured by The True Witch, who materialized beside The Sisters Three from purple smoke, holding her bone staff and no longer fazed by the effects of Darla’s counter.

“We told Icarus he dared too much.” The Sisters Three cackled in unison, unveiling countless lives they’d professed to have controlled, altered, and manipulated over the course of several thousand years. I couldn’t track it; the names and faces whirled by too quickly, mixed together with the flashes of tens of thousands of visions simultaneously replaying in Milo’s mind. “Like him, your plummet into death will be ignoble. Because you, Enchanter Milo Evergreen, are worthless to our story. A meager obstacle, hardly even an afterthought.”

No.

No.

No.

I had to stop this. They couldn’t harm Milo. I wouldn’t allow it. I’d rip them to pieces.

“How?” the light lilted voice asked. “It is already foretold,” the raspy voice whispered behind me. “You are nothing, Dorian Frost, not even an obstacle in our path.”

I backstepped away from the feminine silhouette of one psychic sister who walked inside my head only to bump into another who stood behind me. Her hands wrapped over my temples.

Milo’s agony faded. I couldn’t remain tethered to him while he suffered so much. While I suffered.

Everyone’s thoughts vanished.

The world went black.

Chapter Twenty-Three

In a matter of seconds, The Sisters Three had torn apart everything in my inner core. They shattered the elegance of my ballroom. They shredded portraits holding recent memories with Milo, with the second chance we’d found, and the happiness we had. They smashed images of Charlie and Carlie. They burned every prideful teacher moment I had.

Then they ripped up the floorboards of my shame, my fears, my failures. I fell to my knees, unable to act as they ransacked my mind. Goddamn, they planned on taking every part of my being and breaking it.

“Don’t waste your time, sisters,” the light lilted voice said. “This one swims in his regrets every day.”

“Pathetic.” The raspy-voiced silhouette spat on the memories she’d planned on hurling at me.

Each form of The Sisters Three traipsed about independently while inside my head, their bodies like white marble statues, still merely silhouettes, though. Their faces held no features, and their bodies had curves and a femineity to their build, but they were like dolls. It wasn’t some way to leave things to the imagination. No, it was like even as they stomped through my head, invading my every thought, they didn’t believe me worthyto lay sight upon their true form, their image, their profound being.

“Heeeeey, sisters. Looky here,” the light lilted voice called out as she unraveled the visions Milo had organized. “It’s like a sad little imitation of our connection. Their frequencies are almost there.”

“But this one’s magic is far tooweakto handle holding onto another being’s magic,” the raspy voice said, shaking her hips. “Weak, weak, weak.”

“He bores me,” the stern voice said, throwing the visions around my head, letting them stampede across my every thought.

These three sisters each possessed their own psychic magic yet seemed to use the other’s ability as their own. They really were like one entity, one supreme psychic being.

Screams outside my mind called out. Not to me, but to anyone. I tried to open my eyes, but I couldn’t see anything beyond the confines of my own inner core that’d been set aflame. Still, the foulest voice in the carnage rose high above everything else.

“You’re ruining my game,” Theodore snapped. “Evergreen is mine to defeat.”

Milo grunted, still lost inside the ocean that was slowly drowning him, but a sharp kick from Theodore made his body react. Theodore’s imagination painted a bloody version of Milo on the ground, the one he sought to bring into reality. But now, when he kicked the enchanter, he couldn’t relish in the whimpering gasp because Milo lay in a daze created by The True Witch. It sickened Theodore, annoyed him.

I ground my teeth, nearly drawn from the trap of my own mind. A palpable, furious desire to snatch Theodore by the throat and strangle him as he continued kicking Milo, waiting for the joy of his sadistic assault to fill his thoughts. But itdidn’t. He kicked and punched Milo with passion yet didn’t take pleasure in breaking the unconscious enchanter. Each strike broke a piece of my hope.

Hope that Milo would wake. Hope that Enchanter Evergreen had a plan. Hope that The Inevitable Future would save the day.

“Next time, do not touch what doesn’t belong to you.” The True Witch’s staff beamed brightly as the auras of infinite magics and the souls of their fallen casters shimmered at the edge of my mind, carrying this radiance of pure, unfathomable power.

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