Page 57 of Mostly Shattered

The glowing butterflies are real. This is my future. I have to face it. I have to go underground into the supernatural realm.

I feel Costin move past me through the door, unafraid.

I peek inside before angling my body to step through the opening, careful not to touch the writhing carvings along the doorframe.

The air inside is cold, unnaturally so. My breath comes out in shaky puffs, each one dissipating into the darkness.

I shiver, rubbing my arms. I can’t help thinking of my family’s crypt, watching as a wizard sealed their corpses into the wall. I shake the image from my mind.

Twelve large metal plaques are affixed to the walls to mark the graves within. Small niches are evenly spaced, and empty flower vases are attached along the outside edges. I listen to the stone tomake sure nothing moves inside. An empty coffin platform is in the middle of the room. I don’t touch it.

“It’s warmer down below.” Costin pulls at a sconce, and I hear stone grinding beneath us. He gestures to the corner of the room.

Two butterflies follow his hand, diving into a hole in the floor to reveal a stairwell. Loud thumps sound behind me, and I turn to see the rest of the butterflies hitting the door. They knock it shut behind us with a decisive thud, closing us in.

“Stay behind me.” Costin leads me down winding steps.

Shadows flicker at the edge of my vision, stretching between the stone pillars that line the crypt’s walls. My pulse quickens, and I fight the urge to run. I can’t let this place get to me. This is only the entryway. I can’t let the fear take over.

But it’s hard. So hard.

I think of my brother down below, and I grab my phone. Anthony hasn’t responded to my previous texts checking in. I try again, typing,“Coming down. With Costin. Where are you?”

“What are you doing?” Costin asks, his voice tight.

He can be annoyed with me all he wants. “Texting Anthony that we’re coming down.”

“I will protect you.” He sounds defensive.

“Didn’t say anything about that. He’s my brother, and I promised to tell him when we went underground.” I slide the phone back into my pocket.

He says nothing as he leads the way down the stairwell. The green light fades into darkness as we descend, replaced by shadows that twist and curl around us. And then I hear it—the whispers. Faint, barely audible at first, but growing louder with every step.

“Tamara.”The voice is familiar, too familiar.“Tamara.”

“Do you hear that?” I ask Costin, surging forward to press against his back.

“A breeze is whispering against the stone,” he says.

“Tamara.”It sounds like... Conrad? How can he be here?

I grab hold of Costin’s arm and hold tight.

I keep walking, but the whispers follow, circling around me, growing louder, more insistent.

“Tamara.”

“Tamara.”

“Tamara.”

I pull him to a stop, and we wait on the steps. “Someone is saying my name.”

He puts his hand over mine and again starts walking. “This place is full of tricks and spells meantto distract you. Ignore them. They are manifestations of your fears.”

Each step feels like I’m leaving something behind—my old life, my humanity, my safety. The tomb air becomes thick and oppressive, pressing down to force me inside. The penthouse feels so far away, almost like a different world that I can never return to. I’ve crossed a threshold. I’m in a supernatural realm, and there’s no turning back.

Light appears from below. I lean forward before turning a corner. We reach the bottom. Thick prison bars block the exit.

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