Author's Preface
Beyond Two Worlds
Evelyn huffed and snapped the novel shut with a heavy thud. “They defeated him like that?!” She groaned, palming her face. “It could have been so much better. But no — they had to defeat him by the power of friendship.” She muttered, tossing the book onto the desk. What a joke , she thought, resting her chin on her hand, eyes sweeping across the library.
It was eerily quiet. A teenager sat by the far window lost in a book, while an older man browsed the history section. Outside, the steady rhythm of heavy rain lashed against the tall glass panes.
It’s a quiet night , she thought, glancing down at the disappointing book on her desk. She unlocked her phone, scrolling through online reviews to see if anyone else shared her outrage over the ending.
The chiming of the front door bell snapped her back to reality. A man drenched from head to toe strode straight toward the new releases section. He snatched a book, marched to her counter, and slapped it down, drumming his fingers impatiently against the wood.
Evelyn raised an eyebrow, keeping her face neutral. Well, good evening to you too . She didn’t waste her breath making small talk, silently scanning the book, bagging it, and handing it over. Before she could even finish her customer-service smile, the man grabbed the bag. Then, before darting back out into the rain, he shot her a look.
“You know, things could turn bad tonight,” he said.
Evelyn watched him disappear into the storm. What a weird man , she thought.
A moment later, the older man walked up to her desk with a soft smile, placing a thick tome in front of her. “May I borrow this one?” he asked.
Evelyn glanced at the cover. “You’re really into history. Could I see your library card, please?”
“History is the only place where the dead still speak,” he mused, reaching into his coat for his ID.
Evelyn smiled back, typing his information into the system. “There you go. You have this for a month. If you need to extend it, just give us a call or pop in.”
He took the book, nodding appreciatively, but paused before turning away. “I think you might want to close up early tonight, Evelyn. I heard on the radio that this storm is turning into something much worse.”
A flicker of unease rippled through her. Evelyn had always loved stormy nights, but tonight felt… different. The storm didn’t look frightening yet, but a strange tension hung in the heavy air, making her skin prickle.
“I think I will,” she admitted.
The teenager packed up her bag and headed for the door shortly after, leaving Evelyn alone in the empty library.
She stretched her aching back and stepped from behind the desk, gathering left-behind books and sliding each title back into its rightful place on the shelves. Looking out the window, a snap of lightning struck the ground somewhere in the distance.
“Oh gosh!” Evelyn blinked. Was what she’d just seen even real?
She hurried and grabbed her coat, flipped the lock on the front door, and turned the sign to CLOSED.
As she stepped outside onto the covered porch, the sound of the pouring rain suddenly vanished.
Evelyn stopped dead in her tracks. The air went completely dead and silent — no wind, no patter of water, as if someone had hit a mute button on the universe. She turned around in confusion. The rain was still falling heavily right in front of her eyes, but it made no sound at all.
Then, a violent crack of thunder shattered the air, shaking the pavement beneath her boots. Sound flooded back in a deafening roar.
“Might be a good time to get home, Evelyn,” she muttered to herself.
The wind whipped around her, so violent it nearly threw her off balance as she hurried across the parking lot. She reached her car, yanked the door open, and dove inside, shivering as she slammed it shut. Another flash of lightning lit up the sky, followed instantly by a boom that made her flinch.
What is wrong with me tonight? she thought, rubbing her arms to chase away the chill.
She started the ignition. Moments later, the dashboard display illuminated, and the car’s AI assistant spoke in a smooth tone: “Ethan is calling. Would you like me to answer?”
“Yes, please,” Evelyn sighed. Who am I being polite to? she thought with a faint, amused smile.
“Hey, Evelyn, where are you?” Ethan’s voice blared over the speakers, tight with urgency.
“Why? What’s going on?” she asked, instantly on guard.
“Are you blind? A huge storm is hitting the county. Hurry up and get home — I know you’re still hiding out in your weird library.”
“It’s not weird,” Evelyn shot back defensively.
“Uh-huh,” her older brother replied dryly.
“Anyway, I’m in the car now. Heading back.”
Ethan let out a breath. “Drive carefully, alright?”
Despite her instinct to act annoyed by his nagging, warmth bloomed in her chest. She appreciated how protective he was. “Will do. Bye, Ethan.”
Ending the call, she put the car in drive and pulled out into the night.
The windshield wipers swept frantically across the glass, barely able to clear the sheets of water cascading down. Visibility was dropping fast. Suddenly, the glow of her headlights caught a massive, uprooted oak tree blocking both lanes of the road.
“Dammit,” Evelyn cursed, slamming on the brakes.
Heart hammering, she turned the wheel and backed up, opting for the winding backroad that cut through the deep woods. It wasn’t a route she usually took, especially not in conditions like this. Dense trees pressed against both sides of the narrow asphalt, casting long, swaying shadows.
It was pitch black, and the headlights barely cut three feet through the torrential downpour. She gripped the steering wheel; her nails dug crescents into the leather, unable to shake the feeling that she was driving straight into something she couldn’t turn back from.
The radio gave a sharp, high-pitched squawk of static, making Evelyn jump. On the dashboard display, the digital clock blinked erratically, the numbers glitching before going entirely dark.
“What the…?” she muttered, tapping the screen. Nothing. Even the headlights hummed, flickering violently as if the car’s battery was being drained by some invisible magnet.
Then she saw it through the torrential downpour.
Off to the right side of the road, deep between the weeping branches of the pine trees, a strange pulse of light flickered. It wasn’t the harsh, white glare of lightning, nor was it the yellow glow of a house lantern. It was a deep, mesmerizing violet — a tear of liquid indigo light that seemed to warp the very rain falling around it.
The space surrounding the light seemed to swallow the rain pouring into it, like a hole with no bottom. Evelyn’s foot instinctively eased off the gas pedal. Her heart hammered against her ribs as she stared into the tree line, her mind scrambling for a logical explanation. A fallen power line? A transformer blowing?
Before she could process the thought, the air in front of her car split open with a sound like tearing silk.
A sudden, violent shockwave blasted out from the woods, throwing leaves, mud, and water across her windshield. Evelyn gasped, but before her foot could hit the brake, a massive figure tumbled directly out of the darkness and into the glare of her headlights.
“Oh my god!” Evelyn shrieked.
She slammed her foot onto the brake pedal with all her weight and yanked the steering wheel to the left. The tires lost traction on the slick, mud-covered asphalt. The car skidded wildly, the engine roaring as the vehicle spun in a half-circle before slamming to a hard, bone-jarring halt against the muddy shoulder of the road.
The seatbelt dug violently into her chest, locking her in place. Evelyn sat frozen, her breath coming in ragged, terrified gasps as smoke drifted up from the locked brakes.
Outside, the rain pounded against the roof.
Hands shaking uncontrollably, Evelyn forced herself to look out the driver’s side window. The car’s high beams were still blazing, casting two long beams of light through the dark downpour. Crouched in the center of the muddy road, right in the beam of her headlights, was a man. Or at least, he looked like a man.
He was down on one knee, gasping for air as if he’d been thrown from a moving building. He didn’t wear a raincoat, a jacket, or anything remotely modern. Instead, he was clad in elegant, intricate chest armor that glinted silver under the rain, dark fabrics torn to ribbons, and broad shoulder guards carved with archaic symbols.
Blood — dark and heavy — was pooling through a brutal tear in his shoulder armor, dripping onto the wet road.
Evelyn couldn’t breathe. “Is he... is he dead?” she whispered to herself. Her palms felt sweaty and cold. I didn’t hit him — I would have felt it if I did. He just came out of nowhere. Should I call Ethan…
As if hearing her, the figure slowly lifted his head.
Long, rain-soaked hair the color of spun moonlight fell away from his face. He looked up, peering straight through her rain-streaked window with eyes that held no pupils — just a soft, terrifying, luminescent silver glow that cut clean through the darkness.
Their eyes locked, and for a second, the storm, the woods, and the entire world vanished. Evelyn, though she should have been terrified, couldn’t tear her eyes away and just stared back. She felt drawn to it somehow. Then, the stranger collapsed sideways onto the cold, wet asphalt, and went completely still.