The staff area of Belview Department Store was located to behind kitchenware. Rows of knives in one of the aisles flashed like teeth, and the aether-graphs of smiling families plastered onto boxes swam in and out of focus as the trio passed by the never ending products.

  There was a familiar ashy and metallic scent in the air, and after a few moments Mishka stopped. She sniffed suspiciously at a row filled with pastel-coloured cups splashed with saccharine phrases. Then she saw it. There, lying on the ground was another body, larger and masculine – an alf.

  “What is it?” asked Astrid, peering over Mishka’s shoulder.

  “Someone else,” said Mishka, flexing her hand and increasing the illumination of her warelight. It took a moment longer than it should have, but then the golden light bloomed, revealing more details on the body.

  “Oh, spirits!” said Razzarl.

  The body had been horrifically charred by what looked like electrical discharge. Black hair, pulled into a ponytail, with salt-and-pepper at the temples. They were… familiar, although Mishka couldn’t be sure where she had seen them before.

  “What happened?” asked Astrid.

  Mishka flicked her eyes over the wound. “Electrical discharge – looks like an aetheric lightning bolt,” she said, pulling out her magnifying glass. This time it worked straight away, and told her exactly what she had expected to find. “Yes. This was battle-magic.”

  Astrid was silent for a moment. “The kind… you do?” she said.

  Mishka frowned at her. “I don’t do that kind of thing,” she said.

  “But you can,” said Astrid.

  “I don’t,” said Mishka hotly. “And I’ve been with you the whole time-”

  “I wasn’t accusing you,” said Astrid, holding up her hands.

  “Well, it sounds like you were,” snapped Mishka, standing and putting the magnifying glass away. “I can’t help him. Also… is this the same shirt you had on?”

  “Huh?” said Astrid, leaning forward and looking at the body. “The… what? No – surely not.”

  “What is it?” asked Razzarl, hovering over Astrid’s shoulder.

  “That’s- that’s a Stellar Horizon’s shirt,” said Astrid. “But that’s impossible-”

  “You thought you’d escaped?” came a cold, rasping, gravelly voice. Rolling through her mind like sticky, liquid darkness.

  Astrid and Razzarl screamed, and Mishka looked up from the alf to see the pestilent, corpulent form of the Absence slithering towards them between the shelves of crockery.

  Its large, slug-like body glistened in the darkness, its bladed, mantis-like arms cut at the air, and it stared out from dozens of irregularly sized eyes that seemed to drink in the warelight. It opened its mouth, Mishka wrinkled her nose as fetid breath wafted between its large, flat teeth.

  “Mishka! Mishka it’s- it’s the thing!” screamed Astrid, falling over herself to scramble away from it. “The thing from the asteroid!”

  “No, it’s not,” said Mishka, standing slowly and narrowing her eyes.

  “Just- just fucking look at it!” said Astrid, her entire body trembling. “We both saw it! You- you know that’s what it looked like-”

  “If it were the Absence-”

  “-only you fucking call it that-”

  “-it would never have shown itself to three people,” said Mishka, stepping towards the slug-creature. “It isn’t that creature. It’s just copying its appearance.”

  “Are- are you sure?” said Astrid weakly.

  “It’s not affecting our memory,” said Mishka, taking another step towards it. “And it would have never followed us here, never have confronted me. It knows that I’m the only one who has a hope of trapping it. It would have stayed on Baelgoroth’s world, feasted there. Or else slunk off away on this one.”

  The slug like creature hissed and gnashed its terrible flat teeth.

  “What are you then, some kind of illusion?” said Mishka, peering at it with her magnifying glass. “Some kind of phantasm? Able to access our memories? Perhaps even our subconscious? Did you make the body too?”

  The creature took a swipe at her, and Mishka barely managed to jerk back in time to avoid the scything blade, which whistled through the air her neck had been and embedded itself in the shelf, sending pastel covered mugs falling to the floor where they shattered in a rainbow of colourful shards and snippets of insipid sayings.

  “OK, new hypothesis: maybe it’s not an illusion,” said Mishka, backing up as the creature put back its head and roared. “We should, um, probably run.”

  They set off at a sprint towards the back of the store.

  “Mishka! Just- just blast it!” said Astrid.

  “Maybe that’s what it wants,” said Mishka.

  “Or maybe that would actually stop it!” said Astrid.

  “I told you-”

  “Yeah, you ‘don’t do that,’” said Astrid. “It’s a fucking monster! Just fucking blast it already!”

  Mishka did not, in fact, blast it. Although she did turn and wave a hand, releasing a pulse of telekinesis that shattered a whole display of rolling pins, which bounced and tumbled into the path of the slug-like monster and slowed it down a little.

  They reached the back of the store, and Razzarl threw open a door marked ‘Staff Only,’ Astrid followed, and then Mishka, before the reptillian woman slammed it shut. Mishka closed her eyes and focused, pressing her hands against the door. Seconds past, but eventually her magic started obeying her, and a pulse of gold raced out across the door, fusing it to the frame.

  “There,” said Mishka, stepping back and dusting her hands. “It would take siege magic to get through-”

  Bang!

  Astrid and Razzarl flinched, and Mishka frowned as the creature hurled its bulk against the door, making it wobble in its frame. Once, twice, and then three times it repeated the motion without success. Then it stopped, and Mishka pressed her ear against the door, catching the sound of it slithering away.

  “See? Nothing to worry about,” said Mishka with a grin. “I think it’s leaving-”

  Bang!

  The door buckled and cracked, almost, but not quite coming off its hinges. The monster swept its scythe-like arm through the gap at Mishka, who bobbed back just in time to avoid having her throat cut open.

  “That- that isn’t possible!” said Mishka. “That is a High Magic seal!”

  Cheap wooden chipboard split and shattered as the creature continued to rip its way through in defiance of the fact that Mishka had put a seal of the door that could have stopped an explosion that would have levelled the rest of the building.

  “Come on!” said Astrid, grabbing Mishka’s hand and pulling her away. “If you’re not going to blast it, then come on!”

  They pelted down a long, narrow corridor lined with roster sheets and glossy posters talking about ‘how much management loved its team!’ They passed a dingy staff room, and then reached a door with ‘Authorised Personnel Only’ on it.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  “This is where the light systems are, but it’s locked!” wailed Razzarl, rattling the metal handle.

  “Mishka!” said Astrid. “Snap out of it!”

  “That- that door should have held,” muttered Mishka as she stared down the corridor to where the monster was continuing to break its way in.

  “Mishka!” screamed Astrid, pushing her at the door. “Open it! We need the lights!”

  Mishka, focused back on the door. She stared at it for a moment, then snapped her fingers. The door opened, leading into a cramped room filled with crystals and exposed wires and levers and switches that ran the buildings various power systems. It was all very primitive looking.

  “Mishka, hurry up!” said Astrid. “That thing is nearly through your ‘unbreakable’ seal.”

  Mishka’s frown deepened as she cast her eye over the systems, tracing the various conduits and cables. She found the fault almost immediately – a crystal matrix that had cracked and shattered. Which… made no sense. A storm shouldn’t have done that – not unless there had been a lightning strike, which she would have heard…

  She followed the wires, frowning when she saw that they were… crazy. It was is if it was someone’s idea of what a power switch room was supposed to look like, but who had no real concept of how they actually worked.

  “Mishka!” said Astrid.

  Mishka shook herself and spread her hands, beginning to chant in Ursulan. Golden light wafted from her fingers, washing over the shattered remains of the crystal and raised them into the air. Then Mishka turned her hand anti-clockwise, and they began to snap back into place, fusing with the sound of something shattering in reverse: clattering and disparate to begin with before growing louder and building towards a single, high pitch trebling note that vanished at its apex.

  Overhead the lights flickered on, and Mishka lowered her hand, continuing to stare at the bizarre wiring.

  “Mishka!” screamed Astrid, her voice higher and sharper than Mishka had ever heard before.

  She shook herself. Her friend needed her.

  The creature was almost through the door. Razzarl had started to run off, but Astrid seemed frozen, half-collapsed against some boxes. Her face was white, her arms trembling, and her pupils wide. A panic attack, Mishka recognised the signs.

  “Astrid, Astrid, listen to me,” said Mishka, grabbing her friends face and forcing her to look away. “Whatever that thing is, it isn’t the Absence. Think about it – it doesn’t have the memory powers-”

  “How would we know!?” said Astrid.

  “Because we can see it,” said Mishka. “Whatever it is, and I’m not saying it isn’t dangerous, but it isn’t the Absence. Yes? You agree?”

  Astrid gulped, but them nodded her head. “Yes, I- it- it can’t be, it’s-”

  The sound of the door being torn apart vanished, and Mishka and Astrid both turned their heads to see the door, whole and undamaged, and no sign of the creature.

  “It- it’s gone?” said Astrid.

  “Interesting…” muttered Mishka, passing down the corridor and placing a hand on the door. She closed her eyes and released a scanning spell, making the doors structure appear in her mind. She could feel her seal, still in place, with no indication that it had been breached, as well as no damage beyond normal wear and tear to the mechanism. She released it and opened the door, peering out into the store.

  The giant space loomed ahead of her, rows of beds and couches and other furniture extending out in every direction. Of the monster, there was no sign. She stepped through the door and examined the other side. Nothing.

  “I don’t understand,” said Astrid, carefully inching out behind. Her face had recovered some of its colour, and her trembling was growing less violent. “This door was broken.”

  “It also didn’t used to lead to the inn section,” said Mishka, moving over and sitting over on a large, fluffy double. She sat on it, running a hand over the soft, silky spread. It felt real, and when she brought out her magnifying glass everything registered as normal on the device, which seemed to be functioning properly again.

  “That… no,” said Razzarl in a weak voice. “There- this should be kitchenware…”

  “But that’s impossible,” said Astrid, before turning to Mishka. “Isn’t it?”

  “Hmm,” said Mishka, grabbing a pillow. A moment later there was a rip of fabric, and then an explosion of feathers as Mishka tore the pillow in two. Her eyes flicked back and forth as she tracked the feathers in the air. She narrowed her eyes. “Hmm…? Hmm.”

  “Care to share with the class?” said Astrid, a hint of her usual snark returning. That was a good sign. “You have an idea what that creature was – don’t you? I can tell.”

  “Fear,” said Mishka, looking up from the feathers. “I think that was some kind of fear… thing.”

  “That the technical term?” said Astrid.

  “It vanished when your logic overcame your fear response,” said Mishka. “The manager, I think that spider was conjured by the manager’s fear. And it killed him. Scared him to death.”

  “Who cares what it is!? We need- we need to get out!” said Razzarl, her voice cracking. “We need to get out of the store! This- it has to be this way!”

  Mishka trailed after Razzarl and Astrid as they passed through the inn section, and up some stairs into the pets area. No, that wasn’t right. The inn section didn’t lead to the pets, the miscellaneous section did, or the clothes from the other way…

  “Where- the entrance! Where is the entrance!?” shouted Razzarl, rushing forward and up another set of stairs, back into the bedding section. “Where is the-”

  Another harrowing scream echoed down the rows of products away from where Razzarl was running. All three of them froze, and then Mishka bolted, running straight towards the sound, through a small gardening section into the clothing area, releasing a spell to scan for nearby lifeforms. The results came to her sluggishly as her magic continued to act up, but she did manage to locate one life-sign – in the changing room section.

  The lights flickered overhead as Mishka skidded into the corridor lined with curtains. There, at the end, looming over a stall with the curtain pulled back was a tall, grey skinned, bald, damp… thing. Vaguely Ursulanoid, but with incredibly long limbs and that ended in greasy, dirty, three fingered hands. It was clad in some kind of formal-looking suit, with a crisp white collar, a waistcoat, and tuxedo jacket.

  She could hear faint sobs and whimpers coming from the changing booth – the spot she had sensed the life-form. A monster, and its victim… this was becoming a pattern.

  “Hey!” said Mishka, moving towards the monster that was totally opaque to her mystic senses. “Hey!”

  The creature paused and turned towards her. The monster lacked eyes entirely, the only feature on its smooth, damp face a massive jaw filled with rows and rows and rows of rotting, broken teeth.

  It took a step towards her as Mishka came to a stop, stooping down and beginning to sketch a rune onto the ground with a glowing silver finger.

  The creature broke into a loping run, closing on her rapidly. Mishka finished the last stroke and lurched back onto her rear just as the creature reached her. Its foot touched the rune, and there was a surge of light as silver chains erupted from the ground, surging upward and wrapping around its arms and legs and torso and neck, anchoring it.

  “Not very clever, are you?” said Mishka, peering up at the creature as it snarled and struggled.

  There was a creak from one of the chains as it strained, and she saw one of the links, which should have been capable of restraining creatures twenty times that size, began to stretch and strain.

  “Strong though,” she muttered, edging around it and rushing to the second to last stall where the curtain was pulled back.

  There, on the floor, was Jowel, cowering in the corner, shivering and sobbing. Mishka squatted down next to him, and he flinched away as she touched his arm.

  “Jowel? Jowel, listen to me,” said Mishka. “I’ve trapped the creature, but it isn’t going to hold long.”

  “No- no one can, like, escape the Gentleman!” said Jowel, tears streaming down his face. “You can’t run!” A sob escaped his lips. “I thought he was just a story!”

  “Listen to me, Jowel,” said Mishka. “I don’t think he is real, I think he is just a story. Something is somehow manifesting our fears against us. It is trying to scare you to death. But I won’t let that happen, you hear me? I promise, because I’m not going to leave you, and we’re going to work through this together. That thing isn’t real, I need you to hold onto that.”

  Jowel looked up at her with terrified eyes, and shook his head. “I- I can’t-”

  “I understand how terror feels,” said Mishka. “When your limbs feel like ice, when your heart is pounding in your ears, when you just want to curl into a ball and give up. But all of us, all of us have the capacity to overcome that, to refuse to grant that fear power over us, to act, to rise above it, even when we don’t want to. That creature, through there, is being conjured by your fear! But it can’t be here, because it isn’t real.”

  Jowel looked up at her with terror for a moment, before shuddering and shaking his head. There was a roar from down the corridor, and the sound of snapping chains.

  “Jowel, this is important!” said Mishka. “This ‘Gentleman’ doesn’t exist – it’s just a story. And stories can’t hurt you! Think it through!”

  Another roar, more snapping.

  “Jowel! Listen!” shouted Mishka. “Please!”

  “It’s coming! It’s coming!” moaned Jowel. “I can’t-”

  Mishka turned just in time to see the creature blurring towards her. It struck her, sending her smashing into the end of the corridor.

  Jowel screamed again Mishka snarled and pushed herself up-

  To see nothing.

  She crawled forward, her heart falling as she looked over to see the still and terrified face of Jowel. His glassy, unseeing eyes stared straight forward, one last tears tracing the contours of his acne-scarred face.

  “No, no, no, no!” she said, starting a resuscitation spell. His body jerked as his heart was forced to beat and his lungs began to expand and contract under her magic. But nothing happened, and when she placed her hands on his temples she found… nothing.

  “Mishka?” asked Astrid softly from behind her.

  Mishka shook her head. “It doesn’t make sense,” she said. “It’s like- it’s like he’s been dead for weeks, psychically speaking. Or- or that he was never alive, even. I don’t understand.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up,” said Astrid, taking out a handkerchief and dabbing at Mishka’s face.

  Mishka jerked back, startled.

  “Sorry, you- you have a split lip,” said Astrid.

  Mishka put a finger to her mouth, it stung slightly, but she could feel her body already working to heal the damage.

  “Thanks. That thing hit me, so it definitely has some kind of form, of presence…” said Mishka slowly. She rubbed her face. “He called it ‘the Gentleman,’ it was from some kind of story. He was so afraid…”

  “So, what is doing this?” said Astrid. “Some kind of… psychic monster?”

  “Maybe,” said Mishka. “But… but I can’t sense another psychic. If there were one, I should have been able to sense it.”

  “There’s nothing we can do for him,” said Razzarl, who was breathing heavily. “We need to get out.”

  A.N. My is at least four chapters/one month ahead for

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