For Nevermore Season 1

him, knee him in the groin. Kill him. Violent images flashed through her head of all the many things she wanted to do to end his angry riot, his years of abuse.
    Instead, Noella burst into tears.
    Disgusted with herself for allowing Randy to break her and to allow him the pleasure of seeing her in pieces, Noella ran up the stairs, slammed her door, then dived into her bed, screaming into her pillow as her fingers curled into the cotton pillowcase.
    Noella kept screaming, wishing she had unleashed her torment on Randy.
    The sound of crashing glass erupted downstairs and she leapt from bed, imagining the worst — Randy had hurt her aunt.
    She swung her door open, then ran down the hall and descended the stairs just as the front door was slamming shut. Josie opened the front door and called after the storming Randy, “GOOD RIDDANCE! And don’t come back! We don’t need you!”
    Oh crap, he’s gonna flip out!
    Noella cringed as Josie screamed louder, launching into a volley of curses. She was certain Randy was gonna come back and take a swing . . . or worse. He did have a gun, after all.
    Instead, Noella heard the engine in Randy’s patrol car rev before he peeled from the driveway, tires screeching.
    Josie turned around, closed the door, and stared, wide-eyed at Noella, her mouth open as if it might break into either a laugh or cry.
    She smiled, “Oh my God. Did I just do that?”
    “Wow,” Noella said as she went to her aunt and hugged her. “Yes, you did. And thank you.”

    **

    The next morning …

    Noella woke with a splitting headache and the sound of someone pounding on the front door downstairs.
    Loud and frantic, with a maniac’s rhythm.
    Oh God, Randy’s come back! He’s drunk and ready to finish the fight!
    But that didn’t make sense. Randy still had his keys. And he wouldn’t knock. Noella nearly crashed into Josie as they met in the hall, descending the stairs together, confused.
    As they reached the living room, a panicked voice joined the thunder at the door: “Please, it’s Jen from across the street. Please open the door.”
    Josie unlocked the door, then opened it to Jen, who stood in her robe. Her hair was a mess and her eyes and face both burning the same shade of crimson.
    “Have you seen Tori?” she asked, her voice cracking. “She’s gone.”

    * * * *

CHAPTER FOUR

    Dante woke to darkness. He could see little, though he could hear a constant mechanical hum and feel the icy air circulating through the room.
    He was sitting in a chair, his arms bound behind him. He pulled, but the tight binds simply bit into his wrists. Above him, amber light bled through the black, followed by a mechanical whir, as a camera turned its attention to him.
    The room’s technology meant only one thing: Dante had been dragged behind The Dark Wall — into the Queen’s Realm.
    He swallowed, trying to hide his sudden terror from his unseen observers. The room was dark, so it was hard to gain a true grasp of its size. But the camera was at least 15 feet above, so he guessed from the camera’s distance and the echo as he tapped his right boot into the floor, that the room was at least 20x20, or slightly larger.
    Dante tried to remember how he wound up behind The Dark Wall, but couldn’t. He vaguely remembered the raid on the bandit camp, but everything else was still black or a blur. He was groggy. They must’ve drugged him, which explained why he couldn’t cross over. Then he remembered being stabbed, and shot with an arrow, yet felt no pain. He wasn’t sure if he healed on his own or if his captors had healed him.
    Light suddenly flooded the chamber as the door swished open, and a dark shape appeared in the doorway, silhouetted against the bright light in the hallway beyond. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw his visitor, and a chill shot through his body.
    The Queen.
    She held her right hand — the dark metal robotic one — over a dark glass square on the wall. Lights above them flicked on, finally allowing him to see his surroundings — a plain chamber with sleek black walls, and a camera in the left corner above the door. He’d been dead-on about its size.
    The Queen moved forward. It had been years since Dante had seen her, but she was no less curious a creature — half woman, half mechanical, the skin on the left side of her face melding into sleek dark alloy on the right almost seamlessly. Her human eye was bright blue and quite beautiful, while the other was oversized and