#narrator different character between prologue n chapter

[magz]

Untitled (Ring) : chapter 1. Listless and Mindless.

I look out the window of my sister’s car, there were trees whizzing past me and a bright blue sky that calmed my eyes. My sister, a big woman with long blonde hair and a smile on her face, held the wheel with a lot more energy than I’d seen anyone else have while driving. She’d whistle tunes from the car radio, glancing at me every once in a while.

It was so nostalgic. The familiar scene outside, though having changed with the seasons, poked at the childhood memories that kept itching to flood out all at once in my bored mind.

I can still remember when I was younger, the kinds of dreams and aspirations I had, and the moments of day-to-day life that were so normal yet insignificant that I couldn’t help but feel warm inside, sad I had overlooked it all.

My mom’s pot roast that would fill me up so easily, my sister’s penchant for singing early 2000s pop songs, and the big spacious house that kept us all cozy.

I think I had a pretty alright childhood then.

Though it’s hard not to remember the later years too. That of my mom’s voice back then.

“Nonnie, could you be so kind to help me peel the potatoes? Your mom’s getting a little old I’m afraid.” She’d laugh under her breath, a little chuckle to lighten the mood.

It was a good joke, she was too young to even be considered “a little old” even by my childish standards.

I’d peel the potatoes, then chop the onions, carrots, and herbs. At the time, I would make the roasted potato casserole just like she would to ease her worries. I wanted to be good, enough to be able to feel proud of it in front of others.

Her hands would shake with tremors every once in a while, sometimes causing accidents and food to almost fall on the floor. She couldn’t even clip her nails anymore either, I’d try to help with that but she’d refuse. My mom was a proud kind of woman, and she had limits to what she’d let me do for her.

“What does your mom have?” 

“Huh?”

I still remember how people would ask me that. But, I didn’t really know. Maybe arthritis? I wasn’t sure at the time, I wasn’t that knowledgeable and I’d just plain forget it anyways I think.

But...

“What causes people to shake and forget things a lot?”

“My mom can’t hold a fork anymore”

“What do I do if someone I know acts different?”

“How do I help my sick mom?”

I kept filling search bars with my worries and questions. I scoured through forums with people going through the same things as me and my mom.

“It must be alzheimers or… some other ‘degenerative’ thing right?” I wondered to myself.

I wanted my mom to go to the hospital and get checked, but she didn’t want to, even when she was getting worse. 

She’d moan in pain.

“Does alzheimer’s do that?” I’d ask a friend on one of those forums. It was a little fruitless but I had the idea planted in me that I had to get her some help, she could have multiple health issues at the same time! Alzheimer’s alone doesn’t do that! I was much more confused at what it could be.  

My young teen self was very stubborn, I could admit that at least. I badgered her, I would bargain with her, I’d try to pull her along with me but none of it worked.

She’d space off every day, like she was keeping in so much and not telling me anything. She was an expanding water balloon just waiting to pop, her stress filled the air like smoke would a burning building.

“Mom. Mommy, please? Pretty please?”

Her rustled hair, long un-cut nails, tired eyes, splotches of weird skin patches, and shaking body all screamed to me that she needed help but her mouth would tell me “Nonnie, my little baby, please... no. I’m fine.” on those better days where she could still barely do anything, but could still muster up words and pet names for me. She'd just lay there on the floor exasperated and oh-so-very-tired.

I would sob myself to sleep, too. It was an exchange of sorts, she wouldn’t let herself cry, so I would do it instead almost every night as my sister held my hand and held in her own tears. 

Then one day, she was suddenly fine again. Like everything was a dream… a nightmare. 

“Baby, is everything fine? You seem kind of out of it.” She’d express concern of my surprised face and how I accidentally dropped my school backpack on the floor, papers and folders flying out messily. “Is school too stressful, my little Nonnie?”

I hugged her tight that day. The warmness, relief, and confusion still resonating in me each time I remember. 

“Can you believe it?” My sister would motion me to come close to her on the dining room table, talking in a low hushed voice. “It’s like she just… reset from to how she was before.” Her eyes widened. “Try to act like everything is normal and that none of that happened, okay? I… No, it didn’t work out when I tried to ask, so… no. We can’t question miracles.” She informed me.

Screech!

My mind snapped back to the present. Oh.

“We’re here.” My sister declared ethusiasticallly, clutching the steering wheel with one hand after shifting the car’s gears. 

A house straight off the pages of a 90’s home renovator’s magazine welcomed us with it’s picture-perfect landscape and friendly atmosphere. A blue painted house with an arched entry and flat roof, in front there was a white wooden porch that creaked in just the right way. Confidently, I could now say:

“I’m home”

Me and my sister decided to pay my mom a surprise visit and try to cook her some meals just like we used to. She must’ve been lonely from the both of us being away from her, college occupying me and a career a thousand miles away leaving my sister far from our original home. ‘An empty nest is a sad one’ like they say.

Ding Dong!

She didn’t answer the door, she must be sleeping or maybe she’s out of the house at the moment. We didn’t want to be rude but it’s a good thing the spare key is still being hidden under the potted plant on the porch.

My sister gently opened the door, and we were both careful with our footsteps in case it’d wake mom up the wrong way. She’s a grumpy sleeper.

I had an incredulous look while staring back at my sister, starting to doubt that our mom was even here.

“Anya, go check on mom. She’s gotta be in her room. She never goes out on this kind of day you know. She’s still mourning and stuff, it’s always the same each year.” My sister acted like it was so obvious, almost rolling her eyes at how I squinted in disbelief at her.

Just in case, I tried to lighten my steps as I walked to her room, soft creaks melting to the sound of the house’s normal squeaks and bellows. Mom is an easily startled person and the point of today is to make her feel loved and that we’re not just ungrateful, not to make her have a heart attack.

I opened the room’s door.

There she was.

She… My mom. Yeah, that was her without a doubt. But she looked just like those days. Those cursed days I kept thinking of whenever my mind drifted off. But different.

“Ah…. Didn’t I teach you to knock?” My mom’s face was full of scars that weren’t there before, she looked rugged yet… somehow young. “Nonnie, can you keep a secret?” Her index finger’s long nail touched her lips. “Shhh.”

She… had horns. Those long nails were sharp, she had those same markings on her skin, dark on paler skin. The closer she stepped towards me the easier I could see words swimming in those dark splotches on her shoulders. 

Even though her speech seemed intelligible, she was drooling and a mass of someone’s brain was in her hands, and she wasn’t even looking at me. I don’t think she could see, but then how did she know it was me?

Her movements seemed like a puppet on a string, without deliberation.

Had my mom lost her mind? What was she doing?

Unfortunately, this was just the beginning of all this. 

2021 magz draft.

Untitled (Ring) : prologue

I had dreamed of the day I could see your face with tears welling up from happiness. You’d say “Yes, yes! Of course!” while you would cup your hands and cover your mouth to contain your excited squealing. You would look at me as I knelt down before you as I swear to protect you. I would place an oath made of gold and diamonds around your finger. A small grin inching into a full smile on my face, thinking “I can’t believe this day finally came.” 

I know there must be many people around the world thinking something just as pleasant, but I could not imagine anyone quite as lucky as the me proposing to you. My pouring out my affection freely as the many cups of champagne that’d accompany that night.

It’s too bad that I would not be able to see that day. 

It’s me crying instead, for a very different reason today.

A short life with passions cut off early is so sad, but what should I have expected?

I’m prepared to have my final breath taken away. 

“Hello, dear.” She whispers to me a few feet away. 

Her eyes had no light to them, no love. Her skin had curses written on it, moving around like ink on water as if those words that were too tiny to read were alive.

I still loved her, even with her new fangs, sharp claws, and suddenly scathing personality.

The curses had eaten every piece of her soul, every “I love you”, replacing them with a vow of hatred.

“You already know I’m going to kill you.” She stepped closer to my immobile body. “I’m so glad… I’m so happy.” Her voice lilted, yet it felt so hollow.

And with a strike of the circular weapon in her hand, the last “ring” I’d see, I said my prayers and lost my life.

[kwanisms]

To the Sky 01: Min-ah, the Florist

⇢ genre: steampunk au, sky pirates, ateez au, angst, fluff, smut ⇢ pairing: Seonghwa x OC ⇢ warning: alcohol consumption, mention of death, major character death, sexual content, strong language, more warnings in each chapter ⇢ summary: Living in the sky is not always easy, especially with a religious sect policing everything you do. One florist, Bang Min-ah, has always dreamed about life outside Arcadia. Little does she know, she’s about to find out how very different life is when a group of sky pirates accidentally kidnap her. ⇢ word count: 6.4k

✙ series masterlist  ✙ previous || next 

a/n: The prologue was narrated by Min-ah but from now on, everything will be in third person. I will include the days of the week at the top to show passage of time as well as the time in 24 hour format. (If you have a question about the days of the week, I’m using the same one as in Skyrim. When new parts go up, the previous and next links will be at the top and bottom of each part to navigate the 20 parts. I hope you all enjoy this part and as always, feedback is much appreciated! 

“This indicates the character is speaking in Korean.” “This indicates the character is speaking in English.” ‘This indicates the character is thinking.’

January 14, NY263 Loredas, 07:21 Arcadia

The sun filtered through the curtains bathing the room in a soft yellow light as Min-ah awoke. She peered around the room, eyes falling on the dress that hung on her closet door. She let out a groan and rolled over to face the opposite side of the room. ‘It’s a week away,’ she told herself internally. She wasn’t ready. She never thought she would be. She must have had this conversation with herself a hundred times now. ‘You’re going to marry Kim Woojin. There’s nothing to be done about it.’

She opened her eyes to look at the dress that had been laid out for her. ‘Now who would have done that? Surely it can’t have been Mother,’ she thought as she slowly sat up. It was unlike her mother to pick out a dress for her, let alone set it out for her anymore. She hadn't done that in years.

Min-ah pulled back the covers and slipped out of bed, walking over to her vanity. She sat down and let out a yawn before shaking her head and looking at her reflection in the mirror. She chuckled at the unruly mess of hair and started working on taming it.

Half an hour later, she heard a knock at the door. "Come in," Min-ah called. The door opened and the maid came in, giving a small curtsey before walking around the bed.

"Good morning, ma'am," she said softly. Min-ah smiled at her. "Good morning, Sooyun," Min-ah replied, giving herself a final once over in the mirror before standing up and turning to Sooyun. "Has my mother gotten up?" she asked, grimacing when the maid shook her head quietly. Min-ah sighed and stood up straight.

Sooyun helped her strip down and start getting dressed, tying her corset tightly. "Tighter ma'am?" she asked. Min-ah shook her head. "I'm working today, so I think I'd like to breathe today," Min-ah jokingly replied. Sooyun smiled as she knotted the ties and turned to pick up a cream colored blouse.

Min-ah slipped it on, buttoning it up from the base and up the neck. Sooyun picked up the skirt, a dark blue damask pattern and held it open for Min-ah to slip over her head. Min-ah held the skirt in place while Sooyun tightened it in place. Once it was on, Min-ah sat down while Sooyun helped her put on her shoes.

After standing back up, Min-ah looked over herself in the full length mirror, giving her wedding dress a disdainful look before turning to smile at Sooyun. “Thank you, Sooyun,” she said and the maid gave another curtsey before heading for the door. Min-ah called out to her and she turned around. “Has my brother woken up yet?” Min-ah asked. Sooyun shook her head. “I’m not sure ma’am. I haven’t checked on him yet.” Min-ah smiled. “Please do. I’ll head down and start breakfast.”

Sooyun gave another curtsy before opening the door and disappearing down the hall. Min-ah walked around her bed, stopping by the closet to shut the door, hiding the dress from view, ‘I can’t keep looking at it.’ She walked to the door, stepping out into the hall and shutting the door behind her. Min-ah made her way down the stairs to the foyer, stopping to check the pile of mail on the floor at the front door. She sorted the post and headed into the kitchen to begin preparing breakfast. 

About halfway through cooking, Sooyun entered the room, following behind her was Min-ho. He glanced up at Min-ah and gave her a smile. “Morning, sister,” he said as he moved to sit at the counter, watching his sister as she cooked. “Good morning, Min-ho,” she said with a smile as she plated his omelette. Min-ho let out a sigh as she set the plate before him. 

“How did you sleep?” she asked as she continued making food. Min-ho opened his mouth to respond but cut himself off and looked down at his food. Min-ah turned to see what had caused his lapse in response to see their mother had entered the room, looking a little worse for wear. Min-ah stood a little straighter. “Good morning, mother,” she addressed the woman. Her mother waved her hand, dismissing her as she moved to open the liquor cabinet.

Min-ah glanced at Min-ho who kept his head down. Min-ah glanced back at her mother who was busy pouring herself a glass of some brown liquor. She capped the bottle and grabbed the glass, lifting it to her lips and taking a heavy sip. She walked past Min-ho, patting him on the back. “Morning, Min-ki,” she grumbled and it took every ounce of self control she had to keep from biting back at her mother.

Min-ah watched as the woman stumbled out of the kitchen and towards the parlor before turning to look at Min-ho. His expression was unreadable. “Min-ho?” Min-ah started hesitantly. Min-ho silent got to his feet, grabbing his bag and his plate. “I’ll bring this home after work,” he said, feigning a smile before turning and walking out of the kitchen. 

Min-ah heard the door slam in the distance and she threw a dirty glance towards the parlor where she could see her mother lounging in a chaise lounge, sipping on her drink, not a care in the world. Min-ah finished the omelette she was making and plated it before turning the stove off and setting the skillet aside as Sooyun walked in. Min-ah turned to the main, forcing a smile.

She handed the plate to her. “Please give that to Mother for me,” she said. Sooyun took the plate with a nod as Min-ah undid the ties of her apron and removed it, hanging it from the pantry door. “I’m off to the shop. I’ll be gone most of the day,” Min-ah said as she smoothed down her skirt. “I’ve set out your coat, madam,” Sooyun said with a curtsy. Min-ah thanked her and left the kitchen, heading for the front door.

As Min-ah reached the door there was a sharp but loud knock. She opened the door and was surprised to see a young man, maybe a few years older than herself, standing on the front stoop. Min-ah gave him a pleasant smile. “Can I help you?” she asked politely. The man had an aura about it, something Min-ah couldn’t quite place.

He stood several inches taller than she, had light brownish blonde hair. He wore plain clothes, seemingly a member of the middle class though that didn’t matter to her. Min-ah wasn’t of the mind to judge someone based on their social status but rather on their character and manner. The young man before glanced inside the house before fixing her with a stare.

Min-ah waited for him to speak, still smiling politely. When he spoke, he did so in Korean. “I’m looking for Bang Min-hyuk,” he said, his voice deeper than Min-ah expected. He spoke with an accent, one she’d heard before from the lieutenant of the guard. “Is he home?” he continued. Min-ah shook her head. “No, I’m afraid he’s not. I haven’t seen him in some days,” she explained. “He’s probably away on business.”

The young man nodded. “Is there something I can help you with?” Min-ah asked, always eager to be of assistance. The young man gave her a peculiar look. “I’m his daughter,” Min-ah explained, not taking note of the way the stranger’s eyes widened as he looked her over. He shook his head. 

“No. Just, give this to him when you see him next,” he said, handing over an envelope. Min-ah took it and looked down at it before back up at the young man. “Who shall I tell him stopped by?” she asked but the man said nothing, instead turning to make his way down the steps.

Slightly put off by this, Min-ah shook her head, withdrawing back inside and shutting the door. She turned to set the envelope with her father’s mail before grabbing her coat from the rack by the door. Min-ah shrugged into her coat, grabbed the door knob and turned it, opening the door and headed out.

The temperature outside was pleasant as the sun hadn’t risen over the tops of the buildings yet, sun light filtering between the buildings as Min-ah walked from her home. Her parent’s house was located in Blush Gardens, a district on the middle steppes of Arcadia.

Most of her peers lived on higher steppes but Min-ah didn’t mind. Blush Gardens was known for its foliage and was considered by some to be a hidden gem and the most beautiful district in Arcadia. As she made the short trek to the market, Prosperity Plaza, Min-ah noticed many people coming out of their homes to head off for work, children heading off for school.

Upon reaching the market district, Min-ah made her way toward her shop, reaching the door as the sun broke over the tops of the building and starting to cast the square in golden sunlight. Unlocking the door, Min-ah stepped inside her flower shop, shutting the door behind her and locking it. She made her way to the counter, stepping behind it and walking through the door to the back.

Hanging up her coat, Min-ah grabbed her apron, tying it around her waist in a knot and began moving arrangements to the front of the store. On her third pass, she heard a knock at the front door and looked over, eyebrows raised. She set the vases in her hands down and walked over to the door, wiping her hands on her apron, she peered through the glass and rolled her eyes.

Unlocking the door, she opened it, smiling up at the man on the other side. “Woojin,” she said as he smiled down at her. “What are you doing here?” she asked. Woojin held up a paper sack. “The bakery opened early. I know you forget breakfast sometimes,” he said. Min-ah stepped back, allowing him to enter the shop. He stepped over the threshold, leaning down to kiss her cheek.

Min-ah shut the door behind him and locked it. She turned to face him as he walked to the counter. She followed him, stopping when he turned abruptly to hand her a small bouquet of flowers. Min-ah let out a chuckle, taking the flowers from him. ‘Really?’ she thought to herself. “What are these for?” she asked, looking up at her fiance. “I saw them on my way to the bakery and thought of you,” he admitted.

Min-ah took them behind the counter, grabbing an empty vase and started transferring the arrangement to the glass container. “You always say that when you buy me flowers,” Min-ah said as she worked. “Flowers always remind me of you,” Woojin said as he watched her work. “I would hope so,” Min-ah said with a laugh. “I am a florist after all. Flowers are my job,” she reminded him.

“Why are you buying the competition anyway?” Min-ah asked, turning as Woojin opened the bag from the bakery and pulled out a couple bagels. He pulled out a small container of some sort of cream cheese spread and set them on a napkin for her. “I can’t buy your flowers from you to give to you,” he said with a chuckle. “Besides,” he added as she used a small knife to spread cream cheese over her bagel.

“Isn’t it customary to understand your enemy so you can defeat them more easily?” he asked, raising his eyebrow at Min-ah. “They aren’t my enemies,” Min-ah said as she brought the bagel up to her lips to take a bite. “Just competition,” she reminded him. Woojin narrowed his eyes at her playfully. “Is it not more fun to say they’re your enemy?” he asked. Min-ah shook her head. “You’re preposterous,” she said light-heartedly. Woojin watched her take another bite of her bagel.

“Are we still on for tonight?” he asked softly, causing her eyes to shift, fixing her gaze on him. There was something in his tone. She recognized it. 

In the past, Woojin had hinted at wanting to be alone with her for intimacy but Min-ah firmly believed that they should wait until they were married before they went that far. Not that there hadn’t been stolen kisses here and there and maybe some inappropriate touching and of course words; there were always words. She knew how her fiance felt about her but he also knew how she felt about sex before marriage.

She just wasn’t ready.

“Dinner, you mean?” Min-ah asked, hopefully to remind him that she still wanted to wait, even if they were only a week from their wedding. Woojin gave her a soft smile, nodding his head. “Of course,” he said. “Dinner.” Min-ah nodded quietly, taking another bite of her bagel, finishing it off. Woojin pushed the second one towards her but she shook her head. “I’ll be fine,” she said, pushing it back. “You go ahead.”

Woojin placed the bagel back in the sack and closed it. “Save it for later,” he said, watching as Min-ah started from where she left off, setting out the new arrangements. Woojin craned his neck to look through the doorway as she disappeared in the back. “Anything I can do to help?” he asked.

Min-ah peered around the door frame. “Come help me move these arrangements?” she asked. Woojin stood, removing his coat and setting it on the counter. He unbuttoned the end of his sleeves, rolling them up, exposing his forearms as he moved to help Min-ah. With his help, she had moved all the arrangements she’d made last night to the front to put on display. She finished making the price markers and was setting them out when Woojin checked his watch.

“Oh, I’m going to be late,” he said, walking to grab his coat from the counter. Min-ah turned to look at him. “Late for what?” she asked, walking him to the door. Woojin put his coat on as Min-ah unlocked the door. Before she could open it, Woojin pressed his hand against the wood, keeping the door shut with one hand and with the other, he took Min-ah chin in his fingers, tilting her head up to look at him.

Without a word, he pressed his lips to hers. Min-ah had grown accustomed to his boldness and reciprocated, feeling him smile into the kiss. “I’ll swing by to pick you up after my errands tonight,” he whispered before kissing her again. “Wait for me.” When he pulled back, Min-ah looked up at him. “About dinner,” she said but Woojin gave her another short peck before opening the door. “I’ll see you later tonight,” he said before stepping out into the square that had started to fill up with people.

Min-ah sighed as he walked away, disappearing around the corner before she shut the door and returned to her work. She wanted to ask if they could do dinner at his place. She didn’t much feel like bringing him back to whatever state her mother would be in. Min-ah continued setting up the shop before she moved to unlock the door and flip the closed sign to display the open side.

“Thank you for your patronage!” Min-ah called with a wave as the last customer of her lunch rush exited the shop. So far, she had over several dozen orders of bouquets and other arrangements. She was doing well, though she could attribute it to today being the last day of the week. ‘If only the weekdays were so prosperous,’ she thought as she turned her back to the front door.

The ringing of the bell caught her attention and she turned around to see Ahn Jae-hwa, the baker, entering the shop. Min-ah smiled, turning to face him as he looked around before approaching the counter. “Jae-hwa,” she said as he stopped before him, fixing her with a warm smile. “Good afternoon, Min-ah,” he replied. Min-ah always liked Jae-hwa. He was an exceptional baker and not to mention a very kind soul as well. “How can I help you today?” Min-ah asked.

Jae-hwa pulled out a paper from his apron and unfolded it. “I’m catering an event,” he said, handing her the paper. “It’s for a party Han Boreum is throwing. She wants…” he said trailing off as Min-ah took the paper and looked at it. “Whatever that is,” he finished waving his hand at the paper. Min-ah held back a laugh as she read the paper. “This is fairly simple,” she said as she looked up at the baker.

“How many of these arrangements do you need?” she asked, setting the paper on the counter and grabbing her pad of paper and a pen. “Two dozen,” he said, watching as she removed the cap of the pen and began writing down what he needed and how many he needed. As she finished up, Min-ah looked back up at him. “Anything else?” she asked with a smile. Jae-hwa nodded slowly.

Min-ah waited for him to speak but he said nothing. She smiled at him and gave him a pointed look. “Well,” she said with a chuckle. “What is it?” she asked, noticing the way the baker’s cheeks flushed. “I need a bouquet of roses,” he blurted out. ‘Roses?’ Min-ah raised her eyebrows at him before regaining composure. “Alright,” she said, bringing her pen to the paper again. “What kind of roses?” she asked.

Jae-hwa opened and closed his mouth several times as Min-ah glanced up at him. “I don’t know,” he admitted. Min-ah chuckled softly, setting the pen down. “Well, what kind of gesture were you hoping for?” she asked. Jae-hwa stared plainly back at her. Min-ah sighed. “Are you trying to be friendly, sweet, enthusiastic, grateful, thoughtful, or romantic?” Min-ah asked, leaning against the counter top.

Jae-hwa perked up at the mention of romance. “Romantic,” he said, nodding. Min-ah smiled and grabbed her pen, scribbled down a few words. “How many?” she asked. Jae-hwa thought for a moment and said “a dozen.” Min-ah smiled. “Regular dozen or a baker’s dozen?” she asked cheekily. Jae-hwa smiled at her. “Make it thirteen,” he said with a shrug. Min-ah wrote that down. “Alright, thirteen red roses. I have that added to your order,” she said ripping the paper from the pad and moving to ring up his order. “And because you’re a member of the merchant class, I’m going to give you a discount,” she added.

Jae-hwa smiled at her as he watched her work. “So, how are the wedding preparations coming along?” he asked. Min-ah froze momentarily before continuing on. “Well, it’s in a week,” she said, dodging his question. Jae-hwa glanced around to make sure the shop was empty except for the two of them. “Min-ah,” he said in a low tone. “You can tell me,” he added. Min-ah hesitated before looking up at him.

“It’s just us,” he said. Min-ah’s eyes swept the room to confirm that they were indeed alone. She set her pen down and let out a sigh. “The preparations are done, I’m just…” she trailed off, looking down at the paper under her hand. “Nervous?” Jae-hwa asked. Min-ah shook her head. “Scared is more like it,” she admitted. Jae-hwa looked taken aback. “Scared? Why?” he asked, his voice full of confusion but his face full of concern. “I’ve just been wondering if this is the right choice,” Min-ah said in a small voice.

Jae-hwa was silent for a moment before he inhaled deeply. “If you aren’t sure that it’s right, then don’t go through with it,” he said simply. Min-ah let out a dry laugh. “As if it were as simple as that,” she muttered darkly. Jae-hwa leaned over the counter. “But it is,” he replied. “It is that simple, Min-ah. If you aren’t sure you want to marry Woojin, then don’t. Wait until you know for certain. Don’t do something you’ll spend the rest of your life regretting and wishing you hadn’t done.”

Min-ah forced a smile. ‘If only the world worked like that,’ she thought sadly. She finished ringing Jae-hwa up and gave him his total. “Can I pay half now and the other half when I pick up the arrangements?” he asked. Min-ah nodded, moving to start his arrangement of roses. She walked into the back, grabbing her supplies and then back into the sales area to pick out thirteen of her best roses.

“So,” Jae-hwa said, watching her as she worked. “Tomorrow’s the day, isn’t it?” he asked softly and Min-ah froze, her hands shaking slightly before she willed the thoughts away and continued working. “Yes,” she replied in a soft tone. “It is tomorrow.” Jae-hwa must have noticed the shift in her tone. “I’m sorry.” His voice was somber, genuine sympathy laced with his voice. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

Min-ah shook her head, forcing a smile while simultaneously forcing the lump in her throat down. “It’s quite alright,” she replied. “It’s the anniversary. Everyone knows that,” she added, trying to keep her voice even. “I just can’t believe it’s been almost ten years since it happened,” she said. Jae-hwa nodded, keeping an eye on her in case her mood turned south. 

Min-ah moved from behind the counter to grab a small bundle of baby’s breath, clusters of tiny white flowers, to use as an accent. She added them in and started securing the stems carefully. Once she finished, she took his payment, cashing it out and then wrapping the bouquet for him.

“Here you are,” she said, handing him the finished arrangement. Jae-hwa smiled at it and thanked her again. “So,” Min-ah asked, catching his gaze. “What’s that for?” she asked, nodding at the roses. Jae-hwa smiled and shook his head. “Ah, no. If I told you that,” he said, starting to back away towards the door. “I’d have to kill you.” Min-ah laughed out loud as he reached the door.

“While a rolling pin does make a very good weapon,” Min-ah said thoughtfully. “It’s far too obvious. You’d be figured out instantly,” she added. It was Jae-hwa’s turn to laugh. He opened the door, thanking her again and exiting. Min-ah started cleaning up her work space, looking up at the clock on the wall to see the time. It was getting late. She decided to start closing up for the day, knowing Woojin would be there to pick her up within the hour.

As she was misting the flowers, the bell above the door rang, signaling she had another customer. “I’ll be right there!” she called, giving the carnations a few more spritz of water before setting her mister down and wiping her hands on her apron. Min-ah walked through the doorway, into the front part of the store to see a woman looking around at flowers, stopping to inspect the petals of a few. She was dressed from head to toe in black. A high neck, long sleeve black dress, a black fur shawl, and black sunhat.

Min-ah forced a smile, ignoring her heart which was now thundering in her chest anxiously.

Lilith Foxe had come to her shop.

“Ah, Ms. Foxe,” Min-ah said, pleasantly, flexing her English skills as she walked out from behind the counter, catching the woman’s attention. Lilith Foxe was the great-granddaughter of one of the founders of Arcadia and as such, she was a notable member of society. “Miss Bang,” Lilith replied, a small but polite smile resting on her face. “I hope I’m not intruding,” Lilith added. Min-ah shook her head. “Of course not,” she said. “I’m still open for another half hour,” she added.

Deciding to get straight to the point, Min-ah asked “how may I be of service?” Lilith looked around at the flowers. “I need flowers for a grave,” she said softly. Min-ah said nothing but nodded before moving to show her a couple arrangements she made the night before. Lilith looked over them carefully. “These are lovely but do you have anything in black?” she asked. ‘This woman and her damn black!’ Min-ah smiled.

“I have some lilies,” she said beckoning Lilith over as she walked around the counter and down one of the rows. Lilith followed behind her. Min-ah pointed out the flowers she had in mind. A calla lily in a deep burgundy. “Is this the darkest you have?” Lilith asked, inspecting the flower. Min-ah nodded. “No flower is truly black,” she said as Lilith looked over the lilies again. “Dark purple is the closest you can get to black.” Lilith stood straight before nodding. “I’ll take them,” she said. Min-ah smiled and picked out a few of the flowers, leading her patron to the counter to ring her up and arrange the lilies.

After cashing her out, Min-ah worked fast and carefully to secure the lilies together. She wrapped them and handed her work to Lilith who looked pleased with her purchase. “Thank you,” she said. She reached into her purse and pulled out a small pouch. She handed it to Min-ah. “For your time,” she said. Min-ah hesitantly held out her hand and allowed Lilith to deposit the bag into her hand. “Thank you, ma’am,” she said softly. Lilith turned and headed for the door, sweeping out into the dying light without another word. Min-ah untied the pouch and looked inside. She had received a rather generous tip.

‘What an odd woman.’

Half an hour later, Min-ah was sweeping dirt and other debris out the back door when she heard a knock at the front. She set the broom down, leaning it against the wall before she headed to answer it. Woojin smiled as she let him in. “You ready?” he asked, leaning down to kiss her cheek. Min-ah nodded, returning the gesture. “Let me just finish sweeping and I’ll grab my things,” she said, rushing back to her broom. Woojin followed behind, stopping to lean against the door frame behind her and watch as she swept the dirt out onto the back patio. Behind her shop, in the rather large fenced yard was her garden.

Min-ah finished sweeping and shut the door, locking it and hanging up her broom. She moved to grab her coat, forgetting her apron still tied around her waist. Woojin let out a chuckle and moved to stand behind her. “Here,” he said softly, his hands moving to untie the apron. He pulled it from her and hung it up next to her other aprons. Min-ah let out a breathless thank you and pulled her coat on, making sure her keys were in her pocket. 

Min-ah followed Woojin through the shop, letting him out first. She turned the open sign around, indicating she was closed and shut the door behind her as she followed her fiance out. She locked the door and made sure it was secure before turning to Woojin who offered her his arm. “Shall we?” he asked. Min-ah nodded, taking his arm and following his lead as he started off through the market.

“Could we have dinner at your place tonight?” Min-ah asked suddenly, looking up at Woojin who looked at her with wide eyes. “At my place?” he asked, making sure he heard her right. She nodded. “My mother has been drinking all day,” Min-ah said softly and Woojin understood immediately. “Of course,” he said with a smile. “What about your brother?” he asked. “Sooyun will no doubt make him something,” she said softly. Woojin nodded and started in the direction of his place.

The walk took no time at all as they walked through the darkening streets. The lamp lighters were out, lighting the lamp posts as they continued on, their conversation light as they went. ‘I just don’t understand why your father didn’t pick a house in Lion Terrace,” he said, shaking his head. Min-ah shrugged. They’d had this conversation before. 

She lived in Blush Gardens, a lower district than Lion Terrace or Castle Hill but Min-ah didn’t mind. She was close to the market and her family had a very beautiful home. “It’s not that bad, Woojin,” Min-ah said as they rounded the corner and his manor came into view. “Still, I’d prefer if you moved in with me. I’d feel much better knowing you were safer here,” he said. Min-ah let out a sigh.

“It’s too premature,” she said, reminding him. Woojin approached the gate and opened it, allowing her in first. “We’re going to be married in a week, Min-ah. I don’t think anyone would object to it,” he said as he shut the gate behind him, locking it and heading up the stairs to the front door, guiding Min-ah with a supportive hand on her back. “I have plenty of rooms for you to stay in before we’re married.”

He opened the door, letting her in, following behind and shutting the door. They were greeted by his butler. “Have Eun-ja start dinner as soon as possible, Dong-hyung,” Woojin said to him. The butler nodded before taking Woojin’s coat. Min-ah felt Woojin’s hands on her shoulders to help her out of her coat and she allowed him to slip it off and handed that to Dong-hyung who then headed to put them away and no doubt have dinner started. Woojin gestured for Min-ah to start up the steps.

He led her to a room to wash up for dinner, leaving her to do so, shutting the door behind him. Min-ah looked into the mirror before her and sighed before looking down at the basin with water in it. She undid the buttons of her sleeves, pulling them back to wash her hands of any remaining traces of dirt from her activities of the day. Jae-hwa’s words repeated in her head.

‘If you aren’t sure you want to marry Woojin, then don’t. Wait until you know for certain.’ Min-ah looked back up at her reflection. Did she want to marry Woojin? Was she certain she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him? Min-ah grimaced. The honest truth was no but what choice did she really have? Her father and mother expected her to get married. 

In every aspect, Woojin was the perfect suitor. He was a rich man of status, handsome, polite, caring, and intelligent. There was a reason other women were jealous of Min-ah for her engagement. Woojin was the perfect gentleman. Min-ah should be ecstatic to be marrying such a fine man of society.

Only she wasn’t.

Sure, Woojin had been nothing but kind and generous towards her since they met but something was missing. Something Min-ah couldn’t put her finger on but it gave her serious doubts about her potential happiness with the man she was due to marry in a week. She wasn’t sure if she could go through with it. What would they say if she canceled the wedding now? Min-ah was interrupted from her thoughts by a sharp knocking on the door. She dried her hands quickly, rolling her sleeves back down and fastening the buttons. She turned to open the door and was met with Woojin’s smile. “All done?” he asked.

Min-ah nodded, stepping out of the room and heading downstairs, Woojin just behind her. The two of them entered the dining room where Woojin pulled Min-ah’s chair out for her before taking a seat next to her. The food was brought out to them, Min-ah thanking one of the servants before digging in.

She’d missed lunch and was ravenous. Woojin smiled as she ate, taking his time with his own food. “You’re always so kind to everyone,” he noted. Min-ah glanced up at him. She gave him a smile and returned to her food as he started telling her about his day. “I saw your brother at the bank,” Woojin said as he set his utensil’s down. Min-ah looked up at him, her fork in mid air as she was about to take a bite.

“You did?” she asked. Woojin nodded. “I did. I had business there today. He looked stressed,” he said. Min-ah set her fork down and sat back in her chair. ‘What has him so stressed?’ she wondered. “I’m sure it was just work,” Woojin said reassuringly. Min-ah nodded, staring at the wooden surface of the table. She didn’t hear Woojin push his chair out and get to his feet. He slowly made his way around the table, pulling out a chair next to Min-ah who looked up at him as he took a seat beside her.

“Are you finished?” he asked, nodding at her plate. Min-ah nodded and the plate was whisked away without a word. Trying to lighten the mood, she looked up at Woojin. “So, what kind of business did you have at the bank?” she asked. Woojin smiled. “I needed to pull out some money,” he said casually. Min-ah tilted her head to the side quizzically. “What for?” she asked. Woojin smiled before getting up from the table and walking over to the door. “I’ll be right back,” he said, disappearing from sight.

Min-ah sat still for a moment, waiting for him to return. A few moments later, he did, a small white gift bag in hand. He returned to sit beside her, setting the bag on the table before Min-ah. She stared at it for a moment before turning to give Woojin a bewildered look. “Open it,” he said with a chuckle. Min-ah shifted forward in her chair and started opening the bag.

She pulled the tissue paper out, setting it aside and peered inside the bag. Inside was a small square box coated in black velvet. Min-ah pulled it out and inspected it. It was flat and rectangular. She glanced up at Woojin who was watching her carefully. Min-ah threw another glance at her fiance before opening the box revealing a beautiful dainty silver chain. At the middle of it was a small charm. A small sterling silver loop with a tiny rose quartz bead in the middle, suspended. Min-ah stared in awe at the necklace.

She glanced up at Woojin, her lips parted in shock. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered. Woojin stood and took the necklace from her, walking around behind her to put the necklace on her. Once the chain was clasped together, Min-ah reached up, her fingertips brushing the delicate charm. She felt Woojin’s hands linger on her shoulders, gently massaging. “Do you like it?” he asked uncertain. Min-ah turned to look up at him. “It’s beautiful. I love it,” she said with a smile.

Woojin leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to her lips before pulling back as the chiming of a clock sounded from deep within the house. Woojin pulled his watch out and checked it. “It’s getting late,” he said, tucking the watch back in his pocket. “I need to get you home,” he said, helping Min-ah with her chair as she stood. 

Woojin led her out of the dining room and into the foyer before going to retrieve their coats. Once Min-ah was in her coat, he led her out of the house and down the front steps, unlocking the gate and escorting her back to her home in Blush Gardens. Night had fallen, with only the lamps and the light of the moon to illuminate their path. The walk took much shorter than Min-ah expected.

Soon, they were stopping outside the front door of her family’s home. Woojin pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Go on in,” he said, caressing her cheek and watching as she unlocked the door and stepped into the warm foyer of her own home. Min-ah gave him a wave as he headed down the steps and up the street, disappearing into the dark. She turned to find her father peering into the hall from the kitchen.

“Oh,” Min-ah said with a smile. “Good evening, Father,” she said, walking to greet him. Her father pulled her into a hug, a smile on his own face. “Daughter,” he said, giving her a once over. “And where are you been?” he asked. “I had dinner with Woojin,” Min-ah said, noticing the bright smile that overtook her father’s features. “Ah, good,” he said before patting her shoulder. “Well, it’s getting late,” he said.

“Go on and get ready for bed,” he said, his words interrupted by the annoying tone of his wife, slurring her words as she stumbled into the hall from the kitchen, the brown liquor in what was probably her twentieth glass of the day sloshing around and spilling onto the hardwood floors. “You’ve been at our son-in-laws?” she asked, her tone a bit louder than necessary. Min-ah forced a pleasant smile.

“That’s right, Mother,” she said before starting to turn away. “Don’t turn away from me,” her mother said but her father intervened. He turned to give her a look. “Go on upstairs. I’ll take care of your mother,” he said reassuringly. Min-ah nodded and turned away from her parents. She headed for the stairs, taking them up to the third floor. Min-ah entered her room, shutting the door and starting to strip.

She had just removed her coat when there was a knock at the door. Sooyun entered, curtseying before hurrying over to help Min-ah remove her dress and corset. “How much has she had to drink today, Sooyun?” Min-ah asked. “More drinks than I could count, ma’am,” she said softly. Min-ah heard the front door open followed by silence as Sooyun helped her into her nightgown. She grabbed a robe and walked to the door, cracking it open and peering out the crack.

She could hear her mother’s high pitched tones as she spoke in a babying tone. “Min-ki,” she cooed. ‘Min-ho,’ Min-ah thought and in an instant, she threw open her door as Min-ho was making his way upstairs. He glanced at her and gave her a faint smile. Min-ah returned it as arguing escalated between her parents. Min-ah returned to her room, bidding Sooyun a goodnight and quietly, she got into bed.

A few moments later, everything grew quiet outside Min-ah’s room, allowing her mind to finally wander. She extinguished the light beside her on the bedside table, throwing the room in darkness. Settling back into the covers, it didn’t take long for Min-ah to drift off to sleep, forgetting momentarily what tomorrow brought with it.

previous || next

[ayearofpike]

The Cold One

Tom Doherty Associates, 1995 394 pages, 38 chapters + epilogue & 12-page prologue ISBN 0-812-51245-6 LOC: PS3566.I486 C65 1995 OCLC: 31289835 Released December 28, 1994 (per B&N) Mass printing December 15, 1995 (per B&N)

The Cold One is no longer under guidance from its external voice. Without this incessant instruction, it does not know what comes next anymore. All it knows is that its destiny is to destroy humanity — an outcome that it has no feelings or concerns about whatsoever. What exactly is this creature? Where did it come from? How will it carry out its inevitable mission? We're going to have to read about a whole bunch of other people, and how the Cold One connects to them, to find out.

Oof. This book is a monster, which is part of why it's taken me over a week to write a new post. (The other part is, you know, stuff.) There's a lot going on, and even though a lot of it ties back to stuff Pike's written before, this is a new story with new uses for the same elements. In that vein, I was surprised to find that I didn't remember a single word or a single plot point out of this story — which allowed me to no doubt be freshly disappointed by the rushed ending.

I mentioned that there are a bunch of characters. For the first time in a while, Pike's writing from multiple viewpoints again, which makes me unsure how to best approach this summary. It probably makes the most sense to just begin at the beginning and describe the people and their doings as they appear in the narrative. It won’t be the fastest way to cover this book, but let’s be real: that’s not what I’m here for.

That prologue? It's two prologues, actually. We start with Penny Hampton, a rehab nurse at a hospice facility who works on unresponsive patients so that they don't totally atrophy while comatose. She's creeped out by one particular patient who has been there since before anybody can remember, and this is justified when the power goes out and she gets her breath taken away — literally — while manually respirating her. Worse is when the patient uses her first living breath in years to speak: just two words, one of which Pike doesn't tell us right now because it would give too much away I guess. Oh, and this is the last time we hear directly from Penny, which is a little bit of a rip, especially toward the end. We'll get there.

The second prologue is from the perspective of the Cold One Itself. You read that right — whenever It narrates, Its preferred personal pronoun is It, capital I. (Which might make my writing awkward in this entry as I attempt to avoid using "it" for other things.) We discover that It has been guided by a voice (or as It says, a "Voice") that has just stopped, and now It has awakened into Itself somewhere in Baja California. It no longer knows what comes next, but It knows that ultimately It will be responsible for the death of humanity. And It decides to start with the dude that picks It up hitchhiking. I'm not totally sure this was necessary as a prologue; I think it would have been just fine as Chapter One, seeing as it ties into the continuation of the story. We get plenty more chapters from the Cold One's POV, so it wouldn't have felt particularly out of place to have this start the story proper.

But how we launch is in a dream, inside the brain of journalist and educator Peter Jacobs. He's fishing with an old and dear friend, a beautiful girl who catches a creepy sea monster and then tries to undo his pants, but he's woken by the ringing phone. On the other end is a creepazoid who implies that he knows something about the mysterious and gruesome death of a young woman two weeks before. He hangs up before Peter can get any specifics out of him, but it feels weirdly like an extension of the dream. He does manage to record most of the conversation, to go over at work.

We learn a little more about Peter here as he prepares for his day: how his roommate is a mentally handicapped friend with whom he's grown up in foster care, how his job is writing a nationally-syndicated column that promotes good news in a somewhat cynical voice, how he had a girlfriend who got pregnant and had a miscarriage and left him with no explanation just that fast. None of this is covered in much depth here, which is OK because it allows us to fill in the blanks and then be surprised when Pike fills them in later on. 

Peter plays the tape for his editor, who wants him to go to the police. As it happens, the police are investigating another unusual death, and ask him to come to the scene. The MO is totally different — a dude smothered and then stabbed in the heart — but it's linked to the other girl by a similar fingerprint. In fact, there have been half a dozen killings split between these two methods that are tied by the same print. I'm not sure why these cops are so eager to tell Peter about it, if he's a journalist, even though he's said he's not going to write about the deaths. Convenient storytelling, I guess.

Our next character is Jerry Washington, a high-school dropout and South Central gang member who is trying to get out of the game. The big man won’t let him leave, though — in fact, we meet Jerry as he's carrying out a hit on a rival gang leader. This whole part is kind of hyper-violent and unnecessary, but you know, adult fiction. And again, I could do without Pike writing minorities in LA who belong to inner-city gangs as the only native non-whites in his story. Ultimately, Jerry blackmails his boss into letting him walk and takes off for Malibu, where he meets a hot young thing who is up for a little danger and intrigue. This is Susan Darly, and she and Jerry quickly fall in love/like/lust and become each other’s world, like you do in a teenage relationship. But one day, as they're bodysurfing, Susan doesn't come back up, and Jerry can't find her. Eventually he does — on the beach down the opposite end of the current, a way she'd never have been pulled naturally, being respirated by a long-haired woman. And Susan, who wasn't breathing at all, starts again, thank goodness. OR SHOULD WE

Now we meet Julie Moore, a psychology doctorate student who is studying the meaning of near-death experiences. She speaks with an older woman who's had one, and is totally spooked by the clarity and authority the woman evokes in talking about crossing over and reviewing her life as opposed to the more familiar way she speaks on mundane matters. (Everything-old-is-new-again point: the timeline of life as a single viewable document, used in Eternal Enemy and Remember Me 2.) Julie is also spooked when the woman says she has a message specifically for her, about not fearing the end of life. It's so creepy that she leaves the hospital room without asking all of her questions.

As it turns out, there's a doctor in the hospital at the same time who has done a vast amount of research on near-death experiences, and Julie wants to pick his brain. Dr. Lawrence Morray is less than amenable to this at the present moment, but he does invite her to look him up later, at which time he may share his research. So Julie goes home, has a shower, and then has to fend off a home intruder who turns out to be her ex-boyfriend being grossly intrusive. He's supposed to be a creep, so we won't feel bad later when he gets mutilated and killed. Spoilers! But for now he just walks out and leaves a mess.

Meanwhile, Dr. Morray has a late-night appointment assessing the need for heart surgery on one of his patients. They schedule the procedure, and then he goes home to his wife Sara, to whom he feels unusually connected and compelled, if not actually in love. She mentions a young girl almost drowning on the beach and then offers to make dinner for them, and while she does Dr. Morray goes into his office (which is actually a lab) and stares at a wall safe that exhibits signs of life even though he hasn't put anything in there for two months.

We whip back to the Cold One, who considers killing a child to observe its mother's reaction, and then succumbs to a street preacher's saving throw or whatever in an attempt to feel something. (I guess I should mention, too, that outwardly the Cold One looks like an attractive woman, and It seems to know how to interact with unturned humans so as to avoid arousing suspicion that It is not.) Neither of these things has an effect on It (and It actually decides against killing the kid to avoid making a scene), and so It goes to find the man who gave It a ride north and give him a job. It has successfully turned him into ... well, not another Cold One, but certainly an unfeeling monster with inhuman strength and a craving for flesh and blood. It calls the monsters who survive Its turning "bastards" and acknowledges that they will have to be destroyed before It can successfully take the necessary step toward creating the true downfall of humankind.

Back to Peter: he's gotten another call from the creepy guy, who asks to meet him at the museum of natural history. The cops wire him up and set him loose, hoping to catch the monster. At the same time, Julie calls Dr. Morrow’s house and gets Sara, who invites her to drop by that evening. She waits outside for him, and when his car pulls into the garage and immediately back out, she follows it. To the museum, happy accident. But it's not he who gets out — it's Sara, there to work on a drawing. Julie decides to go after her anyway, thinking she might be more accommodating than her husband. But when Peter sees her and starts talking her up, Julie hangs back, intimidated but also somehow instantly attracted to him. She does corner him as he's leaving, and they go for coffee together, and they're more honest with each other about themselves than they've been to anybody else in LA. So we're pretty sure they're going to see each other again.

Jerry, meanwhile, hasn't seen Susan since that day on the beach, when her parents panicked that he was black and kicked him out of the hospital. He tracks her down at her school, but she's so dark and empty and ... well, cold, that he freaks out and bails, straight to the hospital, where he tries to get more information about how she was treated. The doctor who saw her volunteers that she checked out earlier than he would have liked, and that if Jerry wants a more thorough psychological assessment he might consider contacting Julie. After all, Susan did nearly die, and Julie is the expert on such matters.

Right now, though, she's on a date with Peter, which ends up back at his place. She’s totally sprung on him, and Peter likes her just fine, but he can’t stop thinking about Sara even as they’re making out and getting hot and heavy. His roommate walks in and interrupts them half-undressed, which kills the mood, and so Peter goes to check his messages. There’s one from the police detective, letting him know that there’s been another killing — and what ho, it’s Susan Darly’s ex-boyfriend. They’re holding Jerry on suspicion after his storming of the school, though he insists that it was Susan.

Peter realizes that Julie’s mentioned Jerry this evening — he left a message on her machine, worried about Susan. They go back to her apartment and listen to the message, and it doesn’t jibe with what the detective told him. Here they become more honest: Peter tells Julie the truth about his sting operation trying to unearth the mystery killer, and Juile tells the truth about having followed Sara Morray and who she is. Peter wants to talk to Sara himself, and Julie doesn’t really like this but she gives him the number. It’s weird how hard she’s fallen after two dates, right? But Julie insists that there’s something special about Peter, even though Peter thinks of himself as pretty cold and emotionless. Still, he does stay at her place overnight, because desire ≠ love.

The Cold One doesn’t really understand either of these things, but It is checking them out with the street preacher. It has picked up enough cues that he desires It, and so It decides It will try for some kind of feelings or emotions by making sex with him. But then he comes too fast and so It rips his ribs out. No, seriously, It is still trying to figure out whether It can have attachments or feel loss, and figures that if It truly loves the preacher then It will mourn his death. Even if It is responsible. But no — It feels no shame or pain at ruining this man, and walks out to leave him dying painfully on the floor.

*  *  *

And now we jump to a whole new section, to a whole new continent, to a whole new narrator, who I can’t really figure out why he actually belongs in this story. Surely there could have been a more elegant way to describe the ancient demon that awakens from induced slumber to teach the people of Los Angeles where they have come from and how to reach their desired end. Instead, we get him followed by Govinda Sharma, a dam engineer who has forsaken his religion and returned to India after the senseless death of his pregnant-to-term wife and their unborn child. But like ... at least it’s a brown person who isn’t a gangbanger.

Govinda has rediscovered religion, in a way: his company’s runner has introduced him to a Master, a young Jesus-looking mystic who helps him find peace through meditation and specific breathing techniques. It’s making Govinda feel better than he has since burying his wife. So he doesn’t really think twice when the Master summons him with a job: follow Rak, the immortal monster who has awakened and is leaving his cave for the first time in five thousand years.

Rak was accomplished in a technique called Seedling, which uses the sexual chakra of the body to bring about unquestioning obedience in potential followers. Have I mentioned Seedling before? Pike brought it up in some of his other stories, where it was important that someone be hypnotized and acting against their pattern but not necessarily their will. Most specifically, Helen used it in The Immortal. Certain people are born with an ability to tap into it (typically the leaders we see as charismatic and dangerous), but Rak could inflict it without any concern. This ultimately made Rak so dangerous that Krishna (remember him? Sita’s buddy?) had to overpower him with a mystical weapon analogous to an atomic bomb, which blinded him, killed most of his followers, and knocked him out for millennia. But he’s awake now, so obviously is a totally safe person for Govinda to go after.

He doesn’t go alone: he brings the runner and his younger brother with him, so that they can watch Rak in shifts and make sure he doesn’t lose them. But one night they all accidentally fall asleep, and wake up with a cobra sitting on the youngest one’s chest. Govinda tries to get the kid to sit still while he finds a stick to knock the snake away, but the kid panics and grabs at it and it bites him in the hand and the kid dies within moments. I’m not totally sure that’s how cobra venom works? But obviously Govinda isn’t going to sacrifice another child to this jungle — or to Rak’s black magic, sending a snake after them, which is what it feels like here. So he sends the other brother to get help and follows Rak all the way to the Delhi airport, where they both get tickets on the next flight to Los Angeles.

*  *  * 

Back to Juile: she meets Jerry in a coffee shop to talk about Susan. His description is not really precise enough for Julie to figure out what’s wrong, but he doesn’t want the two of them to meet, knowing that something bad will happen to Juile if they do. So he takes off, and then Julie calls her dissertation chair to talk about the issue — and about Peter, who hasn’t called since they did it three days ago. The chair thinks she should call him, and also try to get in touch with Dr. Morray about his research. As doctoral students do, she puts work first — but Dr. Morray is curt and brusque, upset as he is about some journalist in his house.

Yep: Peter called Sara and they’re flirting with each other. She says that she and her husband don’t actually talk; that she didn’t even know about his all-consuming research of years prior until Julie called to see if she could come over. She’s an artist, and she shows Peter her paintings, and this is where Dr. Morray comes in and gets all upset. So she walks Peter out and kisses him goodbye, and like ... gross? Am I a prude to want someone to be faithful and true, close out a relationship before starting another one? This whole thing really annoyed me — and I get it, with Peter and Sara being who they are (we’ll get there), but I don’t have to like it.

We’re back with Jerry as he walks up to Susan’s house. She’s creepy and gross, worse than she was at school, and she won’t give straight answers. No, that’s not it — she gives NOTHING but straight answers, and they’re not answers that make Jerry feel better about how she’s acting. It turns out that when she didn’t get out of the water, it wasn’t an accident: she was PULLED under by the woman who respirated her, and ever since she’s wanted to eat dudes. And yep, she killed her ex-boyfriend, and then she killed her parents, and now she’s going to kill Jerry. His gun does no good; she kicks his hand INTO THE WALL before he can fire it, and then starts to take his pants off with lust in her eyes and blood in her mouth. And this is the last we hear from poor Jerry.

Peter now gets home, and guess who’s there? Julie is showing the roommate some things that Peter knows are IQ tests and mind exercises, and he doesn’t really like this. Which ... I don’t really get Peter’s objection to his slow roommate, whose IQ has been pegged at 60, getting some help from a caring and thoughtful friend. I understand that he doesn’t want his friend to feel ostracized or bad about himself, but this is a sweet and thoughtful woman who has been nothing but good to Peter and his friend. Maybe let her talk to him, work with him, help him step up?

So they talk, Peter apologizes, Julie goes home, and then the creep calls, but Peter isn’t scared this time and doesn’t alert the police. Weird? Instead, he calls the newspaper with a pitch on a possible story: that Dr. Lawrence Morray is somehow connected to the creepy murders. He asks his editor to dig around for information on Dr. and Mrs. Morray — and learns that she is not the doctor’s first wife, as Sara has intimated. Definitely more to investigate.

Meanwhile, Rak and Govinda have landed at LAX. Rak is still in a loincloth, but somehow hypnotizes a college basketball player into giving him a spare set of clothes. Then they take off, walking God knows where. Govinda is careful to keep his distance as they walk from the airport to the beach and then north to Malibu. Yeah, walk — Google Maps says 20 miles. This is a long-ass walk for a thirty-year-old desk jockey, and by the end of it he’s almost hoping for his own snake.

Peter’s story chase has taken him to San Francisco, to the apartment of Dr. Morray’s sister, who has nothing but lovely and wonderful things to say about Larry’s wife. His first wife, that is — they don’t really talk anymore, and so she doesn’t know much about Sara. But Sandy’s death was so tragic, the way she fell off the boat they were using in Mexico and drowned. Peter didn’t know that Dr. Morray was there when she died, and this is suspicious to both him and the editor. He decides to fly to Cedar Rapids, Iowa, to try to meet with a mutual friend of Larry’s and Sandy’s, at the behest of the editor who won’t really tell him why yet.

Julie’s got her own investigation to follow. She hasn’t been able to get in touch with Jerry (wonder why) and so goes to Susan’s house, where she gets the same cold and icky vibe, along with the stench of blood and decay after, what, a week or two of parent and boyfriend carcasses rotting in the house. Julie is smart enough not to go all the way in, and runs away home at her first opportunity, where there’s a message from Sara Morray on her machine. It seems that Sara is intrigued by Julie’s research, and by her husband’s, and since she can’t get him to talk about it she might as well ask the grad student (because that’s all we can talk about, is our research).

Peter makes it all the way to Iowa (nonstop and first-class from SFO to CID, which does not now exist) before he learns just why his editor was so eager for him to be out there. It seems that there is no death certificate for Sandra Morrow, and the journalist’s investigative digging instinct led the editor to learn that she is being kept alive by machines at a clinic an hour out of town. (I’m hoping to learn a little more about Iowa in the comments ... specifically why Peter wouldn’t have been better served just flying to Des Moines. This is your moment, @mildhorror​.) So he goes and poses as Sandra Morrow’s son, and ends up talking with: you got it, Penny Hampton. Remember her? She tells Peter the two words that came out of Sandy’s mouth just weeks ago: child, cold. She also tells him that she’s had asthma since trying to respirate his “mother,” and as repulsed as she is by Sandy she now feels compelled to keep her alive. As though her death will mean Penny’s to come.

There’s a whole chapter about Dr. Morray carrying out his cardiac procedure with the patient from earlier. The guy says he hears music as he’s going under, which ties into Larry’s research about near-death experiences. Ominous? Probably, considering he miscalculates with the balloon angioplasty and ruptures the inferior thyroid vein and kills the dude. He gets home all pissed off to find Julie administering a Rorschach test to Sara, which Dr. Morray thinks is a waste of time. And Julie kind of hopes so, because Sara is freaking her out with non-standard and sociopathic responses. Sara asks Julie not to tell Peter, and before Julie can think too much about this she has to excuse herself and get the hell out. But before she can get too far, Rak steps in front of her car and asks what she was doing in the doctor’s house. Without even thinking about who this giant blind Indian might be or what he is to them, Julie sort of word-vomits all over him and then asks how he knows the Morrays and what he thinks of them, specifically Sara.

“She cold.”

Back in ... I don’t know, Muscatine? Peter is trying to throw his weight around to get Sandra Morrow’s records. He has to call in a favor with his police officer friend, and then it’s partly in Spanish (remember, Mexico) and all in doctor handwriting, but he determines that yes, she drowned thirty years ago and has been on the machines here ever since. But there is a little oddity: she was pregnant when she was admitted to the facility, and she carried to term and delivered nine months to the day after her accident. So now Peter wants to track down the baby and see if that gives him any more info.

Dr. Morray, it turns out, actually was kind of freaked out by the inkblot test, especially since Sara was not blind to Julie’s reaction and now thinks she’s empty. So he goes back to work, of course, and who should show up but Rak. He tells the doctor a story of a young man who would dive to the bottom of a lake using reeds to breathe, and when the other kids got jealous and stole his reeds — his breath — he didn’t die but couldn’t rejoin humanity. Obviously Larry doesn’t know what this means yet, but Rak doesn’t have time to spell it out for him.

In the meantime, the Cold One has figured out what It needs to do to take the next step in monster making. It tells Its bastards to sacrifice themselves making a gory mess in a mall, and then decides to eliminate Julie Moore as she is too close to Peter Jacobs. This bit here feels like it gives away too much too soon, but again, I’m still enjoying the story as it doesn’t totally spell out what’s happening and I can piece it together. So the Cold One goes to Julie’s apartment and finds her ex and his lawyer there waiting for her. And It figures, why the hell does It have to hang around to kill Julie when It could just turn these two into bastards and make them do it? Efficiency!

Obviously Peter hasn’t been able to get the adoption agency to give up its files — he has to call in another favor with his cop buddy. But he learns that there was a girl, adopted by a family, where both parents died and the brother (also adopted) was in a mental institution, but the dad’s sister still lives in Iowa City. He kisses Sandra Morray goodbye before he leaves ... why? Peter doesn’t know, but maybe there’s something to Penny’s previously stated connection with her. And then he goes to the sister’s house, where he learns that the daughter was always kind of off and freaky, even when she was adopted at five days old, even though she was a wonderful artist. The brother had asthma and anxiety and willingly chose to go to the institution when he was 18, and then when the girl was a few months shy of high school graduation both her parents died and she took off for California. Peter doesn’t want to, but he asks if the woman has a picture — and sure enough, this weird artist girl is Sara Morray. Ew, she married her dad!

And now we’re suddenly in the perspective of the police detective, because Pike just can’t fuckin’ help himself. This is another too-gory chapter that serves no purpose except to kill off the bastards and I guess make the book more adult. It seems that there is a group of weirdos literally tearing people apart in the mall, and the detective is needed on the scene. When he gets there, the monsters are barricaded in the sporting goods store, and there’s a trail of gore and viscera leading up to it. Fortunately, there are only two left, but unfortunately they have unlimited hunting ammunition, or however much the store has in stock, which is enough. The detective decides to go in through the air duct, and he manages to take down one of the creatures with a lucky head shot, but the other one blasts him in the shoulder with her shotgun. Yeah, her. Of course it’s Susan Darly, the last monster alive, cold and eager to keep killing. But the detective empties his revolver into her, and finally she stops moving. And that is the end of the mysterious monster killings storyline. Seriously, we never see the detective again.

But now Julie shows up at her place, and her ex is there, and he is determined to get in one last lay before he kills her. I told you this asshole was a gross monster who we wouldn’t be sad to see die. And boy does Julie kill him. She stabs him in the neck with a letter opener, she drops a ten-gallon fishtank on his dick, she hits him in the face with a body powder he’d been allergic to when they were dating, and then she drops a TV on his head, which (back in the day when TVs were heavy as shit) crushes his skull. And then the phone rings, and it’s Sara Morray, and she wants Julie to come over and talk. Obviously, Julie doesn’t want to, but she feels like she HAS to. Seedling!

And also now Peter has gotten an audience with the doctor who was Larry and Sandy’s mutual friend, the reason that Sandra Morray is vegetating in Iowa rather than somewhere closer to her husband. It seems that this guy dated her first, but Larry stole her away and they got married really fast. He’s tried to be happy for them, because she obviously loved him back, but he also knew that Larry had a temper, and in fact he’s pretty sure that’s how the accident happened. That Larry hit Sandy because she was pregnant and refused to get rid of it, and that she got knocked overboard and nearly died. Larry managed to keep her alive until they got to shore and medicine, but there was no way she would ever wake up. Old love and anger bade this doctor to take over Sandy’s care, but because he’s not the legal guardian he couldn’t just end her life, which is why she’s still on machines after thirty years. He did deliver the babies, though, and wants to know what Peter knows about them.

Babies. Plural. Twins. A boy and a girl.

We remember that Peter’s a foster kid. He certainly remembers that. And I don’t begrudge him leaping to conclusions here, considering everything he’s been through with Sara and Sandra and the monster killers and all. But ... are you trying to tell me that there were twin babies placed with an adoption agency at the same time, and the agency has detailed information about what happened to the girl but fuck-all on the boy? Like, nobody even bothered to go, hey detective journalist guys, don’t you want to know about BOTH of Sandra Morray’s coma-born babies? Or maybe, yeah, we have that record on file — which child are you asking about?

*  *  * 

Good building and scaffolding of a premise so far, right? It’s too bad that from here, the narrative kind of dribbles to a halt. And before we can get to the closure of Peter and Sara and Julie and Dr. Morray and everyone else (except the cops, like I mentioned), we have to listen to Govinda dream about the story he was told of Rak’s birth. Basically, his mother was a celibate seer who was raped, and the act implanted in her a monstrous presence that was never wrong. In fact, one of her predictions went so right that the man she was giving it to killed her, pretty much at term. So the dude who raped her cut the baby out  — and it ended up being Rak.

Govinda is still watching him, in a cemetery, digging up a coffin. Govinda’s wife’s coffin. Who then comes to zombie-life and delivers their baby, also dead. Govinda realizes he’s being given a second chance with his god; at least according to this narrative, Hindus must be cremated rather than buried. (Wikipedia says this isn’t always true of every sect, but remember Pike didn’t have Wikipedia in 1994. Besides, even with a burial there are still preparation rites that we can probably assume Govinda didn’t follow, being too distraught to be a good Hindu.) So when his dead wife and son lie back down, he lights them on fire. Is this why he was supposed to be following Rak? He’s not risking it — he leaves the pyre and goes after him.

Now Julie shows up at Sara’s house, and she wants to go for a walk on the beach. Obviously Julie is still under Seedling, because she knows she doesn’t trust this lady but goes with her anyway. And she’s right to distrust, because Sara drags her into the ocean and starts the same transformation she did on Susan Darly.

And even though we know the Cold One is Sara, It still narrates in this way as It makes Its way back to the house. I’ll give this to Pike: he thoroughly commits to the voice. Who should It encounter on the road in front, though, but Rak, who asks to hear Its story. The Cold One tells how It has always had a consciousness beyond Its apparent age and that It followed the instructions of the Voice until it suddenly disappeared. Rak reveals that the Voice is none other than the ghost of the life of Sandra Morrow, causing the Cold One to relive her life up to the point of her death. Which is why It has ended up where It is. It wants to kill Rak and his weird Indian follower, but Rak won’t allow It to touch Govinda and can’t be manipulated by It anyway. This pisses It off — but hey, finally emotions!

It goes inside to find Lawrence Morrow staring at two bottles. One is whiskey, half empty. The other contains a moving fetus — the Cold One’s miscarriage from three years earlier, echoing the miscarriage that Sandra Morrow had three years before her death. And now that It remembers everything from both lives, It wants to make Dr. Morrow hurt the way he hurt Sandra. But because It has emotions and feelings for the first time, It wants to savor them, to drag things out and taunt and scare Larry. So he gets away, with the knowledge that his wife is somehow the comatose vegetable seven states away and the goal of stopping her, with maybe a plan? We don’t know yet.

But Rak and Govinda are still outside, because Govinda doesn’t know if his job is done yet. They walk down to the beach and find the lifeless body of Julie Moore in the surf. Govinda is ready to stop Rak from murdering an innocent, but all Rak does is watch Julie struggle to breathe. Govinda wants to help, but as he’s reaching in her mouth to clear the airway Julie bites off his finger. And now Rak steps in, calmly pushing Julie back to the sand and quieting her. He explains to Govinda that Julie carries a child who is the incarnation of the Hindu death goddess Kali, and that there’s nothing either of them can do  and no rationale to what’s already happened. He takes off, and this time Govinda doesn’t follow, so he’s there when Julie wakes up and can take care of her instead.

Now Peter is stuck in the Denver airport on a layover and is thinking about everything he’s learned. He calls up the ex-girlfriend who bailed on him after her miscarriage, and learns that she was scared of the sensation, not just of miscarrying but also how cold and abnormal the life inside felt. So Peter’s vindicated in his jumping to conclusions, even though he hasn’t read the whole book like I did and couldn’t possibly know everything.

When he gets home, the first thing he does is goes to see Sara, and tells her everything he’s found out. She’s not to be deterred from her plan, though: fuck her brother and make a Cold Baby. If she can’t carry warm life to term and he can’t provide life for a ... I don’t know, “warmie”? Then maybe they should get it on together and allow their cold child to destroy humankind. Before she can torture him into banging her, though, Peter’s roommate shows up, having found the address and directions in the apartment and thinking it was a new place he had to deliver a newspaper. So Sara holds him under in the hot tub until Peter agrees to do what she wants, but it’s too late and the roommate is dead.

Meanwhile, Dr. Morray is flying the other direction, to see his wife for the first time in thirty years. And not just to see her: to cut her life support so she can die with whatever shred of dignity she has left, and so her undead reborn self will also die without ruining the world. Does he sign a medical order of withdrawal of life support? Hell no, he’s too rich and important for that. He sneaks in a scalpel and slices off the air tube, holding Penny Hampton hostage while he does it so nobody will stop him.

And now, with no breath in the warm lungs, the Cold One realizes that It is near Its end. That sentence is a cheat to make it sound more interesting: we’re still in Peter’s POV, as Sara smothers and fades. She tells him what Rak told her: that the first breath is a gift, and it can be given just as a life reaches its end to make more life. So Peter, who has never had anybody except this roommate, realizes that he has a responsibility to let him live. He blows his last breath into the roommate’s lungs and then dies beside his naked sister lover monster.

Epilogue, finally! Three years later, Govinda is back in LA for a meeting and he connects with Julie and her daughter at a playground. The kid sure is creepy and precocious, and doesn’t seem to be hot even though it’s a sweltering day. Maybe he shouldn’t have let Rak save Julie? Too late! To be continued! Only not, and it never was, and now Pike says it never will be!

Like ... what happened to the roommate? What happened to Dr. Morray and Penny Hampton? How is everybody reacting to the deaths of Peter Jacobs and Sara Morray? Has the city recovered from the monstrous killing spree? Does Govinda actually have a reason for being here beyond just telling us what Rak is doing? Where is the actual closure?

I really enjoyed reading The Cold One right up until that fourth section. It spent all of this time building people and monsters and showing how they were related to each other, and then it rushed to the end in less than a quarter of the length, with Peter’s death literally the last thing before the epilogue and no time to react or respond to it. It feels like Pike just had to get through the book to fulfill his contract requirement and didn’t have time to actually finish it, thus the tossed-in promise of The Cold One 2: Seedling at the end. I wish he would have just finished it at the time instead of kicking the can down the road to infinity.