I should have known that strange bird was a sign of bad luck. Announcing its presence atop the old abandoned building, its beady eyes fixed on me, calling out in such a loud garble it forced me to pull out an earbud.

  Cast in its shadow as it consumed the afternoon light from behind, I approached the small brick building with a playful coo, “Wow, you’re a big guy, aren’t you?” I paused, smiling at my joke, but the bird remained silent. Then, with a sudden burst of energy, its long black wings furled out and took flight from its spot. I watched, momentarily taken aback, as the bird soared into the sky, its silhouetted mass taking time to diminish.

  With its presence gone, I noticed an odd patch of small yellow daisies seemingly out of place, growing without dirt on the solid surface of rough bricks, stone, and glass. Curiously, I snapped some photos with my phone before plucking one out from the cardboard-draped window, surprised to find it rootless.

  A new song shuffled in and I imagined myself as a traveling botanist on the hunt for a cure for a magical illness. As I examined the building further, I followed the warm-toned petals from the windows to a nearby dumpster, where something caught my eye. There, neatly laid in the weeds, a metallic necklace.

  The pendant was an incomplete infinity symbol on thick black string. Both in pristine condition, I excitedly put it in my pocket. The music shifted again, its melody whisking me away into a new adventure as I finished my walk home.

  Coming back to my street and shutting off my tunes, reality slowly crept back in. The distant sound of children playing, their laughter blending with the hum of lawnmowers grounded me further into the familiar landscape of my neighborhood.

  The moment I walked inside, the smell of freshly brewed coffee met me at the door. Mom stood at the counter, pouring a cup and asked me, “Did you finish off the entire pot again?” It was clear she had just woken up still in her pajama pants and hair unbrushed.

  “I was working on some panels,” I answered. “And it wasn’t a full pot.”

  Mom looked back at me with a dramatic leer. “Always make a full pot,” she teased.

  “But then I would drink it all,” I said with a smirk.

  “Next time, make some more. Get some extra practice before you start work next week,” she said and bent down into a laundry basket at the table, looking for pieces of her uniform.

  “Where’d you go?”

  “Just went for a walk to the park. I saw these weird-looking flowers while I was out.”

  “Oh, yeah? Maybe you should save your money to get a car,” she said, ignoring half my sentence with a sip of her mug.

  I pulled up a photo of the flowers on my phone, but mom just barely took a glance to say ‘cool’ before mining for a matching set of socks. “Found a necklace, too. And there was a massive bird. I think it was a crow.”

  “Crows get pretty big.”

  “It was like this,” I said, drawing my arms out until they couldn’t stretch anymore.

  “Like the size of Rhode Island?” She said, hinting at one of our jokes about pointing out when anyone used our state as a measurement.

  Though I was being serious, I went along. “It was exactly that dramatically large and small at the same time,” I said.

  “Use it as inspiration for your next comic. Crow Man by Arianna Amaris,” she laughed, finally sitting down.

  “That’s stupid. No one would read that and comics aren’t just superheroes.”

  “I thought you liked superheroes,” she defended, and she wasn’t wrong. My love for all illustrated stories was rooted in the first heroes that one of mom’s previous boyfriends put into my hands in his attempt to bond with me.

  “I have better ideas,” I explained.

  “By the way, don’t be mad at me. I can take you to work Monday, but I’m not going to be able to pick you up.”

  “It’s fine. I’d rather just walk, anyway.”

  “I wanted pictures when I picked you up,” she jokingly whined. “A before and after with you all cheery going in and another with stains all over your shirt and pulled hair coming out of your visor.”

  “I’m definitely not doing that,” I said knowing she intended to share it with her friends who’ll make the embarrassing comment, ‘aww Catherine, she looks just like you!’ With just the same color hair and eyes everyone deemed me a shorter version of her.

  With only a weekend left until I started my first job at the cafe, I spent my “final days of freedom” working on the comic I started, knowing my free time would soon diminish. Each panel felt like a fleeting moment slipping away.

  Mom laughed and told me I was being dramatic, claiming my hours wouldn’t be that long. I was doubtful about that when during my interview, I was told there would be plenty of shifts to call me in on sunny days.

  Regardless of how I tried to spend those days, Monday still arrived and I let mom take her photos as she reminded me that the next ones were of my first paycheck.

  She casually mentioned names of some girls she worked with, as if I were supposed to have remembered them. “Everyone wishes you luck. Let me know when you get to the cafe,” she said and lifted my visor to give me her traditional forehead kiss. “Don’t forget to smile for your customers,” mom advised, noting my gloomy expression. “Would you like me to take you? It’s burning out here. You’ll be drenched in sweat by the time you get there.”

  I reminded her the walk took ten minutes, plus it would ease my nerves by giving me more time to listen to music.

  Mom swore it’d feel like the first day of school, but it didn’t. It lacked the familiar optimism to start the year off right in a new outfit. Instead, my stomach ached from it twisting and stretching as if it were ready for a marathon. Perhaps the rest of my quivering insides could join in. Give me any excuse not to set foot into work. Maybe I could tell them, “Sorry, can’t come in today. Have to chase after my organs.”

  My body tensed even more as I heard the guttural cawing from behind me. I spun around to a large black bird staring back at me. Either these birds were getting pumped at the gym, or it was the same one now creeping around my house.

  I backed up on the lawn, and we watched each other until I was on the street. I was already so nervous that I’d forgotten to put on my music for the entire trip. Each step felt heavy, my mind replaying all the things that could go wrong on my first day.

  Still trying to compose myself, I walked into the building of my new workplace with a deep breath. The familiar smell of roasted vanilla greeted me as I walked through the door, and it momentarily lifted my spirits. Though that small comfort evaporated when the manager told me to remove all my jewelry and leave my phone with it in the back room.

  After that, I followed her to the front, where she introduced me to my trainer Evie. Her thick eyelashes could touch the top of her visor, and the smell of smoke clung to her like perfume.

  Under her guidance, I attempted to make a coffee for a customer twice, failing miserably both times. My confidence was fading quickly as the customer kept harping on me while pleading with my trainer to make it herself. Thankfully, Evie finally intervened, but the customer’s angry huff left me embarrassed.

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  Evie groaned, exacerbated, shoving the bills into the draw once the door closed. “She doesn’t even know how to order her coffee,” she said. “Like, seriously, what kind of person orders that much cream and expects it to be black?”

  Through orders, I spent most of my time cleaning away the coffee doodles I penned with a straw and staring at the clock.

  5:18. That’s close to five-thirty. Which was almost six. And then another three hours. Almost done.

  The bell on the door alerted another customer’s arrival, and I hoped for a simple order. A woman about the same age as my mom smiled, saying, “I keep seeing you around.” She pushed her sunglasses up from her freckled copper cheeks to a cloud of curly hair.

  As her unnatural, vibrant scarlet eyes locked onto mine, I admired the golden and rosy hues that highlighted her in the backdrop of the noon sky. My fingers twitched, imagining every pastel blended on paper.

  “I’m sorry. I’m new,” I said.

  “Not here,” she corrected my assumption about her being a regular. “You were behind that old salon off the main road.”

  The sinking feeling in my stomach made me wonder if she had been watching without my knowledge. “Sounds like you’re stalking me,” I added, trying to lighten the awkwardness of the moment.

  The woman smirked at my attempt at humor before revealing, “I live close by. Said you just started working here?”

  I confirmed and started, “What can I get you?”

  “Small coffee, please.”

  “Regular?”

  “Extra on the cream and sugar, sorry. Got a fresh pot back there?” I told her yes, though it wasn’t true. While I prepared her drink, she asked me a question that made me feel uneasy.

  “Can I ask? What did you do with that necklace?”

  “Uh... What?” How had I not noticed this lady before, and yet she knew exactly what I had?

  “I was watching you,” she said.

  “Yeah. You said that,” I said, keeping my eyes directly down at making her drink.

  “No, I mean- you should wear it. It doesn’t work unless you put it on.”

  “Huh?” I had no intention of admitting I wore it all weekend until I got to work, but what was she talking about?

  “Someone gave it to me,” she explained, “to give to you. I’m just curious where it is.”

  I finally looked up and studied her serious expression, feeling the squirm to look back down from her unusually bright eyes. “OK,” was all I could manage as I scrambled to add the cover to her drink.

  “Don’t know how many times I’ve tried to get you to pick that thing up. Figured it’d be weird if I handed it to you, but I didn’t think about what I’d have to do to get you to actually wear it.”

  “Would you like anything else?” I stated, my voice strained as I slid over her coffee.

  She tilted her head toward the window, then pulled out a wallet from her bag, answering, “No. I’m Dana, by the way,” and handed me her payment. “So, Arianna, do you work the closing shift tonight?” Her question made me feel sick as she used the name off my tag without asking. Had she asked for it, I would have told her, ‘Ari’ and not the stupid “it needs your full name” crap the manager spewed.

  “Mhmm,” I hummed, indicating our conversation was over.

  On her way out, she departed with, “Well, stay safe.”

  Her body was finally out of sight from the window, and questions swirled in my mind. Why was she so insistent on me wearing the necklace and who was the ‘someone’ who gave it to her to give to me?

  I told Evie about my encounter while she sat in the back room where she’d been on her phone ever since the manager left. She flamed my paranoia by replying. “Yeah, she’s warning you to stay safe from her. You better hope there wasn’t anything on that thing. Do what you want, but I’d throw that out. Wash it or something. Tell me if you see her again tomorrow.”

  By the end of the night, after cleaning up, I gathered my things, double-checked the lights, locked the office door, and stepped out into the now dark parking lot. I made my way to Evie’s car where we gave our goodbyes before her headlights turned out onto the road and I gave a last look around before starting home.

  Walking to the front of the building, I spotted a woman standing at the front door, who was as tall as the frame itself and staring in. From the prop equipment on her chest that lit up and another around her neck like a disk, I wondered what convention she could have been at. Her clothing, a blend of flowing, skewed fabric and metal components, appeared otherworldly under the streetlight.

  “I’m sorry, but we’re closed,” I said, attempting to help her.

  The stranger turned in my direction, her face was so strange; pale and almost featureless under the enveloped hues of light casting from her wardrobe.

  “The gas stations are still open,” I continued as she walked towards me. “Should be coffee there.”

  In shock, I watched as the metal around her neck came alive with disorganized blinking eyes as it spun. My voice trembled as I stammered, confused, “If you go down and head left at the light...”

  She kept walking towards me, her steps deliberate and unwavering. Fear gripped me as I tried to back away, my heart pounding harder with each step she took. Just as I turned to run, the stranger’s grip brought me back on the neck of my apron.

  Her knuckles burned hot against my skin as she choked me into her grip. I swung back, but my attacker chopped at my wrist with the edge of her palm, causing me to recoil from the searing sensation.

  At that moment, she grappled my hair to turn me around. Tears stung the corners of my eyes as she wrenched us down to our knees.

  “It’ll be okay,” she whispered, the tone deceptively soothing.

  Her voice filled the air with a blinding light, casting a hum that imprisoned all my senses. I didn’t know how long she held me in her enchantment, but her release of me wasn’t willingly.

  Freed from her grip, I witnessed an inky black mass taking shape around my attacker. It sprouted tendrils that wrapped around her head, squirming and pulsating until, with a sudden burst, her body transformed into a ball of light that shot upward and dissipated. Breathless and bewildered, still down on the pavement, my surroundings felt darker and more silent under the streetlight.

  I pulled my gaze away from the stars where I had watched the light vanish and an outstretched hand met me.

  At first, I instinctively recoiled, looking up at the young man over me. I wanted to accept his help, but my body moved away on instinct as I studied him.

  Black wings, the same color as his hair, rested over his dark almond shoulders. Unlike the mysterious woman who had attacked me, the winged man had no aura. Though he was right there before my eyes, it felt like air. No noise from his movements, no breathing, no presence; like a black hole sucking in the light and sound around him.

  He immediately put his hands up in surrender, but continued to observe me.

  “Who are you?” My voice came out more whispered than I intended.

  “The guy who just saved your life,” he said before the dark winged hero’s expression grew confused. “You feeling alright?” he asked.

  I was about to tell him I was fine, but my optimism betrayed me. My skin was burning, and it was growing hotter. I glanced down at my hands and what I saw made my stomach turn.

  A bright light radiated from under my skin, making the darkness around me glow. I glanced at the young man and saw his glossy obsidian eyes widened with shared terror.

  “What’s happening to me?” I screeched.

  The pain from the heat let go of its hold, but that only led to the tips of my fingers to start disappearing into dust as if turning to embers from the fire under my skin. I wanted to run away from this nightmare, but I found myself rooted in place while I tried to make sense of the situation.

  “Dammit!” the hero cursed under his breath.

  In the distance, the rumble of an approaching car grew louder, breaking the silence. A green car screeched to a halt on the wrong side of the road, and the driver’s side door flew open, revealing a silhouetted figure.

  Dana stepped out, her cellphone pressed to her ear as she ran over. “What do you think you’re doing?” she yelled at the dark-winged hero, leaving her car door open.

  “I don’t know what’s going on,” he started, “there was an angel here, and it did some shit.”

  “I’m going to combust!” I cried out in desperation, my hands shaking as I revealed they were becoming almost fingerless.

  Confused and scared, I resisted as Dana tried to guide me toward her car. “Wait, what’s going on?” I stammered, feeling a swell of panic. My head shook, resisting her pull, even as her grip tightened. Dana continued talking on the phone, not even looking at me. I felt my feet growing numb, almost as if they were sinking into the ground.

  “Come on, Arianna, we have to move!” Dana’s voice was urgent, but I couldn’t stop telling her no. It was only when my legs buckled that I reluctantly let her lead me. She helped me into the backseat, and I felt my shoes becoming more hollow.

  Turning to dust wasn’t painful, but the fear gripped me, making it hard to breathe as I struggled to maintain composure.

  The car lurched forward and the speed that she drove made me realize how urgent the reality of the situation was. She was still on the phone, but I didn’t have to wonder for long where we were going when she pulled into my mom's spot in the driveway.

  I felt myself getting closer to being just a head and torso, and the thought of losing either made me afraid of dying.

  Dana threw her phone at the passenger seat as she rushed out and opened the back door where I was. A large bronze gentleman with half his face covered was waiting as he hobbled with haste, accompanied by a little boy who also had wings.

  The man’s presence didn’t quite ease my panic as I saw the scythe under his hand that he used like a cane and the dark cloak covering his body and half his face concealed with dirty cloth wrappings.

  The man’s deep voice pressed with the weight of the situation as he ran through instructions and handed over the scythe to his curly-haired youthful sidekick. Dana interjected nervously, “What are you going to do to her?”

  The air in my lungs halted as the man’s gaze on Dana made it clear there was no other choice. He was stoic, but his eerie green eye shone with regret. “If she dies like this, they’ll be able to get her, but if I kill her now, it’ll stop the process. We have a small window to do this. Adriel, be ready.”

  In the silence that followed, I could hear the pounding of my heartbeat echoing loudly in my ears. No one was going to argue.

  A yellow glow formed from the scythe, growing brighter in the boy’s hands. My eyes cringed shut as I braced myself for the worst, feeling the last of my time had finally run out.