Chapter 2 - Sharks

𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐞

"...this marks the third student reported missing from North Vale's Lunar Path research lab in just two weeks. Authorities say all students were last seen near the edge of the old forest bordering the restricted meteor site, also known as 'the Shimmer Grove' by locals."

Maybe, just maybe, letting undergrads wander into moon-juiced murder groves was a bad idea. But hey, what do I know?

"The missing have now been found—disoriented, weak, and severely dehydrated. All were located within a five-mile radius of one another, lying in circles of scorched earth under full moonlight. None recall how they got there. And stranger still, their stories are identical."

The audio cut to the voice of a rescued student.

"The veil is breathing. The stars are watching. The moon is bleeding. And he will come crowned in smoke and hunger. He comes for her. She is his or so he thinks."

The hairs on my arms stood up. I froze, stomach turning. My wrist started to itch again. I preferred to ignore the tattoo I never remembered getting, but I couldn't. After two years, it was like a constant pull.

I flipped my hand over to inspect the mark. A precise black crescent on the inside of my wrist. I ignored the fact that it felt like it was pulsing with a heartbeat. Or worse, that it had synced to mine.

I dropped my hand and pulled my hood lower over my head, picking up the pace. I let the news drone on about the disappearances, trying to distract myself.

The tone switched from solemn dirge to something upbeat as they moved to the sports segment.

"In other news, this one's good. We have a top scorer in our humble town for the first time since Chad Smith of the Underdogs scored seven goals to gold in 1998. Now we have a new champion in town, none other than resident golden-eyed forerunner, Selene Jameson. Top academic, record-breaking forward, and the first player in North Vale history to score ten goals in a single regional final."

I stopped walking. Not because I was flattered—but because I knew what was coming.

"Her game-winning goal, described by commentators as 'gravity-defying,' has gone viral overnight, drawing attention from scouts and sponsors alike. The mayor's office, along with the North Vale Academic Committee, has awarded her a combined prize of one million dollars."

Ah. There it was. The million-dollar mark. Cue the sharks.

"In a heartfelt speech after the match, Jameson thanked her coach, her team, and her late mother for believing in her."

That part was true. Coach helped me crawl through hell. My team tolerated me just enough to pass me the ball. And my mom? She was the only reason I didn't self-destruct long ago. I still had my share of her ashes, the ones I'd fought tooth and nail for. I would spread them on the most beautiful beach in the world.

"When asked how she stayed motivated, Jameson smiled and said, 'Poverty. Nothing like generational trauma to keep you hungry.'"

The reporter chuckled awkwardly. "A true icon of modern resilience."

I winced. They played the clip again.

"Selene Jameson is set to be honored at the Moonlight Hall next weekend, with full town sponsorship. Local businesses have already begun campaigning to feature her in their Lunar Fest promotions. One shopkeeper even described her as 'the pride of North Vale... a force to be reckoned with.'"

A force, huh? If only they knew.

I smiled then, wary because I knew the vultures would soon come to dine.

I took a turn onto my street and already spotted my little apartment in the distance. As cramped as it had been since I moved there after getting kicked out, it was my abode. Simply mine.

No one in my family had come here since I moved out. Not to see me or anything else. I'd seen Ivy once, but that was one time I preferred to never remember.

My gut twisted like it always did.

But since I killed the breadwinner—their words—I needed to step up. It was the only way they'd given me my portion of my mother's ashes. Working two jobs with school and practice to make sure I sent a monthly upkeep. Thank goodness for the tutoring sessions. Turned out rich parents were quite generous when you were holding their kids' academic records by the balls.

I adjusted my duffel bag on my shoulders, already drooling at the thought of the frozen dumplings in the fridge. They were on their way to tasting like wet cardboard and had a charmingly funky smell, but there was nothing a little seasoning and shallow frying couldn't fix.

I could already see myself curled up on my little couch, munching on them with half a can of already flat soda that I couldn't dare toss out. A little celebration for me—

Then I froze just as I stepped onto the pavement before my front door.

No.

My door was ajar. Voices from within.

My stomach dropped to my feet. With shaking hands, I pushed it all the way open and was met with chaos.

I counted every intruder. Six in total. My family.

Aunt Agatha's daughter, April, was in my fridge, picking up my dumplings and sniffing them. Her face instantly contorted with disgust. "It's spoiled," she said, trashing them without a second thought.

Ryder was propped up on my little couch, putting out cigarettes on it.

My aunt was in my kitchen, shuffling through the drawers like a thief.

My uncle munched carelessly on the imported cookies Raina had given me as a gift, probably the most expensive thing I owned. Had owned.

Aunt Agatha's twins ran around the apartment, toppling over my cheap vase and my handmade ballerina figurines.

My skin crawled. Acid filled my veins. Still, I couldn't move as I watched the peace of my home be trampled.

But when the running twins made my desk tip forward—the same one with my mother's ashes—I let my presence be known.

I crossed the threshold, racing for the urn that was tilting, and caught it right on time. I wrapped my arms around it, heart racing a mile a minute. When I raised my head, all eyes were on me.

The silence weighed a ton.

My aunt broke it first, her words clipped and curt. "How can you barge in like that? Don't you have any manners?"

I didn't give her words time to sink in or let the scolding make me fold. "You're right, Auntie. So rude of me to barge into my own home."