Stolen Queen

The coffee shop is buzzing with business. It’s mid-fall, and the oak trees outside have transformed, their leaves a patchwork of reds and golds. The air is bitter and cold, biting at anyone brave enough to step outside. Not to mention, it’s been raining nonstop for nearly three days, which is rare for Kansas this time of year. At least, in my experience.

“Typical midwestern weather, huh?”

I glance away from the window at the sound of Natalia’s honeyed voice. She’s standing next to the booth I’d just sat down in, her apron dusted with espresso grounds. Her long, dirty blonde hair is tossed in a messy bun on top of her head. She’s the reason I frequent this cozy little caffeine haven.

She’s holding a giant mug in her hands, and as she grins, her bright blue eyes meet mine. “Your favorite,” she says, sliding the mug over. “Caramel vanilla latte with oat milk, and an extra shot of life support!”

I smile, taking the mug from her. “Thanks, Nat.” I sip the warm concoction, savoring the rich, sweet flavor. “As good as ever.”

“Duh! I make it the best.” Natalia slides into the booth across from me. “So, don’t you have a date with that hottie McTottie tonight? What’s his name again? Marcus?”

Marcus. The drummer from that underground concert last week. He’s definitely got the kind of looks that could stop traffic—tall, muscular, and just oozing confidence. I’m sure he could have any girl he wants, whenever he wants. But...

“I canceled it,” I reply, shrugging. “I don’t know... I just don’t think I want to be involved with someone who’s chasing fame. There’s a lot of baggage that comes with it, you know?”

Natalia nods slowly, her expression thoughtful. “Yeah, I get that. Fame can be a bit much. But still, no judgment from me!” Then she winks. “You could’ve at least given him a shot...”

“Natalia!” I laugh, but my cheeks flush. “I don’t want an STD. You don’t know what men like him are carrying around!”

We chat for a while longer, laughing about the latest college gossip, until the sound of her name being called pulls her away. She leans over the table, hugging me tight. “Okay, Liv, I’ll see you tonight. We’ll hang out, okay? And we’re picking up Vanessa, right?”

Vanessa, the third member of our trio. We’ve been best friends since elementary school, though these days, it’s rare to find a trio that doesn’t have some level of dysfunction. We’re as different as night and day, but somehow, it works.

Vanessa has a cheerleading scholarship, her love of dance driving her. She grew up adoring beauty and everything that goes with it. But unlike most girls in her field, she’s sweet, kind, and completely down to earth.

Natalia’s the coffee guru. She’s pursuing a degree in Horticulture and has an almost spiritual connection with plants. If she’s not working behind the counter here, she’s likely tending to a plant or talking about the latest coffee bean she’s discovered.

And then there’s me. The outcast. I don’t have a plan. No major, no direction. I think about dropping out of college every other day. It’s more stress than it’s worth, and deep down, I know it’s not where I’m going to find my purpose. My life revolves around books, Netflix, and caffeine. Coffee, wine, and tea—those are my constants.

With a sigh, I check my phone. One missed call from Mom.

That’s odd. Mom’s been in the Netherlands with her new husband, Frank, on an extended honeymoon. She never calls unless it’s urgent.

I pocket my phone and stand, grabbing my empty mug and walking over to the dish bin. I wave a quick goodbye to a busy Natalia before heading out of The Roasted Bean.

The cold hits me like a slap to the face. It’s a little after one, and the wind is picking up, sending a bitter chill through the air. Dark clouds have rolled in, turning the sky a deep, ominous gray. The smell of rain lingers in the air, thick with the promise of a downpour.

I hurry to my Jeep, my cardigan flapping in the wind. Once inside, I slam the door shut and start the car, cranking the heat to full blast. I pull out my phone and dial my mom’s number, my stomach tightening as I wait for her to pick up.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

“Olivia! My darling! I tried calling earlier! How are you?” Her shrill voice cuts through the silence.

I roll my eyes, leaning back in the seat. “I’m fine, mother. And you?”

“Oh, darling, I’m splendid! Marvelous! Franklin bought me the most beautiful diamond necklace yesterday, and it was such a surprise!”

Her voice trails off in a dreamy sigh. “That’s nice, Mom,” I say, cutting her off. “But the weather’s getting bad here, and I need to head home. Did you need something?”

Her gasp is audible. “What? Olivia, do not speak to me like that! I am not a stranger to be dismissed at your will!”

I glance out the window, barely listening to her protestations. The clouds above are black, and a shiver runs down my spine.

The clouds are black.

“Mom, I’ll call you back later,” I say, my voice tight. “I have to go.” Despite her frantic protests, I end the call and swing the door open. The wind hits me like a wall, and I feel it deep in my bones. The storm is coming fast, way too fast.

I turn toward the Jeep, planning to jump back in, but then I hear it.

“Olivia!”

The scream is sharp, desperate. I spin around, heart racing, to see Natalia running toward me. Her face is pale, her eyes wide with fear. She reaches me in a flash, grabbing my arms, her grip tight enough to bruise.

“Olivia, w-we need to leave!” Her voice shakes with panic.

Before I can react, she snatches the keys from my hand and darts toward my Jeep, not giving me a chance to process what’s happening.

And then I see it.

The bodies.

Pressed up against the coffee shop windows. Mangled, bloodied, and twisted. Customers. People who were just sitting, laughing, moments ago.

A horrified gasp escapes my lips as my legs go numb, and I drop to my knees. There’s no way this is real.

No. No. No.

This can’t be happening.

And then, the pain hits me.

A sharp, shrill sound echoes inside my head. It’s like something is ripping through my skull. The world around me blurs, and I feel like I’m floating, disconnected from everything, as though my body no longer exists.

I feel hands on my arms, gripping me, and I try to scream, but my mouth won’t open. The weight of my limbs is heavy, like I’m trying to move through thick mud.

And then, like a voice in a dream, an unfamiliar voice fills my mind, deep and husky, bouncing through my consciousness.

“Olivia of Earth... you are coming with me.”

Darkness swallows me whole.