Chapter 1
One of the largest shopping malls in the city was on fire. The enormous building burned to the ground. Flames devoured everything in their path, growing stronger and stronger. The fire consumed not just the building—it leapt to nearby houses, other buildings, and parks. Emergency services rushed to the scene: not only fire trucks, but dozens of ambulances and rescue vehicles filled the street. In just a few minutes, many boutiques were reduced to ashes. People shouted:
"Do something! My money! It will all be gone! Save my fortune!"
Some even managed to cry.
What money? People are burning here! They should be grateful to be alive, not consumed along with their filthy wealth. I held my breath. Firefighters, paramedics, and rescuers couldn't get people to safety in time. Even as the number of vehicles increased, there were far more people. And the fire seemed only to be starting, spreading at a terrifying speed. I stood there, clenching my fists, watching with hope. Of course, I understood that losses were inevitable. But I still hoped everyone could be saved.
"Mommy, aaahhh!" a cry rang out to my right. My heart clenched. On the tenth floor of the neighboring building stood a little girl. The building was completely engulfed in flames, yet somehow she remained unharmed. She stood at the edge of a window. Behind her, fire roared, and the window wobbled under her feet. I looked around—there was no help. All the security staff were busy. People were saving their loved ones or their money. There was no one to help. Either she would fall to her death in a thousand pieces, or be consumed by the flames. No, I could not allow that. She needed my help.
I ran into the fire. Not a single inch inside was free of flames. Thick, suffocating smoke burned my lungs, but there was no time to waste. Adrenaline surged through me. Eighth, ninth, tenth floors—straight ahead and then to the right toward the third window. I ran as fast as I could. Finally, I reached the door behind which the girl was standing. When I threw it open, a fiery wooden cabinet almost collapsed on me.
"Mommy, I'm scared!" the girl sobbed desperately, clutching the window shutters. It was shaking.
"Don't move, I'm coming," I said, trying to find a way through the obstacle. It was useless.
"Aaahhh! Help!" the girl screamed.
Through the cracks, I noticed the window starting to fall downward. In a panic, I began moving pieces of the cabinet, but it was massive. Time was almost up. I pressed the heavy boards against myself, pushed the charred boxes aside, but every attempt caused excruciating pain—burns on my arms tore at my skin, my fingers cut on the scorched edges, my knees shook from the strain. Smoke stung my eyes, my lungs felt constricted, and my heart pounded so fast it felt like it would burst from my chest. But I couldn't stop. Every second counted.
"Jump!" I shouted, removing obstacles faster and faster. The heat from the fire was unbearable.
"I'm scared, I can't... Where's Mommy?" the girl said, her voice trembling.
I had almost cleared a path when I heard a scream, followed by a crushing crack. I broke through the cabinet, not thinking about my burning skin—it felt like it was literally melting. Through the thick black smoke, I couldn't see anything and moved blindly toward the light of the window. My foot slipped downward. The window... it was gone.
I looked down. Oh God... No... God... I didn't make it...
People had gathered around the girl. She lay motionless, her head bloodied. Darkness filled my vision. Everything around me went black. I was transported to a pitch-black, silent room, completely empty. My head throbbed, the pain was unbearable. Something began to blur my eyes. I sank to the ground and clutched my head with my hands.
If I hadn't been afraid and rushed to save her right away—would she still be alive? If I had just waited until someone else was free—would she still be alive? If only...
My thoughts were cut short by a silhouette. It was bright, like a lantern among the four black walls around me. But it wasn't a human silhouette.
In front of me stood a huge cat. A lion? A tiger? Maybe a puma? Whatever it was—it moved toward me with grace. Slowly. Confidently. Step by step.
Three... two... one...—that's how many meters were left between us. But it didn't stop and kept coming closer.
I froze, stunned, and stumbled backward. What is this? Does it want to eat me?
I couldn't make out a single detail—before me it was only a glowing feline figure. It shone—like a lantern, a nightlight, a beacon...
I kept backing away, never taking my eyes off the creature. I hit the wall with my back—the end of the square. Fear pierced through me. Maybe this is just some sick fantasy? But it felt far too real.
I swallowed a lump in my throat. It wants to eat me... probably. A giant cat. I was scared, but not as much as I thought I would be. Maybe because I didn't see its fangs, sharp as blades. Or because I hadn't met its predatory gaze.
But then I felt hot breath. That's when the real fear struck. It had come almost right up to me. My breathing faltered, I gulped air in ragged gasps. Any second now... any moment... it would open its jaws and devour me right here!
But that never happened. Instead, it leaned down, moved toward my right chest—and vanished.
I hadn't expected that. Relief spread through my chest, my breathing slowly steadied. But I was still inside the black box.
And then a faint rhythm broke the silence. A sound so painfully familiar. What the hell... Was this all...
I opened my eyes—and that was a mistake. The morning sun burned my eyes so badly I nearly went blind. That damn alarm was buzzing in my ears. I grabbed my pillow and hurled it across the room with all the strength I could muster. Finally, silence.
After lying there for a few seconds, I tried to get up. Suddenly, my entire body screamed in protest—as if I hadn't slept all night and had been working like a horse. I couldn't move properly. Every motion brought some kind of pain. Carefully rising, I almost fell to the floor, but the pain quickly subsided. I looked around my room. My gaze landed on the mirror recently hung on the wall—and I should have avoided looking. My red hair was a tangled mess, like a scarecrow in a field, and under my green eyes were dark blue bags. Definitely not sparing the concealer today.
While I was examining my reflection, the door to my room opened.
"Daugh...ter. Did you even sleep? You look like a ghost."
"And good morning to you, Mom," I replied sarcastically, meeting her green eyes, inherited from her.
My mom has a striking combination of features—green eyes and silky black hair, which she likes to tie into a bun. She chuckled briefly, but her laughter quickly turned into surprise.
"Jessica, when did you get a tattoo? Why didn't you tell me? I mean, I don't approve, but you could at least have warned me."
Confused, I followed her gaze to where she was looking. My jaw dropped. I hurriedly inspected myself—and saw a strange design above my collarbone.
"Mom... I... I didn't do anything! It... it..."
"By itself?"
"Yes!"
"Jessica, I'm disappointed. Getting a tattoo is your choice, but blatantly lying that you didn't... that's too much."
"Mom, I swear..."
"Don't swear! Don't throw around promises like that—it's not a joke."
I looked at my mom with disappointment, and she only added:
"Breakfast is on the table—eat up before school."
Once the door closed, I jumped up and approached the mirror to inspect the tattoo. It wasn't just a design—not just words or symbols. The line started at the bottom, twisted, went upwards, slightly curving to the right, then horizontally with a slight rise, ended in the lower part of an eight, then wavy down and up, forming a nine, and finished with an arrow pointing right. All neat and beautiful. Well, at least thanks for that.
"Jessica, are you coming?" my mom called from the kitchen.
"I'm coming, Mom!"
I tied my hair into a bun and headed downstairs. The smell of breakfast clouded my mind. On the table was my favorite English breakfast, and Mom was pouring tea.
"Thanks, Mom!" I said, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. Sitting down, I bit into a sausage.
Half an hour later, I finished eating and put on my school uniform—a red plaid mini-skirt that highlighted my waist, a shirt with the top buttons undone, a red tie, knee-high socks, and matching shoes. I added gold jewelry, a white bag, and fake glasses. My hair was in a loose, messy bun. Ready. I said goodbye to Mom and left the house.
The school was not far. I turned on the music and strolled along the sidewalk, enjoying the spring breeze. The light scent of blooming flowers, the warmth of the sun, and the chirping birds filled me with energy. The sun blinded me—but it was a pleasant warmth on my skin. Birds circled above, making it feel as if the city itself was waking up with me.
"Hey! Jessica, aren't you going to say hi?" a squeaky voice rang out.
God, how I hate that voice.
"Oh, hi, Clara Hart. I didn't even notice you," I said, turning.
"Seems like your glasses don't help," she sneered, her black eyes fixed on me.
"Too bad they can't see crap," I shot back, pointing at her strict chestnut-colored bun.
Clara—the most popular and beautiful girl at school. Tanned skin, plump lips with red matte lipstick, large round brown eyes. Square face with prominent cheekbones, narrow straight brows. Every feature is perfect, but not harmonious. Today, she wore the same school uniform as me. She was chewing gum and swinging her huge earrings. After my retort, she froze—eyes wide, mouth opening and closing in shock.
"I gotta go," I said and walked into the school.
Greetings in the hallways—"Hi, Jessica!" "Good morning!"—I acknowledged with a smile and a nod. I was popular at school, but I had no friends. Right now, though, that didn't matter. I just needed to find the biology classroom and make it in five minutes.
All five lessons flew by, and then came the moment I had waited for all my life—cheerleading. Upperclassmen from our school were participating in the city basketball olympiad, and I had been chosen as a flyer. I couldn't contain my excitement. Today was the tenth practice, and I had to give it my all. Time was tight.
I changed into the red uniform and dashed to the gym.
"Hey, Jessica, ready?" they asked immediately.
"Of course! And you?"
"You bet!"
We lined up to stretch before attempting difficult stunts. Our team consisted of five girls, but today only three were present. Oh, and Clara was in the team too—I almost forgot. She was always late. But where was Mia? That wasn't like her. I wanted to ask the girls, but...
"Did you see the city news?!" Mia ran in, barely catching her breath.
"You think we follow the news?" Lilith rolled her eyes.
"Jessica! Didn't you brag?"
Six pairs of eyes turned toward me automatically.
"About what?" I asked, probably sounding too fake.
"The city fire!"
"Oh, everyone knows that," Lilith replied.
"No, Jessica is a real superhero—no, she's Spider-Man! She saved more than ten lives. And now she's standing here like nothing happened."
A memory of that girl flashed in my mind—her lifeless body, bloodied head...
"I don't want to talk about it," I said sharply and added, "Let's just see the cheerleading text. Olivia, you were supposed to find it, right?" I addressed her, and to my surprise, she hadn't opened her mouth the entire time.
"Ah, yes, here," she handed us papers with the verses.
"Seriously? I read that on the first sites I found!" Lilith yelled.
"Well, sorry, I’m no poet. Take it as it is," Olivia shot back, dripping with sarcasm.
The door swung open and Clara stepped into the room.
"So, are we starting?" she asked. Everyone went silent and lined up.
"We’ve got the text now. Let’s run it first, then the music," Lilith said.
We got into position.
"We’ve got the spirit, we’ve got the fight!" we all shouted in unison.
Lilith and Mia stepped back from the line, shaking their pom-poms right and left, while I stayed put, mimicking their moves, swaying my pom-poms in rhythm. Olivia and Clara moved forward, mirroring us, and suddenly we formed a diagonal line.
"We shine like stars—we light up the night!" we shouted, swinging our hips and raising our hands to the right, then to the left, and then suddenly turning right, spinning my left hand, and dropping to one knee.
"Jump up high, shout it loud—" I rose, trying to look seductive even though the text didn’t really match. We just swayed in place, bending our arms and moving our hips.
"Our team’s strong and super proud!" we yelled, twirling our pom-poms over our heads.
Then we went on:
"Hey! Hey! Let’s go, let’s win!
Feel the fire from within!
Clap your hands, stomp your feet,
With our crew—no one can beat!"
After a few more boring moves, we finished the rest and lined up again. This time, not like soldiers. Mia stood in front of me looking right, Lilith in front of her looking left. Olivia to the right, Clara to the left. I was alone at the front, at the very end. And then the music kicked in.
Clara and Olivia did three backflips in opposite directions. Behind them, Mia and Lilith did two backflips. And finally, I saw the space in front of me. I didn’t know the song’s name, but the beat matched our moves perfectly. I lifted one leg, did a cartwheel, then a backflip, and jumped, spinning in the air like a top, landing perfectly on my feet. Behind me, the girls did a series of cartwheels: right, left, right, left. Lilith and Mia dropped to one knee behind me, while Olivia and Clara just danced nearby.
I did another set of backflips, then leapt onto Lilith and Mia’s shoulders, dancing in rhythm with Olivia and Clara, throwing in some fancy hand moves. Then I dropped down with a flip, landing on my feet.
That’s when I noticed the spectators. A few girls were standing by the door, wide-eyed. I smirked—I used to watch cheerleaders like this, and now here I am.
Lilith and Mia got up and crossed their arms. Just before the next stunt, my eyes caught a girl of Asian descent. She had a hime-style fringe, long, glossy black hair down to her waist, with a few tiny braids woven in. I hadn’t seen her before. She wore a brightly colored sweater—yellow, pink, orange—matching the tiny braid ties. The sweater covered her butt, but her blue denim shorts peeked out, mid-thigh. Her shoes were pink. She was hard to miss. And girls like her were rare at our school.
But she wasn’t watching the stunts. She was watching me. Seriously, staring right at me.
I tried not to focus on her and leapt onto the girls’ hands. They lifted me high, and I raised one leg. They rocked me slightly, and I jumped. I was supposed to do a trick—levitate—but suddenly, everything went dark. My vision blurred, the world turned hazy. My head spun, and nausea hit. Something burned in my chest. The world felt frozen. The pain grew—it was my tattoo. It felt like fire. I turned my head and saw the girl—her hand glowed with light. Was that magic? Was she casting something on me? And then, everything went black.
