Chaos Agents

Episode 1: Three-Thirty-Three

My eyes snapped open, and though my eyes had not adjusted to the dark, I didn’t need to look at my bedside clock to know it was precisely three-thirty-three a.m.

I rubbed my eyes, washed away the last remnants of sleep, and rolled over and gazed at the dark, shadowy creature that was hovering at the foot of my roommate’s bed.

I cleared my throat. “She’s not going to wake up,” I told the creature. “I spiked her sports drink with a little belladonna so she would sleep through the night.”

The creature turned its glowing red gaze on me, and though it didn’t have eyelids, I swore it blinked as it said, “Well, that was rude. How am I supposed to do my job properly with a witch interfering?”

I stifled a yawn as I sat up. “I don’t mind it when Alley receives the occasional visit from a sleep paralysis demon, but you have returned every night. I thought it would be best if she got a full night’s rest,” I told the sleep demon. After a short pause, I asked, “Why have you been visiting so often?”

The sleep demon flung its arms helplessly, “Because it’s my job.”

“Usually, beings work to accomplish a task. What does scaring the crap out of a young lady accomplish?” I queried.

“I am not scaring her,” the creature responded in a clipped, defensive tone, “I’m warning her to be on the alert. The universe sends humans signs all the time, but unless they are on their toes, they often ignore the warnings.”

“Warning signs?” I repeated, glancing at my roommate who had yet to stir. Though her mass of curly blonde hair shielded her face, her light snores signaled that she remained in a blissful slumber. “Is Alley in danger?”

“I think they all might be,” the creature said, flaring one of its shadowy limbs. “We have been awfully busy lately.”

“So, you don’t know why she should be on the lookout?”

The sleep demon shook its head. “It’s not my job to know.”

I opened my mouth to press further, but then the demon had a question for me, “Why is a witch living among humans?”

That was a fair question; most witches avoided interacting with humans at all costs. Humans were a paradox, managing to be predictable and unpredictable. Witches were not fond of paradoxes, finding them messy and unnecessary.

“I plan to teach young humans,” I told the creature, “But I suspect in order to educate them I should become familiar with them first, and what better way to observe them than to live among them?”

“A noble venture,” the creature answered with what I thought was a hint of admiration, “But if you insist on remaining close, I advise you to be on alert as well. There is something brewing in the air.”

I didn’t need to ask the creature what it was implying. Over the past few days, I have felt an energetic shift as well, and there has been electricity in the air, which is a sign that a storm was on the horizon.

I nodded. “I will be,” I assured the creature. I had more questions for the sleep demon, but it was already turning away.

“Wait,” I called after it, “Where are you going?”

The demon turned its glowing eyes on me. “I told you; we have been busy. It will be dawn soon, and I have other appointments.”

“Will you be back tomorrow night?” I asked hopefully.

The creature opened Alley’s closet door and paused. “I don’t know,” it said. “That will depend on what the day brings.”

I wanted to bid the demon a final farewell, but before I had the chance, it slipped through the cracked closet door and disappeared.

Once Alley’s demon was gone, I fluffed my pillow and attempted to go back to sleep, and though I routinely interacted with creatures from other dimensions, for some reason, my recent interaction was nagging at the corners of my mind. Frustrated, I kicked off my blankets and resolved to start my day.

The belladonna I had given Alley had been a light dose, enough to prevent her from waking up and shuddering in fear, but not enough to keep her asleep for too long, so I was careful to remain silent as I gathered my shower caddy.

My roommate was an early riser; not only was she an excellent student, but she was also involved in every club imaginable. Humans labeled people like Alley as overachievers, but as a witch, I knew the truth: she was attempting to keep herself occupied so she could avoid facing the realities of life, and though I would usually caution against avoidance, I couldn’t blame her; the world was a mess.

With my basket in hand, I silently slipped out into the hall and made my way to the shared bathroom.

Though the showers and toilets were in individual stalls, there wasn’t much privacy unless you used the facilities early in the morning. Of course, the toilets and the showers were separated by individual stalls; the person next to you could hear your every movement. I found this particularly embarrassing when I unexpectedly caught a stomach bug that was circulating around campus.

Regardless, I refused to return home to shower. My aunts ( who also happen to be my coven sisters) had begged me not to move to the dorms, warning me that living among the humans wouldn’t offer me any clarity. Stubbornly sticking to my convictions, I had done so anyway, determined to prove them wrong. Although it has become apparent to me in the past few weeks that they were correct, I refuse to return home and give them the satisfaction of knowing they were right.

I hung my towel outside the stall, turned on the shower, and allowed the water to run for a moment before entering.

The heat from the water collided with the cool tiles of the stall, causing large clouds of steam to escape. By the time I emerged, the entire room was veiled by a heavy fog.

Though it was difficult to see more than a few feet, I spotted the silhouette of a woman with feline features pressing her face against the steam on the mirror.

“You’re wasting your time; it’s only me,” I told the silhouette.

Though the silhouette couldn’t speak, I could feel its frustration as it swiped away the impression she had left on the glass before fading away altogether.

As the sleep demon had revealed, the universe is constantly leaving signs for humans, some more prominent than others. The female form in the bathroom was a Bastet, an entity charged with protecting young women. This one was fond of leaving impressions on the mirrors to remind women to be aware of their surroundings.

I finished clearing the mirror with my own towel and faced the reality that I often avoided: my own reflection.