The Source of All Evil

Chapter Four

Michaela Walker.

Michaela didn’t know for how many minutes, or hours even, she’s been sitting on her bed with a blank glare. She looked pale from anxiety, feeling nauseous, unsure of what to do. She scratched her head, glancing at the book on her desk, fighting the urge to cry.

Why did I do this? Why didn’t I stop Stella and explained everything? I’m so doomed.

I’m doomed!

She picked up her phone, frowning at her trembling hands, dialing Kirsten’s number.

“I did something bad,” she said once her friend answered the call. She could hear her asking someone to stop doing something, and she must be with Seth since it was the weekend, and he mentioned that they’d go to the lake house.

Michaela got invited to join them, but she politely and sensibly declined, wanting them to have some private time. Of course, a big part of the reason why she refused was to stay and write that story. Now that Michaela thought about it, she cursed herself for being sensible. She could’ve joined them, and none of this would’ve happened.

“What happened?” Kirsten sounded worried, making her want to crawl in a hole for not only ruining her friend’s private time with her boyfriend but also her flourishing career.

She breathed in and out, calming her heart that was about to implode in her chest. She tried to think with a leveled head. “It’s not urgent. We can talk about it when you come back.”

“What do you mean it’s not urgent? It sure is urgent, or else you wouldn’t have called me. Tell me now, or else, I’ll have Seth take me back now to your place.”

With a guilty conscious, she said. “It’s a silly thing, now that I think about it. I swear it’s not urgent, so don’t worry about it.”

“Well, I’m more worried now. Tell me.”

The fire alarm went off, and Michaela’s eyes widened, remembering the pot she left on the stove. Kirsten was frantically calling her name, and Michaela tried to reassure her as she hurried to the kitchen. Inside, she dropped the phone when she found a cloth she has misplaced and left on the stove, caught on fire.

Michaela frantically tried to put out the fire, overwhelmed by a sense of panic. She held the cloth with her bare hand, hissing as she threw it when it burned her, accidentally hitting a bottle of flammable disinfectant, and it fell on the floor.

The fire quickly spread, catching anything inflammable with its flames, making her hurriedly leave the kitchen.

She panicked and didn’t know what to do, and when she heard Kirsten screaming her name, she remembered the phone she left in the kitchen. She could use it to call for help before the flames would ravage everything she held dear and kept in this tiny apartment.

She went in only to be forced back out by a blaring blast, making her let out a blood-curdling scream. Her head hit something hard, delivering a strong blow. Michaela’s shocked eyes caught the sight of her desk. She stared at the book that brought all of this on her.

Blood started oozing instantly from her head, flowing steadily towards the book. The last thing she saw was a bright light emanating from the desk as she closed her eyes.

She could feel herself floating in the air. Her body felt light. Her mind was at peace, inundated by the serene air that surrounded her.

She tried to open her eyes but couldn’t, feeling the constraint of something around her head. Feeling alarmed, she attempted to move her body yet to no avail, as if it weren’t under her control anymore. It disturbed her calm state, panicking, fearing the unknown.

The memories flooded in, and her tears threatened to fall. The dark thought of her horrible death invaded her mind, making her poor heart clench from fear, finding it hard to breathe.

Michaela blamed Stella for the events that led to her death. She even blamed Kirsten for taking her out on that fateful day. She blamed the strange book that found its way into her bag. She even blamed herself for majoring in creative writing, which led to her tragic death.

She turned the blame on herself, cussing every decision she made in her life. This was for sure karma for the horrible thing she did. She stole someone else’s work, and it would’ve been published, increasing her fame.

Heck, Stella would use this glum opportunity of her death and publish it anyway, Michaela thought, feeling bitter.

I’ll be more famous in my death than when I was alive! This is the saddest and most morbid thing that could happen to anyone.

Wallowing in self-pity for what seemed like hours, Michaela felt her body getting heavier, her back touching something hard. Her lips got pried open, and some sort of liquid forced its way down her throat. It was tasteless, but it didn’t mean that it was comfortable for her to swallow.

Her body heat increased, making her realize how cold she was before. Michaela could feel her blood flowing, her heart pumping, the air reaching her lungs. She opened her eyes wide, doubling over to the side as she spat a mouthful of blood. Her vision was blurry, but she could make out the mess she made on the floor. Though she’d seen blood before, it never came out of her mouth, and it scared her.

I’m dead, for sure.

Where am I?

Michaela was a religious person and believed in heaven and hell. She was a good person, that she knew, but would something as simple as plagiarizing someone’s work would outweigh all the good deeds she’s done, sending her to hell?

Michaela no longer felt like crying, she was already in tears. She has never cried before, and that was for a reason. Michaela was an ugly crier. She sobbed and wailed like a little kid, unaware of the man standing next to her.

Her eyes fell on the white, long dress she had on, making her cry harder.

"I’m dead. I’m dead before I could achieve my dreams of becoming a famous writer. I’m too young to die. I had things to do, places to explore, books to read, and stories to write. I didn’t even get to experience love, find someone to spend the rest of my life with. I didn’t get to see Kirsten being lovey-dovey with her man. I didn’t even visit my mom on her birthday as I promised."

This is so unfair.

Remembering her mother, she sobbed, knowing how it’d be hard for her to lose her daughter after losing her husband.

"Why? Why me? I have never done anything wrong. I was planning to stop Stella from publishing that book! I’m a good person. I don’t want to die this early!"

“I didn’t expect you to be so whiny.”

Hearing the unfamiliar voice, Michaela looked towards the source of it, flinching away. Her vision was now clear, and the man in front of her was someone she’s seen before.

“Warrior John?”

She studied his looks with a frown. He had the same outfit as the day she first saw him. However, his hair was well-tamed, styled into a quiff, his face was smooth, no sign of that shaggy beard he had on when they met at the café. He looked clean, so handsome, fitting the image of a warrior from medieval times.

“What did you just call me?” He said with a light chuckle.

Michaela wasn’t in her right mind to feel embarrassed, overwhelmed by the room she was in. The room had mosaic tiles covering its walls. Two large boulders stood tall in the middle of it, carved in ancient symbols. Colorful glass covered the ceiling, complimenting a massive, ritzy crystal chandelier that suspended from it.

Michaela was in a weird-looking pod. She could see an altar set across with a book and a bowl on top of it.

“My name is Rafe Thomas, and I’m an archaeologist. . . I mean, I was an archaeologist.”

Michaela looked at him in both anticipation and surprise at hearing this. She still frowned as she couldn’t understand why he was here. Why him of all people?

She was dead, so the only person she should meet, presumably, was her father. He died years before her, and whatever this place was, her father should be waiting for her.

Didn’t they say that your late loved ones watch over you from the heavens? She wondered. Shouldn’t my father be here instead of this man? Am I not in heaven, but hell?!

The last thought scared her, scratching her head as she looked around the room.

“I need you to stay calm while I explain everything. Believe me. I know how strange and unfathomable this must be for you.”

His gray eyes urged her to hear him out, and she curtly nodded, wiping away her tears, conscious of the fact that a stranger saw her crying and heard her embarrassing monologue.

He smiled. “I’ll first tell you about myself and how I ended up here, okay?”

Nodding, she scowled, musing about this. This strange man, Rafe, ended up with her in the same place? And what was this place? She was mindful of the way he referred to it as if it were heaven or hell as she assumed, wouldn’t he just say it as it was?

“I was offered a job to work with a famous archaeologist to explore a ruin site. There, we found an object, and I brought it back with me to the states to study it. I didn’t know that it wasn’t a normal object, and somehow, I triggered it. I woke up here, in this magical but dangerous world, and ever since, I’ve been trying to find a way to leave.”

“With me so far?" He asked Michaela, and she shook her head, as she truly didn’t get what he was saying.

She questioned if this guy was really insane or just playing some humorless prank on her. But they didn’t know each other, and he had no gain from telling her lies.

Michaela thought about this rationally. Let’s say that what he said was true, she thought. Rafe was an archaeologist who stumbled upon an ancient object that sent him to a ‘magical but dangerous’ place. He claimed that he’s been trying to escape, so how would he explain him turning up at the café in her world?

This was insane, she chuckled humorously, staring at the puzzled man in front of her. “I don’t get it. Are you implying that I’m not dead and that we’re stuck in some weird place, like in a parallel universe?”

“Yes and no,” he vaguely replied, making her let out an empty laugh.

“Are you pulling my leg or something?” She tried to stand up, only for her feet to give in as if she were paralyzed from the waist down. Hearing the man laugh, she grudgingly started pinching her legs to increase the blood flow and get rid of the numbness.

“This won’t work, Michaela. I’ve just woken you up, so it’ll take a couple of days for you to be able to move.”

Wary that this dangerous man not only had the upper hand in keeping her in this weird room, but he also knew her name. Michaela gritted her teeth, lied on her stomach on the floor, using her upper-body strength to move.

“What are you doing?” Asked the man. His tone of voice had a lilt of amusement in it.

Huffing, she looked up to meet his smug look. “Dragging my body out of here, duh!”

Rafe laughed harder, but that didn’t stop her, struggling to drag herself towards a huge gate. She didn’t know how she’d manage to open the gate, as it looked heavy, made out of what looked like mahogany wood, carved in a similar fashion as those pillars.

Rafe didn’t make a move to stop her either. He seemed to enjoy the sight of her struggling to get to the gate.

Michaela started sweating, cursing inwardly for how heavy her body was for her frail arms. She chastised herself for not working out much and building up strength. It would’ve been useful at this moment.

She only made a little progress towards the gate, stopping to catch her breath.

“Are you done?”

She looked back and glared at the mass of annoyance that was with her in the room, pursing her lips. Rafe walked closer, leaning down, and swiftly picked her up, making her let out a yelp.

“What are you doing?! Put me down!”

He smiled. “Relax, I’m helping you. You want to see what’s beyond that gate, right?”

Having no choice but to agree, since it’d take a lot of effort and time for her to reach the gate, she huffed.

Rafe’s smile widened, walking with her in his arms to the gate, and it magically opened without him doing anything. Saying that she got surprised was an understatement, as Michaela faced the world outside with an agape mouth, a racing heart, and an astonished mind.

“We are in the middle of the fairy woods, and the huge building you see down the hill is the royal palace; the home of the royal family of the Crystfire kingdom.”

“Are you fine now?”

Michaela nodded, finding herself back in the room after embarrassingly fainting in the arms of a stranger. Rafe has placed her back in the pod, standing over her, bearing an apathetic glare.

The sight of the world outside this room was overwhelming for her. She first thought that Rafe has somehow got inside her burning apartment. He managed to save her, only to bring her here. It was the only logical thing Michaela could possibly think of, as ending up in a magical world where a kingdom from a book she read existed was far impossible to digest.

However, while standing outside and carefully studying the surroundings, Michaela saw a fluffy pink thing blinking its blue eyes at her, reminding her of a creature in an anime she once watched as a kid.

Michaela first blinked her eyes, letting out a chuckle in disbelief. And when it drew closer, her sense of panic heightened, which resulted in her fainting.

“You’re lucky I was carrying you when you passed out. When I first got here, I fainted inside the forest, almost getting myself targeted by hungry beasts.”

Michaela’s lips felt dry, thinking of millions of questions to ask but not finding the words to start. She pointed her finger at the gate, wary of how terribly her hand trembled, saying.

“W-What the hell was that?!”

Rafe frowned, glancing back at the closed gate. “Oh, that! It’s a mythical creature they call. . . Squishy. . . Uh, now that you mentioned it, it’s a rare creature, so I better go capture it.”

“Wait!” She glared at the inconsiderate bastard. While she was going insane here, this man wanted to go outside and play with something called ‘Squishy’?!

She was scared, and whether she liked it or not, having him around assured her and made her feel safe.

“What is it?” He asked impatiently, making her glare deepen.

“Y-You’re not leaving me here on my own! You better start explaining what’s going on!”

He smirked, sounding haughty as he said. “You think you are in any position to threaten me? I could just leave you here to starve.” Seeing that she didn’t look fazed nor impressed by his little joke, Rafe chuckled. “Fine, fine. I’ll tell you.”

Rafe turned towards the altar and picked up the book. The same strange book she found in her bag. Seeing that it was here, Michaela ran her mouth frantically in disbelief.

“Calm your horses, Michaela. Let me explain.”

She huffed, folding her arms on her chest. “Proceed then.”

“The strange object I found was this book. When I brought it home with me to study it, I found out the story it entailed was just like any normal fantasy story that revolves around a love triangle between a princess and two cultivation experts.”

Michaela was nodding along in anticipation. She suspected that Rafe was the one who hid the book in her bag, and she wanted to know why. She wanted to know how he showed up in her world while claiming that he wanted to escape from here. And more importantly, was there a way for her to get out from here?

If a little furball creature scared the wits out of her, Michaela couldn’t imagine seeing the other beasts she read about in the book. She’d die from shock.

“I was so happy when I found it, thinking that it had some secrets of ancient or foreign civilization, but it was just a god damn silly romantic story. . . I got pissed, livid that I risked my career over a stupid book.”

“What do you mean you risked your career?” She asked.

His eyes widened a bit as if in this moment of anger, he said more than he wanted to share. He then chuckled lowly.

“I said that, didn’t I?” He let out a villainous laugh, and Michaela questioned his sanity. “I guess there is no harm in telling you. We’re both stuck here, anyway.”

Michaela felt depressed when he reminded her that she was stuck in this world. The only reason why she didn’t go insane was thanks to this guy. She wouldn’t tell him, though, since he looked like a conceited prick.

I guess misery does love company.