The Onyx Throne Pt. 01 Ch. 01

Still, he couldn't help noticing her death grip on the armrests. He saw her reach into her coat a couple of times during some of the bigger fight scenes and he began to wonder if she had some sort of weapon in there.

After the film was over Allora didn't say anything, even when he asked her what she thought as the credits were rolling. She was still silent as they left the theater. They walked outside and sat on some of the patio seating and she only gave noncommittal sounds to his few questions. She was quiet for so long that Mitchell started to feel slightly uncomfortable and began thinking maybe it was time to call it a night. Something was clearly bothering her. Right as he was about to suggest they should head to their respective homes, she spoke.

"This moo-vie was being a... fiction?" She said the word strangely, stretching the sound like she was imitating a cow.

"A fiction? Like not real?"

"Yes. It is being a lie?" Her eyes were locked on his as if she could read his mind if she stared hard enough.

Of all the things he thought she might be thinking about during her silent period that certainly wasn't one of them.

"Of course? Did you think it was real? Do they... Do they not have movies in your country?" Mitchell struggled to comprehend how she could not know what a movie was.

Something changed on her face and she looked like she realized she'd said something wrong.

"I am sorry," she said suddenly. "Just I am not seeing a moo-vie before."

"No, it's okay. I'm sorry to pry, I know you don't want to talk about it, but are you Amish, by any chance? Are you on that holiday they take? What's it called?" Mitchell struggled to remember the name. "Rumspringa! Are you on your Rumspringa?"

That might also explain the lilt of her voice. He'd seen where some Amish people spoke with their own accents. A sort of Dutch-tinged English.

She looked puzzled again, as she so often had over the course of their conversations but then she nodded and smiled awkwardly. "Yes. I am being on the..." She paused once again and he could see her mouth attempt to form the words. "The Rum-spring."

"Your community must have been extremely isolated if you didn't even know what a movie was. But hey, it's kinda cool that Godzilla was your first film! It's a classic."

"I am being happy your people are not treating the tragic death of so many as entertainment," she replied. "I was thinking this is a place of madness. And I am seeing no sign of dragons before this movie. Many tall buildings and are having no defenses."

"Yeah, if someone hadn't seen anything like that before, I guess I could see how you would make that assumption."

He decided not to address why she would have expected to see dragons and just filed it away as another of her peculiarities.

"No, it wasn't real," he said instead. "And there certainly aren't any giant radioactive lizards or dragons destroying Tokyo with their fire breath! Those were actors and Godzilla was just a man in a big rubber suit. We like to tell stories of tragedy but where we ultimately win in the end."

Allora nodded and gave him another one of her small, cryptic smiles.

Thinking over her words, Mitchell decided that would explain how stressed out she appeared during the movie. He couldn't imagine watching Godzilla and thinking it was some sort of documentary. But then she spoke as if she would have expected to see dragons. Who was this woman? He was both freaked out and drawn to her at the same time. She was definitely not like the girls he usually met up with through dating apps.

"Well, listen, it's getting kind of late. I can take you home if you want. My car is just around the corner in the parking lot. Or we can call you an Uber if you're more comfortable."

She watched him for a long moment and he wasn't sure if he'd said something to upset her. A pained look passed across her face just then. She suddenly looked very tired.

"Hey, are you okay? Do you need me to call someone?"

She visibly shook and, for a moment, he thought he saw her eyes moisten slightly, but she inhaled sharply and squeezed her eyelids shut. When she opened them she was back to herself once again.

"Yes, I would like if you can be taking me home."

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a well-folded piece of paper. "Are you knowing this place?"

He didn't recognize the street name but the GPS should be able to find it easily enough.

"Sure, yeah. Follow me."

As they pulled out of the parking lot and sped down the street, Mitchell saw her tense up in the passenger seat. She probably hasn't had much experience with cars, he reminded himself. He kept his speed a little under the limit and sure enough, she relaxed. A little, anyway.

"We should be at your place in about twenty minutes," he told her. She nodded while looking out the window, taking in the shops that lined so many of the streets in this part of town.

"Your world is being so bright," she said quietly. "People are walking with no fear of the darkness."

"Well, there's crime here, of course. There's crime everywhere. There are places you definitely should not go at night, places that are dangerous even for the police."

"But there are being no creatures of the darkness. There is only being other people. No monsters like in your moo-vie." She looked at him then. "Living here is being easy, I think. Not fighting every day."

"I guess so. It's easier than some other places. There are wars going on all the time, people suffering and dying from not enough food, no medicine, things like that. But you're right. No creatures of the darkness. At least not in this part of the world. People can be pretty shitty all on their own, though"

She didn't answer after that and they rode in silence the rest of the way. She looked at him several times during the short ride across town. The GPS was taking them down Baseline toward South Phoenix, a part of town where Mitchell knew there were a lot of older single-family homes. Not the nicest area but it shouldn't be a problem. He wondered what it must be like for her to have grown up the way she did and then to be in Phoenix of all places. She must have been terrified. He tried to probe a little more about her past but she didn't appear to want to talk. After a few failed questions, he gave up. He could see something was weighing on her. Maybe it was sensory overload. She'd clearly been sheltered her whole life and she'd had a big night.

A short time later Mitchell made a right onto her street and pulled up in front of her house. It was a small ranch-style single-family home, just like the dozen or so other houses that ran up and down the block. Through the glow of a lonely street lamp he could see the yard was in bad shape with scrub grass sprouting out randomly from the hard-packed dirt. The garage door, badly in need of a paint job, was down and the empty driveway was cracked in several places. One window was boarded up with plywood and no lights were on.

"Is this..." He scanned the house and looked at her. "Is this your place?" He had trouble seeing a woman like her living in a place like this. She looked like she belonged in one of those pricey condos where models hung out between fashion shows in Paris and New York. Didn't the Amish communities provide them with enough money to live relatively comfortably while they were on Rumspringa? This place was a dump.

She looked at him for a moment and there was a painful intensity to her eyes. "Mitchell... Would you like to be coming inside with me? There is something I am wanting to talk to you about."

"Oh shit!" Mitchell thought to himself. "Here it comes. The pitch."

Under normal circumstances, he would jump at the chance to go inside anywhere with a woman like her but something was niggling in the back of his mind. He didn't know this woman. Didn't know the first thing about her, really. She'd been evasive all night, dodging his questions and now she wanted him to go inside? Was this a cult thing?

"Listen, Allora, I think you're beautiful and, even though you've hardly talked about yourself at all, I suspect you're a fascinating person with some stories to tell. I'll give you my number and maybe we can meet again, but I don't think it's a good idea for me to go inside. Not tonight."

Allora looked away from him then and she was clearly struggling with something. He felt instantly protective of her. Maybe she was in some sort of trouble.

"Hey, are you okay? Do you need me to take you somewhere else? Honestly, this house doesn't look very safe."

She looked back to him then and her hand reached across the center console and found his. Her skin was cool and he could feel calluses on her hands as her fingers wrapped around his. She'd done hard work at some point in her life.

"Please, Mitchell. If you are coming in with me I promise I can be explaining. I will be answering your questions. There is being something you must see."

There was such a pleading in her eyes that it almost broke Mitchell's heart. Her fingers gripped his and she was strong. He could feel the strength in her hand and it surprised him. Mitchell was no slouch, he worked out, but it felt like she could snap his fingers if she wanted to. He turned and looked back at the house and then back at her.

"This is so stupid," he thought. "This is crazy."

He didn't know this woman. This beautiful, enchanting woman. This woman with purple eyes who'd never had a cheeseburger and didn't know what a movie was. This woman who was looking at him with such intensity and desperation that he'd already decided he would fight for her. Even if he didn't yet realize it himself.

"Alright," he said. "I'll go in with you."

Relief washed over her features.

"But look, if you kill me and harvest my kidneys I'm going to be really upset. Just so you know. I'll haunt you. Like for real."

She laughed then. It was a short, clipped thing but he found he wanted to hear it again. "I will not be killing you, Mitchell. Only I am wanting to talk to you and show you something. From my homeland."

"Don't go in her house. Don't do it! This is super weird. She's super weird! This is how people get sucked into cults or human trafficked!"

"Okay," Mitchell said, his voice resigned to his fate. "But I warned you. I really will haunt you. Like forever. You'll never pee in peace again."

She gave him a reassuring smile and exited the car. He took out his phone and shot a quick text to Andy with the address and instructions that if he didn't hear from him later to call the police. At least if she did kill him, the cops would have a place to start looking for his body.

Slipping it back in his pocket he stepped out of the car and walked up to where Allora was standing on the sidewalk. The street was quiet around them and a cool breeze was blowing down off the mountains to the south, a real rarity at this time of the year. He could see some lights on in the other houses up and down the block. Someone was playing some music in their backyard and the faint sounds of Mexican polka drifted to his ears. The air smelled like baked asphalt and hot sand.

"After you," he said.

She nodded and began walking to the house. In his pocket, his phone buzzed. It was Andy.

"Dude, wtf? Are you serious? What are you doing?"

He was about to tap out a quick reply when he walked into Allora's back. She had stopped halfway up the walk to her front door. Her body was rigid. As he looked around he saw figures emerging from the shadows on either side of the house. Two from the left and one from the right. The one on the right was huge. He looked like he was at least 6' 5" and all of that was muscle. The other two looked to be equally solid but more of a size with him. All of them were wearing long trench coats.

They stopped about ten feet away forming a rough semi-circle around Mitchell and Allora as they stood just at the edge of the glow of the street lamp. The big one on the right spoke then.

"Doh lahg ven felleye set Allora De Annen. Matrey vosh candelay un setra lar."

Mitchell peered at the big man speaking. He had a deep, grating voice like rocks in a tumbler. His face was still in shadow but Mitchell could make out a little of it. There was something off about his features. His face was broad and flat and his lower jaw looked like it protruded too far. And was that a... a tusk sticking up from a lower lip?

"Um... Allora? Are these friends of yours?"

She didn't answer. Instead, she spoke to the big man.

"Then you have come here to be dying," she hissed.

"Woah, woah. What the hell is going on?" Mitchell said. "You guys need to back off!"

He tried to put some weight behind his words but if this got physical he knew they were in trouble. He was in good shape and he could throw a punch but he didn't think it would matter much against three of them. And in this neighborhood, no one would bother calling the cops until their bodies were already cold.

The two on the left chuckled and one of them said something Mitchell couldn't understand, which only brought more laughter.

Allora turned her head slightly back towards him without taking her eyes off the men in front.

"When I am telling you, run for the door!"

Her voice was tight and there was an unmistakable note of command to it.

"Allora, what is going on?"

She didn't answer, focusing her full attention back on the three men in front. There was a sound in the air, a faint whisper of metal on metal, and the big man on the right pulled a sword from under his coat. An honest-to-god sword! It was long and the polished metal glinted off the yellow glow of the street light behind them.

"Goleck des vosh palen," The big man said. Clearly, he was some sort of leader. Mitchell had no idea what he was saying but he could sense a certain finality to his voice. A chill ran down his spine.

"Ohhh fuck," he thought. "I'm going to fucking die. From a sword!"

In front of him, he saw Allora's hands spread to the side and she had a long blade in each one that she'd pulled from somewhere. Probably what she was reaching for all night, he thought. They weren't as long as the Big, Dark, and Ugly's swords but they were longer than Mitchell's forearms. And they looked wickedly sharp.

"De nah," she said, her voice carrying an equal amount of finality to it. Suddenly there was a prickling along his skin and Allora flung her hand out toward the two men on the left while her attention was focused on the big man on the right. Mitchell saw a flash of light from in front of Allora but couldn't see where it came from. It was bright, almost like a camera flash bulb. He saw a rippling of the air that extended from her arm and flowed toward the two men who had begun to draw their own swords.

Before they could extract them fully, the ripple hit both of them and they were thrown back. With a startled cry, they were actually lifted off their feet and thrown through the air a good meter or two before striking the ground hard and rolling into the front wall of the house.

Mitchell hardly had time to process what he was seeing when Allora leapt forward and rushed the big man, blades held out at the ready.

"Jesus, what the fuck?" Mitchell cried out.

There was a flurry of slashes from her blades as the big man staggered back from the ferocity of her attack. He nearly lost his footing as he was driven from the packed earth of the front yard onto the uneven surface of the cracked driveway. His single blade moved in lightning-fast arcs as he tried to deal with the glinting wall of death she'd created with her shorter knives.

Allora spared him a brief glance then and shouted over her shoulder, "Suteck! Suteck osh ifni!"

Mitchell had no idea what she'd just said but remembered her instructions. That sounded like 'run' to him. Not sparing a second to see if he obeyed, Allora turned her attention back on the big man and the clang of steel on steel filled the night air once more. To his left, he could see the other two struggling to right themselves. Whatever hit them had knocked them senseless.

He raced to the door as a deep cry of pain came from the big man Allora was fighting. There was another flash of light, this one not as bright as the first one, but Mitchell didn't stop to see what was going on. He slammed into the front door and started working the knob. Surprisingly, it opened. He rushed inside and heard footsteps just behind him. Fearing one of the attackers he turned and prepared to slam it shut when he saw Allora racing up the walk towards him. He stepped aside quickly and she moved through the door. He could see she was bleeding from the side of her head.

"Bekyuh!" She gave him a push to the side and nearly shoved him into a wall. Holy shit, she was strong!

She slammed the door shut and only then did Mitchell see what was on the backside. It was etched with some kind of chalk or paint with intricate designs that seemed to pull his eyes in. They swirled out in complex geometric shapes and the lines crossed over onto the door frame. It looked almost like some sort of spider web with strange symbols drawn along the edges.

Allora reached into a pocket and brought out a small jewel. It was dark in the house but there was enough ambient light to pick up the tell-tale glint of a cut diamond, emerald, or whatever it was. With practiced efficiency, she took one of the gemstones out of the headband she wore and put in the new one. She dropped the old stone to the floor without a second thought and then placed her hand inside one of the shapes on the door. The stone in her headband flashed again and Mitchell saw light race out of her fingers and along the patterns carved into the door. The symbols glowed with a yellow-orange radiance and then went dark.

"Jesus fuck," he said out loud. "Allora what the hell is going on?"