ARROW’S POV Well, now is the time to get a contract, I say with excitement and anticipation, surveying a sea of faces, all shining with hopeful expectation. "Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you a challenge," I say, words lingering in the air, promising something extraordinary, something to which they could respond with skill. The pause was meant for effect. The silence that ensued was thick; the applicants leaned in, eyes fixed on mine, their faces full of curiosity and intrigue. "This is a photo of the legendary 'Echoes of the Night' by the rare artist Julian Backward," I continued, a sense of reverence creeping into my tone as I unveiled the enigma posed before them. Another silence fell, broken only by the patchy humming sounds of anticipation as the applicants awaited what would come next from my lips. "The original has long gone from our world for many decades, and all we have now is just an incomplete and cryptic message left behind by the artist," I further described, pa
ARROW’S POV "Okay, thank you very much," said the man whose voice was like a dingy summer breeze, and then he nodded to the crowd. But with the sudden laughter and chatter resuming in the room, the pair of strange-man-like eyes remained gazed on my face. It seemed as if he was studying me, and his expression was unreadable like a mask hiding true feelings. The very anticipation electrified the air, the crowd was like one huge buzzing hive of bees hovering around a sweet flower. The ambience I could sense-bright smiles and exaggerated nods were everywhere as I scanned the room, like a sailor negotiating turbulent waters-even an iota of doubt was significantly possible, and I felt the heavy mantle of responsibility settle on my shoulders. "I realize that this is no small task; yet one also knows there is someone, with the talent and creativity, who could certainly breathe life into 'Echoes in the Night,'" the voice had a clarity and confidence, almost bright, like the peal of a bell
ARROW’S POV "This is interesting," the strange man nods with a hint of a smile, like the first brush of dawn. "I'm not afraid of challenges," he says strongly, like a boulder anchored firmly in the wind. The crowd erupts in excitement, with several cheering aloud, while some stood in quiet awe, like excitement flooding the room. I am studying the strange kind of person, trying to see through him-like detectives on a manhunt. Narrowing my eyes, I try to read him, like he is a challenge waiting to be solved. What drives him? What motivates him to take on this kind of challenge? "Fine, then," I said, still smiling-most apparently like a flower blossoming in full sunlight. "Let us proceed. You have one week, and no more than that, to carry out the experiment 'Echoes in the Night,' " I exclaim, barely able to stay calm, like a host who had just announced the winning contestant on a quiz show. "If you succeed, you will obtain both the reward and the job offered at our company," I challen
ARROW’S POV It was an electric moment, with all six contestants going their separate ways, caught in their own thoughts. The challenge loomed over them like the sword of Damocles, its edge positively glowing. They knew they were going to enter a crucible in the next seven days, a test of their creativity, skill, and resolve. The odd one joined the tease of questioning. "I'll be watching your progress," came the low voice of the man whose words dripped with enigma. He held their eyes with an intensity that gave the rest a shiver. "I'll be waiting for you to reveal your masterpieces." Then he blended in with the crowd, leaving the others to ponder the stranger's identity and his true intent. A benefactor? A critic? Something altogether more sinister? The other five challengers exchanged apprehensive glances as torturous questions raced through their minds. What was he after? What did he want from them? What kind of masterpiece was he expecting? Parting ways, the six went back to the
ARROW’S POV But that was much later, after the crash echoed through the studio only to be followed by a shattering sound. The man's eyes opened wide at the noise and before he realized what was happening, he raced towards the sound. I fastened my pace and hurried behind him, my heart thundering in expectation. We both reached what would be the source of the noise: one of the challengers' canvases had fallen off its perch, and the artwork lay shattered on the floor. But there was even more. Beyond the ravaged canvas, at the other side of the wall, there was another, it looked like, conjured out of thin air. It was a magnificent mural, bright with color, and it had an intricate pattern. His eyes would fly open with wonder and turn into my face with a quizzical look. "What has gone on just like this?" he asked, wonder mixed in his voice. I shook my head in similar confusion. "I do not know," I said. "But this competition got a whole lot more interesting." While we pondered th
ARROW’S POV Now as I sat in this atmosphere of applause from the audience, one of the investors lifted his hand, and I nodded for him to go ahead. "I have something to say," he said to all present, his voice a steady confident exclamation with some enthusiasm. "In fact, I want to take this opportunity to say that Arrow Company is where your money can grow. Indeed, most investors should invest in this company." His words left me with some proud excitement. Here was my venture, Arrow Craft Company, getting noticed by investors, and there inevitably appeared to be something big in the offing. "Many thanks, as always," I said with a smile to the investor. "I'm quite excited to hear that you are looking at our company. My worker did a fantastic job showing off our vision and values." The applause had died down, and I inhaled deeply to carry on with the prepared proceedings. "Now is the time for the main event," I announced with a smile to the audience. "It is time to call the chall
ARROW’S POV I kept asking him even when the dread kept building within me. "What about your family? Are there any, by the way?" He sank back, leaning back into the chair, his eyes glittering with laughter in my presence. "My family is... complicated," he said, as though they were from a different... strand of existence. His answers began to sound like stuff out of a fantasy novel, but I was sure he kept something hidden. Or perhaps he was just messing with me. Either way, I was determined to get to the bottom of it. I leaned forward, curious. "A different strand of existence?" I echoed, trying to figure out whether he meant it the way it sounded. "You mean like, parallel universe or something?" He nodded slightly, the smile returning to his lips. "Something like that. Let's just say my family's... history is complicated and not really bound by the same rules as this reality." I rubbed my temples, feeling a slight headache coming on. This talk was getting weirder by the minute. "
ARROW’S POV The eerie words of the man sent shivers down my spine as I considered how serious the matter was. I had to react extremely fast to protect the company and its people from this wild man, who seemed almost supernatural in his ability to get into our deepest secrets. I immediately called the top executives for an emergency meeting to discuss the problem and see what alternative I could give to the company. While we all gathered around the conference table, one could almost touch the tension. "We have to get rid of him," said one of the executive members in a straining voice tinged with desperation. "He is a liability, and we cannot have him around threatening our existence." Another executive nodded her head in agreement. "But how do we get rid of somebody that has... abilities like that?" she pondered, having already given a second thought to the very same question. We talked about everything from trying to understand this strange man's powers to calling for help from the
KALMIA’S POV He hesitated, then shook his head. "Just be careful today, okay? With the modeling agency, I mean." I nodded, feeling a sense of trepidation. What did he know that I didn't? And what lay ahead? Entering the bathroom I felt both excitement and nervousness about my upcoming meeting with the modeling agency. Getting ready made me think about all the potential opportunities this chance might open up. My hair took on a sleek, stylish form while I applied a thin layer of makeup to bring out my natural beauty. I put on a fitted white dress that showed off my curves and then wore heeled ankle boots before taking my bag. In the mirror I gave myself one final check and felt assured in my poise. Arrow lifted his eyes from his phone to examine me when I stepped out of the bathroom. "You look stunning," he said with admiration clear in his voice. His words made me smile as gratitude filled me towards him. "Thank you, I'll do my best to leave an impression," I responded while rea
KALMIA’S POV A figure came towards me and I remained frozen in surprise. The individual moved toward me and in a quiet mysterious voice said "I have something to say Visha." I saw them and adjusted my gaze while narrowing my eyes to figure out their identity. I replied carefully saying "Alright then proceed." "Are you really Visha?" I asked, my tone laced with skepticism. They chuckled softly while their eyes glowed with amusement. With confidence etched in their voice they said "I'm not." The phrase 'I'm here to help you' contained profound meaning despite its simple structure. They spun around and departed leaving me frozen in complete silence. I felt a wave of curiosity and wonder crash over me as they disappeared into the distance. I questioned what help this mysterious person wanted to offer me. My mind spun with questions about the stranger yet they vanished after I could think nothing through leaving behind just an arrow. I stood completely still as my eyes fixated on the a
KALMIA’S POV Cold air spouted out of the rooming house. As Arrow and I stepped out of the building, I looked up upon him with a smile. "I'm glad we're in this together," I said in a mask of whispered tones. Arrow smiled back, his eyes crinkling into the corners of his face. "Me too," he replied. "We'll get through this, Kalmia. Together.” Later in the day, or rather a few hours after that, we were escorted to a safe house on the outskirts, a small building without any distinguishable traits that would catch a passer-by's attention. The official introduced the security detail assigned to us, a crack team of agents working to protect us twenty-four-seven. As we made our way and began settling inside the safe house, the unease kept hovering upstairs. There was, indeed, an inscrutable potentiality of freedom in confining oneself to a little room with complete strangers. But I had to accept it for now. Arrow seemed to have sensed my unease and wrapped his arm about me, pulling me clos
KALMIA’S POV Another big breath was drawn, as if in an attempt to calm this furious storm of emotions stirring in me. The pain of betrayal was still fresh in my mind; yet I needed to think beyond it and outside for those few hesitant souls and a few things that meant anything to me. My gaze rested on the little baby and an overwhelming love and gratitude-for-the-pain-filled-the-heart.-Having-everything, she was the only reason for me, and I had to keep her safe by all means. My mind began questioning the motive of my sister-The thought of what could have driven her into such desperation kept gnawing at me: did she have her own battles to fight and her own miseries, or was it just jealousy and spite? I would never know now, and maybe it does not matter anymore, for what matters is that I have been wronged and I need to find some way to make it right. I knew it was going to be a hard thing to do; it would require all the courage I had within me to rise above it, but I knew I wanted t
KALMIA’S POV "Aha, indeed, I will say it because I was the one who put your so-called planned career into action after it brought you down," she spat, maliciously. Visha's eyes flashed with defiance and she sneered at me. The fury surged, and my hands clenched into tight fists. But Visha wasn't done yet. "I framed everything up," she continued in a rising level of triumph tracing her voice. "I turned Jemima against you and shouted toward me, throwing her eyes like the evil beacon on top. It was like getting hit in the gut; breath taken out. "No, oooo," I screamed, throat raw and voice trembling with emotion. "Nothing could separate the things about it. Then out into the air came the loudest cry I made. Tears were rolling down in continuance because each stroke of the event hit down hard at that instant. I couldn't bear the sharpness of pain and betrayal. I couldn't take the sound of another angry word flown in my direction again, as Visha had cut me too deep. I felt as if I was losi
KALMIA’S POV Her words seemed to slice through the air like a knife, and her voice dripped with venom voicing all her discontent. "I never liked you, Kalmia," she said, looking at me with flashing eyes of fury and disdain. There was this sensation of hurt, surprise mixed with confusion as I furrowed my brows to understand the depth of her emotions. "What do you mean?" I queried in a whipser, scanning her countenance for signs of weakness. The bitterness on that face twisted into a smile that shone malignant hues in her eyes. "So you said I hurt you, and I'm apologizing now, this?" My voice had incredulity and frustration laced into it. How could she even think that I would accept that as compensation for all the damage she had done? Memories of past confrontations and betrayals rushed into my consciousness, replete with a sudden surge of fury and spite against her. Visha was a semblance of what one could have guessed-trapped deeply in her emotions, longing and thirsting for an uni
KALMIA’S POV I wait outside the cell, anxiously glancing at Mr. Isah with a pleading face while panting in anticipation, tinged with a bit of nervousness. "I'm looking forward to seeing my lost sister, Visha," I say, voice almost inaudible, spilling from my mouth like a confession. Mr. Isah inclined his head in deep understanding; his very look was sympathetic, and turned to lead me through the station, his long strides chewing up the distance into nothingness. Strong cold fluorescent light above the hub flickered and hummed, casting a glaring light on those forms. A heavy, cloying scent of disinfectant hovered in the stagnant air, mixed with a cursed faint tang of despair. My footsteps echoed down the walls as I walked with Mr. Isah into the depths of the station. When we arrived at the cell, Mr. Isah grasped the handle and pushed it open in a slow creak before stepping inside, leaving a dim light casting long shadows across the little room. "Visha", I called, my voice so sweet, l
MR ISAH’S POV I sat at the station in the dark. The soft fluorescent light above cast an eerie glow on the empty chairs and faded floor. Anticipation held my heart in its place, echoing like the drumbeat in my chest throughout my entire being. "Just wai for me, sir," I mumbled to myself with eyes turned toward the phone, where a text from Kalmia said: "I'm on my way", flashing on the screen like a light at the end of a tunnel. "Okay then," I said to myself, slumping back in the chair, a wave of relief washing through my being with the straightening of my spine on the worn-out issue. Time moved forward, and in this losing dusky space, each second was a drag for eternity. I checked my watch what would seem like a million times but felt like the hundredth. My eyes scanned the entire empty station that was growing more impatient with each passing second. The silence clamped down hard, occasionally punctuated with the creaks in the old building and traffic buzzing outside. I shifted in
MR ISAH’S POV Between walls of thickest warm air, bound by oppressive scents of sweat mingled with fear, I could hardly draw breath, and every breath that I drew seemed to carry some foreign weight crushing into my chest. Visha sat all hunched over in the wooden bench; shoulders barely perceptibly shook; her eyes looked down, refusing to meet mine, locked in mute insubordination to the unasked questions between us. A stubborn silence, thick and impenetrable, stretched between us and with every passing moment added that still very coiled tension within me. "Visha, I'm not answering any of your questions," she finally whispered, so softly it was hard to hear, like a thin thread in an oppressive hush. Although soft, the words smote me with the force of a corporeal blow, burning up the sparks of fury that had been at hand ever so low. "Then okay," I replied in said low, almost dangerous tone, "you are going to do that pen now." It was just a matter-of-fact statement, in the air of an