Chapter Text
She had been staring at the off-white wall for a full thirty minutes, noticing every speck of dust, every wear and tear that had gathered there over the past years. Dried spots of dirt, mold and cobwebs plastered the ceiling and there was an objectionable odour in the air she could not describe.
Wrinkling her nose in disgust, she tried not to imagine the kinds of people who might have taken shelter here over the past years and the substances these strangers had left behind.
Regardless of the rundown state the place was indisputably in, Diana was still pondering over the essential question of how she had travelled half the globe within the blink of an eye. Quite literally, in fact, because she had only stepped through the front door of her London apartment and suddenly found herself standing in the middle of a tiny storeroom stuffed to the brim with old cardboard boxes. Irritated and thinking she had accidentally taken a wrong door, she had turned around to step out of the room only to find that its exit now led to what she assumed to be an old office of sorts.
She had searched the place for any indication as to her current whereabouts but the metal door connecting her to the outside world was locked. She had tried to alert possible passers-by to her predicament by screaming her lungs out for several minutes, before finally admitting defeat when she realised that she was probably well out of earshot.
Her last and only hope was that the owner of the makeshift bed she’d discovered in one of the abandoned offices would be returning some time soon. Preferably with food and drinks and an answer as to how she’d gotten here in the first place. If not – well, she didn’t even want to think about what would happen if no-one showed up…
The orange beams of sunlight shining through the small, elongated windows were telling her that it was probably close to sunset, meaning she should better start searching for a source of light if she didn’t want to end up sitting in the dark later on.
With an exasperated sigh, Diana heaved herself off the ground and dusted off her navy blue jeans. Perhaps sitting on concrete for too long hadn’t been the best of decisions, she mused, stretching her aching legs.
“Well, I better start looking then,” Diana said to no-one in particular and set off in the opposite direction, back to where she’d discovered the little hideout.
To her great relief, whoever had set up camp in the warehouse had had the genius idea to connect a chain of lights to a power outlet nearby, its coloured lightbulbs illuminating the room in a happy mix of blue, red, green and yellow. Apparently, it was also the only working outlet in the entire building.
There was no clock in the warehouse, so Diana had no way of telling the exact time of day but she was tired of idly sitting around until her mysterious stranger hopefully showed up. With a huff, she began to rearrange the old furniture in the office to make the place more comfortable for two people.
The last metal container left in the room, about her height, proved to be a tough one. It’s drawers were locked so Diana had no way of removing their contents, meaning that she had to somehow push its entire weight out the door and over to the wall. Throwing herself at the dusty container with all her strength, however, only resulted in an ugly dark-blue bruise forming on her right shoulder; the metal monstrosity hadn’t moved an inch.
“I’m trying to redecorate,” she tried to explain with her hands on her hips, glaring at the furniture in question. “You could at least pretend to like what I’m doing and play along! It would make things much easier for me, you know.”
But the metal container remained silent – not that she had expected it to reply in the first place. Sighing, Diana tried again; to no avail.
She leaned her forehead agains the cool metal surface, both hands pressed flatly against the upper drawer, and waited for her breathing to calm down. The last time she’d moved furniture of this size had been seven years ago when she’d moved into her apartment in London; and she’d had help from four grown-up men back then. Now she was doing all the heavy-lifting on her own.
“Why did I think this was a good idea again?” She asked, pursing her lips before nodding. “Yes, right, boredom.”
Diana hated to sit idle, knowing fully well that the world around her wasn’t going to wait for her to catch up. She wasn’t necessarily a social person and her circle of friends was limited to five really close ones that she’d known since her first day of school, but not doing anything at all was making her jittery. Most of the time, she would take to reading or drawing and if there was one thing Diana was proud of, it was the leather-bound sketchbook her foster mother had given her for her twelfth birthday.
While she loved a good story and had tons of ideas for possible spinoffs or fanfictions, she was not a gifted writer herself and belonged to the quiet sort of reader who could sometimes be persuaded to comment on especially well-written works.
When it came to drawing, however, Diana prided herself on creating sketches that were so life-like that they could easily be mistaken for photographs. Unfortunately, it was also the only thing she was really good at and could otherwise be described as ordinary, boarding on wallflower-like.
“Who are you?”
Diana let out a high-pitched scream and jumped away from the metal container as if she’d burned herself. In the doorway not three feet way stood young girl dressed in a black leather jacket and simple blue jeans, flaming red hair pulled back into a messy pony tail. She stared at her like Diana had just invaded the secret lair no-one was supposed to know about.
“I – ah – I… Hi, I’m Diana,” she replied, a little bit embarrassed about not having noticed the girl right away. Apparently, she’d been so lost in her own thoughts that she hadn’t heard her approach at all.
Squinting her eyes, the girl looked her over with crossed arms and Diana felt oddly naked under her gaze. Oddly, because she estimated the girl to be around sixteen, maybe seventeen years old, which meant that she herself was almost a decade older and shouldn’t be nervous around a teenager.
“What’s your name?” Diana tried when the girl just kept looking at her.
Silence. So much for getting some answers…
“Listen,” Diana sighed, running a hand through her messy hair. “I’ve had a pretty rough day, I don’t know where I am or how I got here,” she explained, hoping that it would ease some tension if she was being honest with the girl, “I haven’t eaten since ten in the morning and, frankly, I’m exhausted. I’m not expecting you to drop your guard and trust me, but I could really need a little help. You’re the only person I’ve seen since leaving work this afternoon and – “
“Bloom,” the other girl suddenly said and Diana could see some of the tension leaving her body as she leaned against the doorway.
“Pardon?”
“My name is Bloom,” the girl repeated.
Diana nodded. Somehow, matching a face to a name made your opponent seem much less frightening.
“Do you… do you live here?” Diana asked hesitantly and pointed at the makeshift bed behind her.
Bloom shook her head. “No, I only come here to sleep. Sometimes.”
Judging from the tight tone in her voice, Diana suspected that this was a topic better left untouched, so she attempted an encouraging smile instead to let Bloom know she wasn’t pressing the matter.
“So,” Diana began again when the silence stretched out between them. “Where exactly is here?”
It might seem like an odd question and going by Bloom’s expression, it definitely was. In this situation, however, it was an important one for the woman who’d wanted nothing more than to enter her apartment after a long, exhausting day at work, only to find herself trapped in an abandoned warehouse.
“Gardenia, California,” Bloom replied, then added with a frown. “How can you not know where you are?”
Diana felt the air drain out of her lungs.
“America?” She asked incredulously, shaking her head. “That’s not possible. It’s not –“
She swallowed. How on god’s green earth had she gone from London to the US through a simple door?
“Why wouldn’t it be possible?” Bloom asked, watching her suspiciously. “We’re in the twenty first century, it’s not like you can’t travel to other continents, you know…”
“No, I mean yes, but…” Diana rubbed her temples, trying to remember if anything out of the ordinary had occurred to her this day. “I woke up, I went to work, I had lunch at Brady’s,” she recounted her steps, “I got into an argument with Liv about organising our next team meeting, I took the bus home… that was at three-thirty pm… I opened the door… and then I was here…”
Bloom was still watching her like she’d lost her marbles.
“I mean I’ve never heard of people confusing a warehouse with their home,” she said, trying to be helpful. “But maybe, I don’t know, maybe you got off at the wrong stop…”
“I’m making an awful first impression, aren’t I?” Diana chuckled darkly and sighed for what felt like the thousandths time.
“Well, you’re not trying to kill me,” Bloom shrugged and walked over to the makeshift bed. “Besides, there are worse things than ending up at the wrong house.”
“That would be true,” Diana replied with a half-smile. “If my house wasn’t located in London.”
“London?” Bloom said with raised eyebrows.
She then frowned deeply and Diana noticed that she was nestling with a giant piece of a ring on her finger. It was golden, sun-shaped and there was a strange aura emanating off it.
Now it was Diana’s turn to frown; rings didn’t have auras or whatever it was she was receiving from it, they were cold, lifeless pieces of jewellery.
Her eyes left Bloom’s hands – and landed on something even stranger than a glowing accessory.
“Bloom?” She asked carefully, not tearing her gaze away from the hunched-over form on the other side of the glass window between this office and the next one. “Does someone else live here?”
“What? Why?”
Diana slowly nodded towards the silhouette standing across the other room. Bloom heaved herself off the makeshift bed and followed her gaze. Suddenly, the man or whatever it was swirled around and Diana found herself looking into a pair of glowing white eyes.
“What the hell –“ Bloom grabbed her arm and pulled her down next to her, a panicked expression on her face.
“I take that as a no,” Diana surmised, taken aback by the other girl’s drastic reaction. “Are we not supposed to be here?”
Bloom didn’t reply, she simply shook her head and motioned for her to be quiet. Diana frowned. Had Bloom met the guy before? And what the heck was wrong with his eyes?
A few seconds passed without incident. Carefully, Bloom raised her head a little to peek over the ledge – crash.
The window shattered into a million pieces and they were both covered in tiny splinters of glass. Not knowing what was happening, Diana let herself be dragged along by Bloom as they raced out of the room and down the corridor. Behind them, she could hear a terrible screech followed by a menacing snarl and she knew without a doubt that whatever was chasing them was definitely not human.
“This way!” Bloom shouted, never letting go of Diana’s arm.
They turned left, burst through an unlocked door, around another corner – and almost bumped into a woman Diana had never seen before but Bloom was apparently familiar with.
“Don’t stop now,” the woman said firmly, pointing at a brightly light sign with the words “EXIT” on it.
Bloom nodded without question, pulling Diana with her as they darted for the door. It swung open – how Diana had no idea – and they found themselves out in the open, face to face with three other girls. Worry was evidently written on their faces but Diana was more interested in the happenings back in the warehouse.
She whirled around just in time to see something lunge at their strange saviour before the door closed on them with a loud bang. Panting heavily, she opened her mouth, then closed it again with a shake of her head. What had the hell had just happened in there!?
“Are you okay?” One of girls asked, her dark eyes scanning Bloom worriedly.
“Yeah. Yeah,” the red-head panted. “I think so. What the hell was that thing?”
It was the girl on the left who answered. “I’m pretty sure it’s called a Burned One.”
Diana noticed that apart from Bloom, they all had British accents much like her own. She didn’t know why this fact seemed to calm her down so much, especially after what she’d just witnessed, but it did.
“What’s a… a Burned One?” Diana interrupted their reunion and suddenly found herself the centre of attention.
“Who’s she?” The first girl asked warily instead of giving an answer.
Bloom turned to look at her. “Her name is Diana,” she explained still a little bit out of breath. “We just met in the warehouse.”
“And just took her with you?” The girl asked incredulously. “To the Otherworld? She’s human!”
The third girl, dressed in a red leather jacket with her dark hair pinned up in two tiny buns, was watching her intensely and Diana couldn’t help but notice that her eyes seemed to glow purple. Distracted by the first girl’s comment, she tore her gaze away from them.
“What do you mean human?” She exclaimed with a frown. “Of course, I’m human! And so are you!”
The dark-eyed girl snorted and was about to give a retort, when the door to the warehouse opened once again and Diana got her first real glimpse at the woman who’d saved them.