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James Carstairs sat at a desk in the library of the Shanghai Institute, the place he called home. His nose was buried in a book on runes helpful during battle, his dark hair falling over his eyes. There was one rune he was trying to learn, but no matter how he drew it on the paper beside him, he couldn’t get it just right.
The door to the library creaked open. “Jem?” a man’s voice called. Jem’s father walked in, his blond hair catching on the afternoon sunlight. Jem and his English father looked different in so many ways, with Jem’s appearances taking more of his Chinese mother’s looks. However, Jem was able to inherit his father’s sparkling dark blue eyes. His father walked over to the desk and settled himself into a chair beside his son. “How’s it going?”
“I can’t get this rune right,” Jem said, frustrated.
“It’s all right.” Jem’s father patted his head. “You’re still young, you know; you’ll have many years to get it right.”
“I’m eleven,” Jem whined. “Don’t I need to know this by now?”
Before his father could respond, a woman’s scream echoed through the hallway outside. Jem’s father’s face visibly paled. He turned to his son and said, “Jem, I need you to stay here.” He shot up out of his chair and ran to the door.
“Father?” Jem called.
“Hide, James, hide!”
Horrified—Jem’s parents only called him James when they were mad with him or when they were panicked—Jem abandoned his book and paper and ran behind a large bookshelf, curling himself up in an attempt to conceal himself. He hadn’t mastered glamours yet, and wished he did. Through a gap in the books, he saw the door burst open a second time, and something horrifying came in, followed by his struggling parents. “Where is your child?” a voice, low and menacing, demanded. Jem gasped and tried to get a better look at the scene unfolding in front of him. If he angled himself just so, he was able to see his mother, an angry look on her face. The person—if it was, indeed, a person; Jem couldn’t be sure—who led the way in earlier was nowhere to be seen.
“He’s not here,” Jem’s mother snarled.
The sound of hard shoes made click-clack noises across the floor, then came the sound of flipping pages. Turning himself, Jem could see through the crack the same horrifying creature who entered the room earlier holding his runes book and flipping through. The creature shut the book and read the gold letters on the cover: Important Battle Runes for Training Shadowhunters. The book fell on the table as the creature studied the page Jem had been scribbling the same rune on for the past half hour. The page floated to the ground as the creature said, in the same low and menacing voice Jem heard earlier, “You lied. These items tell me otherwise.” The creature turned to one of its followers and yelled, “Find me the child!”
Jem turned around to run, but it wasn’t long before he crashed into something. He looked up in horror to see a man with a skull head and a long black cloak. Too terrified to move, Jem found himself being picked up by the skull-headed man and being brought over to the creature. He found his senses again and began thrashing against the skull-headed man, but it seemed to have no effect. “I found him, Yanluo,” the man said.
“Very good, ” the creature replied. Jem peered at the creature closely. It had horrible red glowing eyes, but otherwise looked very human, wearing an odd Chinese hat. Jem remembered a time when he was younger, when his mother had told him stories about a demon nest she’d burned out. “You could do that someday too, Jian,” she’d said, calling Jem by his Chinese name. She said she’d killed a bunch of the demon’s offspring, and the demon’s name was…Yanluo.
“Yanluo!” Jem exclaimed. The Greater Demon smiled at him, flashing its horrible teeth. “How did you get here?”
“Simple. There was a weak spot in your silly little ward, so I tunneled in. Now, enough of these questions. I have all that I need. Follow me!” Yanluo led them out of the library, the skull-headed men holding Jem and his parents as well as two others followed in suit. Yanluo opened the grand doors to the Institute’s great room, and the skull headed men tied the family to chairs. Appearing to be satisfied with its work, Yanluo sent one of its servants to get something.
“Why are you here, Yanluo?” Jem’s mother said. His father glared at the Greater Demon. Jem, whose chair was set up to face his side-by-side parents, said nothing.
“Revenge,” Yanluo said simply. “You killed my offspring, now I’ll hurt yours.”
“No!” Jem’s mother screamed. “Leave my son alone!”
“Don’t hurt him!” Jem’s father added.
Jem, surprised, momentarily lost the power of speech.
“Unlikely,” Yanluo said. The servant returned with a container filled with a fine silvery powder. Yanluo took it in its hands and said, almost absently, “This is demon poison. Shall we see what happens when your son ingests it?”
“No!” Jem’s mother screamed again, struggling in her chair. Ignoring her, Yanluo walked up to Jem. Its hands painfully grasped his face, forcing his mouth open. The poison went tumbling down his mouth, stinging and burning his throat on its way down. Jem screamed, but his lungs burned from the effort. He bent over and tried to throw up, but nothing came out. Yanluo laughed at its work.
“Jem!” his father called. “Jem! Stay with us! James!”
“James!” his mother yelled.
The last thing Jem was consciously aware of was Yanluo’s laughter trailing it out the doors of the great room.
~*~
Jem’s dreams were filled of horror.
He stood at the heart of Shanghai, but something was out of place. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it; everything was seemingly normal. People were bustling about the streets, talking quietly amongst each other. He turned around in circles in the square that he stood, trying to figure out what it was that he thought was wrong.
The scent hit Jem first. The sour tang of blood filled the air, and Jem found himself scurrying up the side of a nearby building. When he turned to face the street below him, he saw a giant wave of red liquid pouring through the streets. Blood. People screamed but to no avail. The wave of blood, bright scarlet in the summer sun, swept up everyone in its path, and Jem watched as people drowned in the blood. He felt sick watching the scene, but when he turned around on the rooftop, he saw scarlet washing through every street, every alleyway in Shanghai, his precious city drowning in rivers of blood.
That was indeed what it looked like. The winding streets turned into winding rivers filled with thick red blood, gleaming in the sun…
Suddenly he was transported somewhere else—he didn’t know how, but he wound up on yet another rooftop in an unknown city. The same thing that happened in Shanghai happened again: blood poured through the streets. Jem was just in time to see a child of no more than three or four drowning before he was whisked off to another city. The cycle repeated, and all Jem could see was thick scarlet blood, all he could hear was the liquid swirling the streets, all he could think of was blood, blood, blood...
~*~
With a gasp, Jem jerked his head back. He was still in the great room, but moonlight poured in through the floor-to-ceiling glass panes. He saw his parents, both awake and alert. His mother spoke first. “Jem,” she said. “Are you all right?”
“I-I’m—” Jem coughed, and blood spewed from his mouth.
“Jem!” his father said. “Jem, what happened?”
“Blood,” Jem said weakly.
“Blood?”
“Everywhere.”
“Everywhere!”
Jem nodded weakly. He felt a tiredness that coursed through his bones, though he wasn’t sure why. Footsteps echoed down the hallway and Yanluo opened the door again. Another skull-headed man trailed it, a box in its bony hands.
“Hello, hello,” the demon said gleefully. “Guess who’s back.” It ran its fingers through Jem’s blood on the floor with a satisfying sweep.
“Stop it, Yanluo,” Jem’s mother spat.
Yanluo ignored her and approached Jem, wasting no time in giving him the poison again. “And guess who’s gone!” It laughed and left the room as Jem went through a coughing fit again. He coughed and coughed until he knocked himself out.
~*~
This time Jem had returned to the Shanghai square. People were again milling about the streets, though the blood that was there the last time Jem visited was gone. He braced himself for the barrage of blood he thought would come, but all he heard was the click-clack noises of metal against the stone sidewalks. He looked up, and he felt his eyes bulging in horror. Great metal creatures, the size of a building, that looked like huge spiders, were striding around the streets, gobbling people in their wake.
Jem knew that he ought to use his Shadowhunter training to save the people, but he was too in shock to move. Too shocked to move even when one of the spiders approached him. Approached him like Yanluo had done moments earlier. Jem could only scream. Then, his feet began moving and he began to run.
He tore through the Shanghai streets, screaming, “Zou kai! Zou kai!” People around him parted easily to his calls to move, and shrieking when they saw the giant metal spider. However, the metal spider was faster, catching up to Jem. He ran endlessly, his legs screaming in protest and his lungs on fire...
~*~
Jem awoke and saw his parents staring at him again. Both appeared to have bruises on their bodies, but Jem couldn’t be sure how they got there. “Jem?” his father whispered.
Jem winced, his sides hurt. He felt the poison swimming around in his veins and shut his eyes. It hurt to do anything.
“Jem, tell me you’re all right,” his mother pleaded. Jem could only nod. He felt like giving up. He felt like death was only inches away from him, and he felt that he’d gladly jump into its arms. “Jem,” his mother repeated sternly. “You are not all right, I can tell that from here.”
“So this is what happens when he gets demon poison!” Yanluo said, coming into the room. “I’ve always wondered, and now I know!”
“Yanluo!” Jem’s mother said through gritted teeth. “Will you not stop?”
“No, I will not,” Yanluo said seriously, feeding Jem the poison again. Jem felt his lungs flare up again as the poison travelled through every part of his body. His eyes watered from the pain, and he cried out sharply before drifting back into darkness.
~*~
Screaming.
That was all Jem could hear, the only sound that filled his ears. He heard the screaming of his dead grandparents, wailing for life. He heard the people, poverty-stricken, on the streets of London, dying and screaming. He heard all the dead people of ages past, screaming for attention of their deaths. People screaming for loved ones. People screaming for life. People screaming for revenge.
And finally, he heard his father. He was grunting through pain, though Jem didn’t know what kind of pain. Finally, his father cracked, and began screaming himself. Jem could pick out everything. Screaming for life. Screaming for opportunities he could not reach. Screaming for London. Last of all, screaming for Jem and his wife. His screams died out and blended in with the screams of everyone else.
Jem, unable to cope with all the screaming in his ears, heard another scream. He realized it was himself that was screaming, and let his wailing voice seep into the screams of the dead and dying...
~*~
When he swam back to consciousness, he couldn’t hear his father. Though his haze, he could see his father slumped over in the chair, still bound. His wrists looked slit and blood poured from multiple wounds on his body. “Father!” Jem said, but just speaking sent his lungs on fire.
“Jem?” he heard his mother say. Her voice was raw and cracked.
“Ma ma!” Jem screamed for her in Chinese. He gasped from the pain forming in his stomach, but that was even worse. The air he took in stung his throat. His stomach flared up and he tried to cough, but even that hurt.
“Jian! Oh, Jian, wo de er zi,” Jem’s mother cried. Jian. Oh, Jian, my son. Tears streaked down her face, and Jem thought about how he had never seen his mother cry.
The doors burst open, and Yanluo walked into the room. “How do you like the way I finished off your husband?” it said gleefully.
“I will kill you,” Jem’s mother vowed, “for all you’ve done to my family!”
Yanluo made some sort of scoffing noise. “From that chair? Tied up like that? I don’t think so.”
Jem’s mother struggled in her chair, but that couldn’t stop Yanluo’s routine. It walked over to Jem and did what it’d always done: clasped his face painfully, forced his mouth open, poured the demon poison in, watched in satisfaction. “Jian!” Jem’s mother screamed again. “Jian, wo de er zi, Jian!”
“Ma ma!” Jem tried to say, but his already burning throat flared up even more. “Ma—” He choked on the word. The pain was getting unbearable.
“Jian!” his mother kept screaming. Her screams followed Jem into his sleep.
~*~
“Welcome to London, Jem,” his father said.
“Father?” Jem said. “What happened to you? What did Yanluo do to you?” Jem was sure that his father was dead; he’d seen it himself.
His father simply stroked his hair like he’d done only days ago. “What Yanluo did doesn’t matter anymore Jem. I have moved on. There is nothing you can do for me.”
“But Father—”
“Hush, child. Behold, London.”
“I won’t look until you give me answers,” Jem huffed, crossing his arms and directing his gaze downwards at his crossed arms.
His father chuckled. “You were always a stubborn one, Jem,” he said affectionately. Despite himself, Jem smiled. “I’ve already told you that you cannot help me. Early death is part of a Shadowhunter life, and I have always embraced this. It is time for you to acknowledge it too. Now, come on, Jem.” He felt his father’s hand on his chin gently direct his gaze upwards. “Do this for me. Look at my beautiful, beautiful London, for perhaps you shall live here one day, too.”
Finally, Jem did look, though what he saw was anything but beautiful. Everywhere he looked, fires roared, crackled and spit. Smoke polluted the sky.
“Over there is the Westminster Abbey,” his father said proudly, pointing at a burning building. Jem saw that at one point, it must have been a very beautiful church. Now, flames ate it up. The entire building was surrounded in crackling flames. “Inside is the Pyx chamber,” his father continued. “Perhaps you will go there one day. There are Council meetings that are held there, you know.”
“Not while it’s burning, father!” Jem said, alarmed. How could his ever-observant father not notice the flames that ate up is hometown, just as Jem had seen Shanghai drowning in blood?
Ignoring him, his father said, “Over there is Blackfriars Bridge.” He pointed to a burning bridge, a railway track running through it. “Perhaps one day you will go there with a lady and enjoy the quiet that is found there. Not many people go there because of their dislike of the railway tracks, but I do believe you will enjoy it all the same.”
“It is burning, father!” Jem said through gritted teeth. Was he truly so blind?
“Oh, look, Jem!” his father said excitedly. “The London Institute!”
The Institute was taking the flames the worst. Jem’s eyes widened as he saw a part of the Institute fall off, still flaming as it hit the ground in a shower of ash and flame. “Father!” Jem screamed as his father walked in a dream-like way towards the burning Institute...
~*~
“Father!” Jem screamed when he woke, but his throat still stung. His lungs flared up, as if he were a building in burning London. He expected his mother to scream for him, but her scream never came. What happened? He could still hear her desperation from the last time he awoke. Jian! Wo de er zi, Jian! Her screams echoed in his mind, and he willed himself to look at his parents. Both were now dead. His mother’s head lolled at the side, dry blood sticking to her chin and clothes. A bloody sword lay on the ground at her feet. A sob stuck in Jem’s throat as he realized what must have happened, but it wouldn’t come out. “Ma ma,” he settled on whispering, but it still hurt. Finally, the death of both his parents in just two days took its toll on Jem. He began screaming. He screamed past his burning throat, past his flaming lungs, past the hallucinations that haunted him.
“Ma ma!” he screamed. “Ba ba!” Tears streamed down his face, and he coughed blood. He refused to care. “Ma ma! Ba ba!” Giving up screaming for his parents—like his father said in his dream, early death was part of a Shadowhunter life—he screamed about death. “Wei shen me wo hai mei si? Wo ying gai si! Wo xiang gen wo de ma ma ba ba na yang si! Wo xiang si! Rang wo si!” Why am I not dead yet? I should die! I want to die like my parents! I want to die! Let me die!
“What’s going on here?” someone said, kicking open a door. Through his tears and screaming, Jem could see nothing. He just kept screaming, “Wo xiang si! Wo xiang si!”
He felt something slicing the ropes that bound him to the chair. Strong arms picked him up, and he struggled in the arms’ grasp. “An jing,” a feminine voice whispered. Quiet. Too tired to fight, Jem obeyed.