1 Albert Chen

The skies outside Albert's window were bright, clear and unblemished. Not even a puff of clouds nor the usual smog blocked the sun from streaming merrily in through the laminated glass, beams of light that stabbed his corneas with relish. Albert groaned and flipped away from the window-side of his mattress, the sheets and bedding conspicuously absent. He stared numbly at the box that came into view, the words "Al's Room" written in his mom's neat handwriting was scrawled across the front in permanent marker. His entire life had been hurriedly packed away into cheap, dollar store, boxes almost the second his father got home with the news.

"It's a promotion," Albert's dad had said, beaming as he trundled through the front door with armfuls of packing tape, bubblewrap and boxes.

The promotion being the rights to manage a new sales office on the east coast. An offer that Albert's dad took no time in accepting. He loved old, colonial, history and the opportunity to choose and manage the new branch office was the perfect excuse for him to move to Massachusetts, a state full of colonial history and charm. Why his father, a Chinese-American immigrant, was so interested in European colonial history and culture baffled Albert, but that was just one of the many eccentric qualities about his parents that he had come to take for granted. While his father was a history buff, the house (and now countless boxes) filled with antiques and knick-knacks from around the world, his mother had her own eccentric interests. A slender, green-eyed brunette from Kentucky originally, it was her fascination with mythology and, specifically, Asian folklore that led her to meeting his father while studying abroad in China. With his parents the way they are, Albert's childhood was inundated with stories about the crusades, various wars and conquest of the Roman Empire and the creation stories of China, Japan, Greece, Persia and countless other countries and kingdoms. Instead of Clifford the Big Red Dog, Albert was read the story of how Prometheus gifted fire to mankind, only to be chained to a rock by Zeus and have an eternity of torture as eagles tore open his stomach and ripped out his liver from his mother or the history of the Babylonian Empire from his father.

After a lifetime of stories of heroics, epic adventures and great heroes and people, both mythological and historical, real, day-to-day life weighed on Albert's shoulders like a lead sheet. He could barely force himself to go to school every morning, let alone hang out with his peers, who seemed content to chatter about who was having sex with who, or which team was going to the Super Bowl or whatever else they talked about.

Out of the corner of his eye, Albert caught a flash of movement. He jerked upright, staring in the direction he had seen something. Sure enough, over in the corner of his bedroom, right by the door to his closet, a transparent grey mist had settled by the ground. The mist shuddered and bulged in place. Though Albert could originally see through to the shelves built into his closet, the mist had coalesced and darkened enough that he could see nothing but the writhing mass. After a few seconds, he was sure he had seen a long tail-like appendage appear from the mist before it suddenly zipped back across the room and out the door.

Albert stared out the door where the mist had disappeared, contemplating dashing after the mist before deciding against it. Even if he had dashed after it the second it had left, he wouldn't have even come close. He flopped back onto the bed, all energy that the mist had brought into the room with it lost. That was the second strange occurrence that had happened today. He saw what looked like a snake flying through the air on his way to school earlier, wriggling through the air like a sea serpent would water, and now this. If it weren't for the occasional super-natural occurrence, Albert would hardly find life worth living. It was these flashes of the unknown that made him believe that there was still some excitement and adventure left in the world somewhere. He just had to find it.

"Not that I've managed to find anything before though," Albert thought to himself with a sigh, resuming his staring match with the cardboard box.

He didn't really have any strong feelings about going to Massachusetts. There weren't any friends he would be leaving behind. Hell, most of his classmates thought he was mentally retarded and treated him like he didn't exist anyway. Probably because of the ghostly apparition that had risen up through his desk in math class once. He screamed bloody murder, falling back in his seat and angrily chased the laughing creature out the door, screaming profanities at it as he went. Whatever it was, it disappeared with a puff of smoke outside the staff room, leaving a fuming Albert alone amongst equally angry teachers. Needless to say, he got detention for a week.

Regardless, Albert doubted Massachusetts would be any more fulfilling than California. In his mind, all the move would bring was hassle and a new location to mull around in. Despite his best efforts, his attempts to research and experience more of the supernatural world was met with failure. Albert spent most of his free time now playing video games or reading fantasy novels. That was the closest he could get to the adventure that he so longed for.

"Al, quit lazing around and hurry and help your father carry boxes into the truck," his mother said, appearing in the doorway, a stack of books balanced in her arms. "We have to be on the road by seven!"

Albert groaned and grabbed the box he had been staring at, reluctantly carrying it down the stairs.

"Just great, a three day journey shoved in a car, with the amazing reward of unpacking everything again and living the same life, but in Massachusetts."