Another return

All resorts and theme parks are jammed of foreigners like me. From Disneyland, Disney makertplace, Universal studios and zoo areas such as Bush garden or Sea world.

Its places like this that have gates, these gates are also seasonally affected. You can't walk into a horror realm unless its October. The theme of realms are easier accessed if the themes of those worlds are strongly presented among humans. Take for example if the theme park is Dinosaur theme, then there will be a possibility of a gate to such landscape with creature relatively connect to such Dinosaur ecstatic.

A wizard world of fantasy has a handy hidden gate. It takes those over to the realm written in the books or seen in films. And yes, versions of both exist together but they can't interact. Its more like onion layers... the further in the closer to the core inspiration of that 'universe' is in a finalized form away from this worlds assumptions. The door way is like a needle poking through the layers.

This happens when the goddess of fate or god of reality has a moment of clumsy mistake needling in Time space fabric. There is many other methods of creating gates, depending where it starts and where they end. Demon summoning by witches is a common excuse. Its such thanks to these mistakes that worlds are able to be pop culture trends for humanity to continue the fantasy. There is argument that the earlier years, before written word or technology in general; the idea of spirituality began this way. A gate in a area of nature beauty discovered on accident by early humans.

"What exactly are we doing here?" I mutter to the clay face. For now, it was in a sleep mode, the ink body gone and the blank disc face was a tangible weight item. The colour of paint spreads across and it is now the fragment whom haunted my house from England.

"A fragment of us is stuck between this normal theme park of normal not magic folks and the concept world this theme park is based. That world calls it a horcux. We need to steal it back. Steal it from the tree."

"If I had to guess... the willow on the hogwart grounds?" the paints show it.

"No... not that tree. There is a tree that was the concept of it before it became a willow. The abstract version of it." I am about to walk into JKs mind to steal a piece of me? what... no. "You are a moron. Concepts and dreams don't have to be creatively made by minds of humans."

The mask turned into sand, flowing out of my hand. The dust clumps and then flowed up my clothing, digging into skin. From living human to what would be considered a dementor.

Clothy torn strands whipped out from a staff door and pulled me through.

The evening clouds smears silver glows of fluff. The dark eons of diamond dusted specks shimmer. A thin slice of light is more a round tinted circle with thin highlight. Open land of grass dewy grounds, edged of twist limbed trees and sizzling glimpses of leaves to each limb. A low ground fog was dusting the forest ground. The grass clearing is ditched, long dig in curves. It dipped down a sort of embankment or sliding bumpy edge.

Pushed up off ground level and admiring crisp air, a more proper look down into the lower ditch is a much thicker based tree. No grass surrounded the tree. The bark of it had indentations to areas were floor mirrors patterns of where it slams itself to the floor. Roots and branch tips like animated wire mesh, whipping flying creatures from the air around. The soil covered in littered crushed bodies. There are no leaves but spines of thorns that stick out to touch moisture in the air or the bodies of flying things.

It were not a happy tree, it shivers and slams around at a single moment notice. It has dislike for mammals, bugs and birds. Constantly having the core of this tree creaking and snaps of contracting inner warps of wood. Never staying still, always squirming about, digging up soil and flinging it about.

"I can see where the willow in the books and movies gets its demeanor from." Ducking down from soil clumps fling over head and smacking the bark of a different tree. A squeaking of to smooth surfaces was pitched into the air as following a slam into the floor. The long follow of stillness and silence.

The floor caved in around me, as a hard tug pulls at my legs. It was not to hurt me, only that it tied my feet together and swept me through a burrow of stretched root caves. Tightly becoming more packaged wrap in thinner strings of roots the further into ground.

A sudden hold of being dangled like a water drop on the end of fishing wire, a low groaned whisper began. The air pulled out from around and as great force.

"A challenge I must impose. A trail of resilience. Just how far can one stay to make wise chooses the worse things are to become." I felt stabbed in the back of my neck, locked in a growth of roots and pulled deeply into the dreams.

I see the things I have always seen in my dreams. Worlds falling and rising, at different magnitudes.

From a god whom became distrusted and fallen favour of their followers. To world wars... some world wars that left a cold surface without an atmosphere. Other wars has erased to original creatures and melted them into new things. Then there were worlds that embrace this sort of devastating natural affect... world of metal machines finally awakened to have the energy to continue. Such metal men being the next ones to devastate natures plant life with metallic poisoning. Yet, there was always adapting species of life whom grow, learned and picked up the lost knowledge or made new knowledge based on the assumption premiter.

This wasn't some test on my part. It was testing the limits of how far is too far. It reached at that moment edge of breaking down the major barriers between worlds. Yet still, the worlds now mixed and adapted. It tried the process of becoming god and failed. It reach far as far the mind can warp and assume. And it could not find a boundary of answers it seeks.

It sat at the edge of time and space, a young green skin child... looking down a abyss of eyes. The abyss of eyes looks up to the green leaf boy.

"She normally a very nice lass." legs crossed, a hand on bone China as the other poured blue gloop with the other hand. The blue in contact with the air turned purple then black inside the cup. It were strings of stick towards the last bit.

"What?" the child looks up.

"Dont look away, you can make her jealous of me. She enjoys the attention." The green fella looks back at what was a pool... the surface became hands hold each other into a lady figured shape. all the palms facing had eyes, "The lady of space in her most handiest of forms."

The cup is rose to her honor and posed as a single man's toast. Downing the liquid. It salivate by the disgusting flavors it had from such... gloop. The sight of what the child and the lady was doing is ignored then sharply focused. The lady at bow, her plead.

"What does this have to do with me?" Wiping the wet from my chin. She sits up in pulling the child to her... making them bow, "You a strange lass of space. That green being has a few of my fragments... Other then wanting them back, I could bend the rules to place them into an existing system." She pulls the kid to stand, a core crystal of soul removed from its chest. The shard that didnt belong thrown my way. Upon the souls fragment clump return, my current bodies shape broke down and flexed. Folded into a book. Such book pages rattled fast as soon a name is imprinted upon a suitable world of other plants. The creature snatched away by the many hands of space. The last hand waving fair well to my interactions with it.

Snap from no longer dangling from within a den of roots. I was hang nearly by a out childs playground, ropes tangled over limbs. The face mask slipped off and at the floor in front of me. I blink in confusion, not exactly sure how this is a part of uni studio's land of wizardry.

The sounds of air pressure valve release above. A good guess is I am intangible not in rope but wire for on the ride attractions. I stare over shoulder, the staff only door left slight ajar.

"Entering and leaving other worlds is a lotto game of death." I noted once carefully out of the mess. I lowered to look at a wire that came unplugged, my back would not bend down enough.

I had in fact felt like I was wearing a corset, this time not for some cosplay gig. constricted from breathing correctly. I sit up on the floor, manage to plug the lose wires in where they did belong. I am sure any other person should not be touching this without some sort of experience. For me, it felt like I was a electrician for years and there a sense of knowing exactly what wires were and what they are doing.

Given the privacy of this area, I stood to unbuttoned my shirt. My hand tracing dark veins of wood... implanted in my body and took over some my veins. I feel twinges of nerves giving static feedback, and like a soapy sloshing around my stomach. I was most queezy and not at all hungery. For the benefit of getting out, I make sure my shirt on right. I put up my hood and changed some of my overall outfit. I make sure the staff door is properly locked behind to prevent anyone meeting a terrible fate. Being in the back of a ride while they are still running them.

I make my steps, putting my foot down but not feeling the floor. I had look at my feet to make sure that in a sense that I was walking normally and indeed on the floor. The mask smashed across my head at force, sticking there like a bug glued to a spiders web.

"Would you like to try a free sample of butter beer?" a shot measurement of nonalcoholic beverage is force in my hand.

I give nod of thanks and give it a go. I totally had to buy a few bottles for later and a slushie to have now. The humidity of peak Florida sun coupled with poor sleeve choose. Dehydration was a worryingly factor. Water and just about everything in this theme park was expensive. Making the most of forced to pay for drink, it had to be worth it. One these butter beer drinks that quenches thirst and cools down the heat.

I went on rides like everyone else and blended in. I had fun, solo theme park experience has its merits. It just sucks looking at everyone around me, taking photos and sharing love on social platforms. I did take a selfie beside famous landmarks and I have to consider how to send them to David, Rick or Karen. Families of mixed ages talking hype for what rides to go on together or where to get out of the sun. We would have had a real family get together if everything didn't turn out this way.

I got out late off the park grounds at sun down. I ordered a hire car with fake (but in their systems as real) details. It was one already parked at a designated location. I made sure it was no occupied by anyone else or trashed up (its the problem with hire cars these days). I did them a favor of wiping it all down with disinfectant. Driving late night to where I paid for with this car. Parked in a designated parking owned by the company that rents the cars.

St Augustus area is most popular of Greek festival that happens this month coming. It has ghost tours all year around when not a hurricane or a festival. The restaurants and hotels are all aged to the era. A small ally market of back streets full of tourists items to real apothecaries and even real witch potion ingredients shops. It being late night, meant nothing good would be open and that the ghost tours is at its peak of video recording.

I sat at a rarity, a bench in the middle of the some small closed area over looking a grassy area. All the walking exhausted me and there was a lot of mental background thoughts still troubling me. It does not help with my constant paranoid habits. It does not help when I see mask mock human walking by and making a mistake of looking them in the eyes from time to time.

This place was much more beautiful in daylight, and with proper humans walking in families around the native markets. Local accents sung as the smells of all the venders began. It was much more vivid colours around and it was not busy like most of Florida is by tourists. No, the folks that come here are often large families whom been around for generations and knew this place like home.

"Its a nice little area... not my sort of thing." I am not sitting alone. I yond in properly waking up and studying the mock human, "Its... to... nesh of a look. It almost a movie set. Mostly almost fake."

"I like it. It worlds different from small lanes of terrace housing. The smell of many ethic groups and culture really mesh well. Not that you think native American Indians, Greek, Italian, Spanish and whatever other folks being here would belong here. The houses does look like something out of the films, a sort of testament to its oddity." I waved my hand about in empathising my point. I grin to myself as the world passes by. The spirit stares out to the empty courtyard area, expecting something or someone. They do a double take, distraction long enough for me to walk away and blend among folks.

I managed through to walk into a painting of an alley, a soft gateway to a spirit market. Since this place is a clash of saints from many orthodox churches and then also spirit creatures of the native American... a few Mexican creatures too. This market of spirits is going to have a lot of oddities to buy or sale.

My humanity blindfolded once more and at the trust of my other side to do what it needed here. My voice speaking languages I didn't realize I knew. I weren't a fool to not become trapped in some demons plan. The fact that any tried had meant they didn't know me at all. I felt appreciated for being seen as like one of them... not excluded like how the grim reapers or gods I have met so far.

"It would take a real living human to know what I am." Stood among a crowd of watching spirits. Some aspects of being in a market are unchanged. The scam artists and crowd entertainment still have place even if the crowds are spirits.

"3 Dead realm coins for a bet." the few came and answered wrong. Not a spirit guide. Not a demon. Totally a money scam. It makes soft purring noises when they get it wrong and tap the coin off the counter in a playful manner. The crowd was amused for all sorts of possible spirits ideas. It was a lot of things I never heard of, and some would explain why this trickster isn't them.

"A god eater!" paying the 3 death coins.

"no..." the crowd is very stumped.

"Your human owner has your missing poster out. She misses you and is really worried that you been ate by a gator." I put down a single coin and my other hand reached with plucking the cat from underneath the pile of things.

It curled in shock of being handled like a cat should. The spirits sigh at relief to finally know it were just a cat on its 7th life. The more lives a cat spent the longer it as lived. The oldest ones rule areas of the world as Dukes, Duchess, Queens or Kings. The crowd disburst to flowing around the normal market. As I held this cat like a baby, carrying them around. My left arm tucking them close to me.

"I were originally just walking around minding my own business. But I seen that cat missing poster. Then when I came here and was mesmerised by you game. I knew from the second I seen you. I must thank you for it, I learned about what spirits think of other supernatural entities." From out a painting and back to walking the sun light, "You will not die soon but you have to trade me your earnings from your little game. The death realm coin."

"They aren't for me." the cat meows and looked around. It found what it was worried about.

"All things living must met death. That is unless your a sea creature. Them lot are weird." I poke the nose, "You were earning money for the human grandmother... She to has already pass since you left. Time among spirits is wrapped. But she's isn't gone. You are a speciality among mammals, to see the dead among the living. She is looking for you."

"Then... I have no reason..." I silence the cat and make it to the door. I gave it a knock.

"Hola, madam. You have missing cat poster... it took a while with how faded it was. But I found your cat." the young lady bursted in tears as the cat is passed over. Clearly a family member, very well loved. "I havent checked him into the vets yet, I am sure a cat that age would have been put down. I knew he had a loving family missing him. No claws, very affectionate and well fed. Thats a very healthy loved cat." the daughter and some others were all over the cat. I was welcomed inside for a drink. I was thanked and given 100 dollar reward. They gave me a bottle of alcohol on top for finding him alive.

They assume I am 21 or are going to ignore my youth for now. The cat gave me all that coin, to live another few years of this lifetime. He will be around for when the grandchildren are born. I dont intrude on their time, leaving with the rewards. The spirits whom worried for the cats returned, were now resting. In angelic or demon form, continuing to protect the family from supernatural stuff. This area is highly supernatural and so its normal for families to linger around each other.

The grim reaper of the area, stood confused on how a name could fade off the time like that. He wasnt used to lives finding ways to be prolonged without his consent. They are smart to keep moving on, ignoring the oddity for now. Making a note of it in a different reports book.

I walked the grim walk through a gate of thier own making. I hitched a step through, blindfolded again. It seems the living status I am is not allowed to see things beyond life. Walking blind has become easier. I have other sharper senses to rely on.

Another thought, I am soon used to with walking into strange doors that don't or should be for humans to walk through. It follows with being grappled by a random limb and thrown into things. I often stand back up, aching but unfazed. I pause in working out what way to walk and got that way.

Instead of that process of things, I am still blindfolded but there is sight here. I can see other folks stood perplexed. All stood over a stone coffin and unsure of why it wasn't filled of ink. I inspect whomever they were and what this place is.

It dawns on me that I did just die here not to long ago. It was a thought that made me got blank minded. Long enough for someone here to notice me stood with them.

"What is a mortal doing here?" the sneer of one is the twist of others to look my way. I was with it again to look at them all.

"James, correct?" A more mordenized business suit and tie. A very thick British accent and with a fencing blade then a syth. Someone version of death with all the troupes of Britishness. From how the polite manners around others, to being strict in laws. Its a little weird... not what I assumed. But I guess everyone has their own way of seeing death. Its more interesting that his chest has medals that reflect the once british empire. The flat hat is out of fashion but suited him. The shepherd's flat cap.

Moving thought's of distraction aside, in how other grim reapers here suited to history of other countries or cultures. I came forwards to be right over the coffin, I make my checks for any damage. I stand staring, blurred minded to how I was laying here. Maybe I am still?

"Its not often that I have to worry about coming here." The many bow to this lord, the god of this land. He looks different every time I am here. He doesn't make sense to me to grace the figure words. He is not horrible to look at, just uncomfortable to stare into.

"The tomes do not need to be over saturated in ink when there is exact numbered amount of souls around. For when one name is gone. It will fade to the next book... as method that has before. Before some idiot torn a hole between this universe and the other. We have exact names, souls and 'places'. No need for inking in extra. There is already extras. Not needed to add more, there aren't more to fill in." My mask spoke, borrowed my voice. I am no stranger to it using me as puppet when needed. Posed at bow with all and stood in watching the stone surface, "As I am within time and space, my duty it to write souls to rest. Outside of time, I must protect us all. That is my place. You can't change what the universe chooses, nor could I. The last idiot whom tried... well... I think it still floating outside of space time as a sad soul."

"That voice isn't the human I was expecting."

"And yet, now you know whom I am for now. I am sure the judge is sneaking around your domain. Thats if he isn't struggling to put them souls back." I put a hand to the stone surface, runes carved deeply but smooth as if made into it that way, "When something universal wrong happens or like we are eclipse to a different universe. This will be flowing with the ink to add the souls from there. Traveling Hunters of oath or some other universes traveling fools. I suspect clothus have this need to poke holes from time to time."

My hand flows through and pulls up a skull. I peer into it and put it back.

"Not enough time yet." It muttered in a sore tone, " Maybe a few trips for a few mutations may help this faster." Worm fishing... I dont get where that came from. I suspect it was the Ender title thoughts in mine.

I have also suspected that it may not be telling me the whole truth with how or why our arrangement works. I dont recall any event yet to explain my soul being shattered. I would guess something so bad would have a abnormalities effect. Yet I am still decently able to feel and have emotions. I am not totally insane, inspite of all the seeing werid things. Or accepting that these folks are actual gods. I mean seriously, unsure of all.

My sense were blacked out and in waking up. I had a passport, plane ticket and hand luggage. I was momentarily half awake looking around. It did that thing again. I can't complain, it was likely necessary to give itself full focus.

The crowds of kids complaining about going back to school from a great holiday. Parents sighing about being back to jobs. That one grumpy teen that happy to go home to thier friends. A few business folks talking business of a construction site once they are back to the UK.

The werido has to be the guy in a feather cloak whom seemed to walk out from a reenactment group. He hands clasp together in low tones of prayer.

"A duck out of the pond." I interrupted him and the ghost of his lord sitting on his shoulder, "For a bird man, it odd to see you take metal wings." I hide away information and sit posed in acting like I wasn't talking to him. He stood up and looks around confused, looking at family groups, "Your nickname is Raven. I am not sure if ravens are a fitting bird type for omens. Your more a magpie for your like of shiny bits." I carefully see if he is alone, "Why do you keep finding me? I dont want be found. Not yet. I have things to do before my public execution. Not that I broke the laws either. I am half trapped to my birth home."

The plane boarding call was for my row and I stood among the wave of others to line up. I left a coin at my seat, that he picked up. He was a little frantic in looking around, yet was soon picked up by staff to his business front seat.

"Ah, your seat has been changed but to make up for not tell you before. We upgraded your seat to frist class... since you a lone rider." the ticket person smiles and I gave thanks. I am also directed personally to my own seat, the last seat in frist class. Looking down the row, a lot of mages are here. Fate just likes lumping problems. Having once again act indifferent to folks walking past all the time. I do well to watch a few movies and documentaries.

This plane is not just crossing the Atlantic but also follows wind current to eventually park at Gatwick Airport. 6 hour flight with a little toilet breaks possible to not be face to face with mages. It had been a turbulent flight. I was sick on the landing, glad to have puke bags. I was one the frist out and choose to have a proper sleep at a hotel I have been to before. The jet lag, landing sickness and other headaches. It was like I was getting worse then better.