Book Number 7

By: Mercy

The house itself is nothing special. I know someone’s living there because I’ve seen a white van parked outside now and then. But I have never seen anyone leave, which is weird. I realize that if I don’t interfere pretty soon, that flash would happen during the night. So I threw on my flip-flops and ran outside. When I got to the door of the house, I notice right away the fact that the door was wide open and swinging on its hinges as if someone was trying to get out. I walk in.

“Hello?” I say, trying not to freak out by how abandoned the place was. There were papers all over the floor and dust was floating in the air like pixie-dust. But what was really eerie was the writing on the walls. It was ethereal. What was it? Japanese? Arabic? The more I looked at it the more I could tell what it said: The fight will seem lost. The fallen will have won, but when the one with the mark steps forth and fights with the Others, the balance will be restored.

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