Chapter 1

2021, Thursday June 17th

Through the window and into the night, Peter Hubberton stared into the girl’s eyes. Placed between life and death, they reflected the almost full moon. Its gray craters pitted the muscular fibers of her iris, which writhed like snakes over the barren landscape. She haunted him. Four feet above and behind her, the beast's giant eyes glowed and expansive horns reached outward like devil wings.

The scene transformed to black as Lila switched on the lights of their Italian marble kitchen. With the glass now a black mirror, Peter found himself glaring at his wife.

"Are you going to stare at her all night?"

"No." He turned and sat on a stool at the large kitchen island.

Lila took her husband's hand. "It's over soon. Don't spend your last nights tormented."

"You've been tormented for years."

"That's why I'm happy. It's all about to end."

Chapter 2

Six months of research printed, collated, bound, and now strewn about the boardroom's conference table like the post-apocalyptic wasteland of a post office. Kristin Fuller sat amongst the mess in a private celebration.

Out the large windows, glass buildings loomed over Dallas. Modern-day stalagmites in contemporary hell. The towers' heat shimmers distorted the blue sky. Inside offices and on the streets, the people-ants went about their duties as the queens lay somewhere pulling strings.

The moon hung center stage, watching Kristin and directing the hidden queens. Revered for eons, the ghost-like sphere demanded admiration. As the macrocosm's eye, the moon spied her. The grand Infinite had plans for Kristin Fuller. Its ethereal tendrils set in motion at the dawn of time.

Behind her and through the frosted glass, the office space hummed. Or was it the conspiring of the Fates? Either way, voices from elsewhere radiated the air-conditioned room.

The massive monitor that hung on the wood-paneled wall still displayed the moment she worked up to. She buttered up the executives with biotech foreplay until revealing the firm's 300% projected return on investment. They ate it up.

Sure, a series of emails from the user "doublehelix", originating from a private server, provided her with exceptional details of the target company. Still, Kristin verified and corroborated all of it. With the trading floor getting orders from the top to acquire shares, Kristin was on course to be Lone Star Equities' youngest VP.

She brought order to the chaotic space by collecting the binders and stacking them in her arms, neck high. With a slight backward lean, she walked them down the hall to her office, where she placed them neatly in a corner.

At her computer, Kristin opened her email app. She twice scrolled through her list of unopened messages for anything from her anonymous friend. Nothing. She then set to cleaning her inbox and enabling her out-of-office reply.

A few months back her father excitedly called to discuss Kristin visiting home for the lunar eclipse. He talked about how the path traveled directly over Vermont for a perfect viewing. She could see it with him and her mother on Sunday and spend the week catching up with family and friends. It would also relieve her from the Dallas heat.

It sounded nice, and seeing the lunar eclipse gave it a sense of adventure, so Kristin requested the rare time off from work. Unfortunately, Emil, her serious boyfriend whom she had been living with for a couple of years, had his own commitments and couldn't make the trip.

At 6:45 she logged off and walked the dimly lit row to the elevators, where she hit the down button and waited.

The elevator dinged and opened. Kristin entered and punched the button for the third garage level. She rested against the back wall and exhaled, then lowered her shoulders and made a circular motion with her neck. The physical metamorphosis from work Kristin to casual Kristin.

The elevator reached its destination.

She walked to her car, a brand-new Jeep Grand Cherokee. Only a few vehicles remained in the underground cement chamber. Hell's cavity.

Her heels tapping echoed off the concrete walls, ceiling, and pillars. Click click, click click.

She shuffled through her purse for her keys, then patted her thigh to the beat of the sounds. Click click, click click. It became the soundtrack accompaniment to her leisurely stroll.

A new rhythm joined the tune. More footsteps from Kristin's left. Larger. Heavier. And not just a pair, but a clickety clickety of two sets of brick stilettos.

Clickety clickety.

Kristin stopped and bowed to look between a sedan and support column to the row beyond, but as she did, the sound ceased. Was it because there were no more footsteps to echo? Or maybe whatever shadowed her stopped.

Walking again, the odd noise returned. Kristin quickened her pace by taking longer strides and pushing with her calves. Whatever followed matched her tempo. Kristin slid off her heels and ran. Her bare feet slapped against the hard floor and picked up dirt.

To her horror, the sound continued with a clickety clickety clickety clickety like Charon traded his ferry for an imposing horse.

She looked to each side and behind as she ran. Then the sounds retreated to somewhere unknown as she reached her SUV. She opened the door and quickly got in to shut and lock it. She shivered from the odd experience, started her vehicle, and drove into the Dallas sun.

She navigated the busy Dallas traffic until turning onto Main Street, where a delivery vehicle positioned itself just right to obstruct traffic.

Kristin tuned the radio to chill electronic music to drown out the honking and drain the pooled adrenaline.

Her attention shifted to her right to see Dallas' Giant Eyeball, the large blue-eyed sculpture in a small park, staring at her just over the low metal fence. The sun reflected off the tall building behind it, making it appear to have been beamed down from the heavens with distinct purpose. The blackness of its pupil like the entrance to another realm or a portal to a mysterious and unexplored region of our universe.

It appeared fate watched her from many eyes.

Kristin tightened her grip on the wheel and turned away from its artificial gaze. Her skin crawled until the truck moved and traffic started again, allowing her to leave that ocular gateway behind.