Lena Matthews

"Are you sure?" Mom asked again.

"I swear, I'm not feeling good." I lied.

"This isn't about what happened, is it?" Mom asked.

"This has nothing to do with Rowan and everything to do with my immune system, I swear." I promised. "You guys have fun."

"Okay." said Mom, not seeing the point in taking this argument any further. She slowly closed the door, trying to give me a chance to change my mind. When the door finally shut, I leaned my head back onto my pillow and sighed in relief.

"Are you absolutely sure that you don't want to-"

"Mom!" I exclaimed incredulously. "Just go already!"

"Okay." said Mom. This time when she left, she made sure to leave the door cracked open.

I let myself melt into my bed, content to stay in that position until the end of time. It was hard to explain, but ever since the funeral, I've felt depleted. Not emotionally, but physically. I had no motivation to do anything anymore, not even go monster hunting.

My eyes already hurt from staring at my computer screen and trying to find a Forbidden that matched Rowan's killer. So far, nothing was making sense. Every time I thought I got close to something that matched Charlie's drawing, there was a new detail that didn't line up.

Sure, there were plenty of female Forbidden who liked to lure people into dangerous places at night, but not too many that created cold. Plus, I've never heard of a Forbidden hugging its victims. Since my only witness was a child, I had no idea if anything I was told was even true.

I barely knew Rowan, but everything since her death has felt oddly muffled, like it wasn't really happening. Maybe I was just tired from arguing with Dad, or from finding out the truth about my lineage. All things considered, it was only a matter of time before I cracked.

So here I was, indistinguishable from my covers, waiting for time to pass while my family was out having fun without me. I wasn't jealous, but I knew that if I had been with them it would have ruined their chances of having a good time.

I had no idea how much time had passed before I walked downstairs for absolutely no reason. I dragged my feet all the way to the kitchen and turned on one of the burners on the stove. The natural gas flickered to life, and without thinking, I pressed my hand in the middle of the flames.

Nothing. Obviously.

I had no idea why I was literally playing with fire, but more than anything else, I wanted to shock myself into feeling something that wasn't numbness. I could hear the clicking of the burner, telling me that I hadn't turned the stove on correctly, but ignored it. Instead, I tried to pick up the fire in my bare hands, but realized that I was terrible at maintaining it.

As soon as the fire reached my palm, it sputtered out underwhelmingly. I kept trying though, letting my hands repeat the pattern until I didn't even realize what I was doing anymore. The clicking and the vision of blue flames overwhelmed my senses, protecting me from thinking about anything else.

Each time I repeated the motion, I secretly hoped for the fire to hurt me, but each time I was just disappointed. Frustrated, I shut the burner off. The clicking went away, replaced by an eerie absence of sound.

"What is-" I nearly choked on the rancid stench of natural gas. I grabbed the newspaper on the counter and fanned it in an attempt to dissolve the smell. Tears watered in my eyes as I coughed on the horrible fumes. The newspaper didn't seem to be helping.

After opening every window in the house, the smell remained. I resolved to sit outside by the firepit to wait it out. For some reason, the newspaper remained in my hand. With nothing else to do, I folded the newspaper open.

The first page that I had turned to was an obituary for none other than Rowan Peterson. Her name grabbed my attention and absolutely refused to let me go. It was like I wanted to torture myself as I read every word.

Rowan Peterson, 17, passed earlier this week due to hypothermia while on a walk with her younger brother. She was a young girl full of life and a passion to help others. She started an outreach program at Atalka Academy to help teachers adapt to teaching students with ADHD so that her brother Charlie wouldn't feel left out at school. She will be missed by her friends and family, who paid their respects at the...

I finally broke out of my spell and continued to scan the page. I came across another name that I didn't recognize, but had the same age as Rowan.

Joshua Rodriguez, 17 was found by Monty's.

That was it. Nothing describing what kind of person he was, or even how he died. Just a vague death and a location. Maybe that was exactly what I needed. I grabbed my phone and did a quick search for a place called Monty's. According to my phone, it was only a few minutes away by car. I tapped the screen pensively. Did I really want to investigate what was probably nothing?

Yeah. I really did.

The name Joshua Rodriguez was the first thing to make me take an initiative towards something. I had some motivation for the first time in a while, and wanted to ride it out for as long as I possibly could. I hopped into the car and set the GPS for Monty's, ready for whatever lay ahead.

I pulled to a stop right before the gate, and rolled the window down to speak to Makaya who, as usual, was in her security booth.

"I didn't expect to see you, honey." Makaya finished reapplying her lipstick casually before scanning me up and down. "You look like a mess."

"Thank you?" I responded, taken off guard. Makaya was probably right, but it still stung. For some reason, I didn't want her to think bad of me.

"I'm just saying, maybe you need some rest or a spa day, not a trip to the outside. I don't know if you remember this, but the outside's a bit of a wreck. Samuel Pearce is doing what he can, trying to integrate the schools and all that, but still." Makaya shook her head. "It's not a good place right now."

"Is there any law forbidding me from leaving?" I asked Makaya.

"I suppose not," said Makaya. "But it's my job to keep the residents safe."

"Nothing will happen to me." I protested.

"You never know," said Makaya, shrugging. She extended her hand, palm facing up, right to my car window.

"Right." Before I even knew what was happening, my hand grabbed my phone and handed it over. Makaya instantly started typing on my device before handing it back to me with a leisurely smile.

"Now I can find you," said Makaya. "Just in case. Have fun. But if you're not back in an hour, I'm coming after you."

"Cool." I said, looking down at my smartphone with unease. I couldn't decipher whether or not Makaya was being serious.

Makaya only shrugged back and pushed a red button in her booth, allowing the Atalka gates to swing open. I stared at the open road ahead and pressed the gas. The car lurched forward awkwardly, destined for Monty's.

As it turned out, Monty's was a small bar that was fairly close to the gated part of Atalka. The lines in the parking lot were so faded that I couldn't tell if I had parked correctly or not. It didn't seem to matter, since there were only a few scattered cars there anyway. I locked my car and walked into the establishment.

Inside, the bar had a few TVs playing ESPN while a couple of customers lounged at the tables. I walked straight to the bar and sat down promptly.

"What can I get you?" A man who looked to be in his late twenties with tattooed arms and a name tag that read "Monty" looked over at me.

"Water." I answered.

"Are you sure about that?" Monty asked. "If you're going to sit in my seat, you might as well pay for it."

"Leave her alone, Monty." said a voice from behind me.

"Jerome!" said Monty, his demeanor instantly brightening. "Good to see you, man."

"Good to see you too." said Jerome, placing some cash on the bar. "Whatever beer you got on tap." Jerome was wearing tight black jeans, a shirt with large colored stripes and a single gold chain. By the way he carried himself, he was certainly a regular here.

Monty glanced down at the cash skeptically. "ID?" he asked.

"Hilarious," said Jerome sarcastically. "Josh would have just filled his own glass by now and you wouldn't have done a damn thing."

"Right." Monty answered, glancing down uncomfortably at the mention of the deceased.

"What happened to Josh?" I asked, seizing the opportunity. "I never heard about what happened."

"They told us that he was shot." said Monty, handing Jerome a glass of beer.

"But what actually happened?" I asked, sensing that Monty didn't believe what he was told.

"Well, he definitely saw something that he shouldn't have," said Jerome.

"You're gonna scare her outta here." said Monty, shaking his head.   

"What do you think Josh saw?" I asked Jerome.

"Don't." Monty warned Jerome.

"Tell me." I demanded instantly. There really could be something behind Joshua's death. The more nervous Monty seemed, the more certain I was that Jerome knew something important.

"She wants to know," said Jerome, looking at Monty. "So I'm gonna tell her."

"I don't want to be wrapped up in this. I'm not interested in those monster stories." said Monty, moving towards a new customer, his hands in the air. "If you excuse me, I have a job to do."

"You do that," said Jerome in a mocking tone. Monty flipped him off before fully engaging with his new patrons.

"So, what exactly do you know about Josh?" I asked.

"I'm not crazy," said Jerome. "That's the thing that I need you to keep in mind here." Usually when a story starts like that, the Forbidden are involved. I could feel my heart beat faster with adrenaline. "There's something here. It's after us. All of us. She has a long white gown, and-"

"Black hair?" I asked, recalling Charlie's crayon drawing.

Jerome set down his drink. "How did you know that?" He asked.

I shrugged. "Lucky guess."

"No it wasn't." said Jerome, taking another sip. "Who are you?"

"I'm Lena Matthews." I answered, smiling as I finally used my real name. "I'm an agent." I reached into my wallet and pulled out my Agency ID, but flashed it quickly so he couldn't see that I was distinguished as an associate. "I help get rid of problems. Like a mysterious woman that creates cold." I looked at Jerome expectantly, hoping that it looked like I knew what I was talking about.

"You want to kill it?" Jerome asked.

"Yeah." I responded with confidence. I was getting carried away, but I was too busy reveling in the idea of being a real agent. It was like a really intoxicating game of pretend. I was exactly the person I wanted to be. "I'm still gathering intel, so if you could help me, it would be appreciated."

"She appeared to me at Atalka Trail one night," said Jerome. "Whoever she was, she was absolutely terrifying."

"I know." I said, acting as though I faced the Forbidden on a daily basis. "You know, it takes a specific spark to do what I do. Not everyone has it, but when you do, it's your responsibility to use it."

"Still, you should be careful." said Jerome, unaffected by my dramatic speech. "If it wasn't for the wolf, my friend Aaliyah and I would be dead by now."

So there are werewolves around here. I wanted to celebrate and rub it in Dad's face, but I tried to keep myself contained.

"Thank you for the warning," I said, "but I can handle myself." My phone vibrated, and I glanced down at an unknown number. "Excuse me." I told Jerome, walking to a corner of the bar to read the message in private.

I would be on my way back if I were you. XO, Makaya

"How did she get my number?" I muttered to myself. Makaya had my phone in her hand for a few seconds and managed to get my contact info on top of whatever tracking software she had installed. I scrolled through my apps to find what she downloaded, but I couldn't find anything new. Add technology to Makaya's areas of expertise.

I shoved my phone in my pocket and walked back to where Jerome was sitting.

"I should go." I announced. "Thank you for all of your help."

My phone buzzed again. Now, it read. I frowned at the text, unsure of where Makaya's sudden protectiveness was coming from.

"It was nice to meet you." I added.

"Yeah. You too." said Jerome, frowning. As I turned to open the door, I could faintly hear him say, "Monty, who was she? I don't even remember walking in here."

When I finally made it back to the gate, Makaya wasn't there. Instead, it was an Asian woman that I've never seen before. According to her, Makaya's shift had ended while I was gone.

As I drove back home, I wasn't thinking about Makaya, the texts, or even Jerome's odd words. I was thinking about the beautiful adrenaline rush that came with playing the role of Lena Matthews, Agent.

The house no longer smelled like natural gas, but I decided to start cleaning the kitchen anyway. When the rest of the family made it home, they were shocked to find me humming while loading the dishwasher.

"Um, Lena?" Finn asked. "Are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" I asked, turning off the sink.

"The..." Finn trailed off, completely perplexed by my new attitude.

"Well, I'm happy to see you being yourself, sweetheart." said Mom, deciding to take the small victory I was presenting. "I'm sorry that you weren't able to come with us."

"That's okay." I shrugged. "Dad, can I talk to you?"

Dad seemed surprised. Everyone dispersed from the kitchen, leaving the two of us alone. "What did you want to talk about, Lena?" Dad asked. He crossed his arms and furrowed his brows, just like he did whenever he was concerned.

"You're wrong about me." I said firmly. "I'm going to prove you wrong. I don't care where I was descended from, and I don't care what you think. I know what I can be."

I knew exactly what it felt like to be an agent now, and I was going to do anything to chase that high again. The next chance I got, I was going to be on Atalka Trail at nightfall. I was ready to find this cold woman.

A/N: So, the funeral seems to be having a strange effect on Lena. But we also got to see her interact with Jerome for the first time! It was a lot of fun to have people from inside and outside the gate talk to each other. It felt like two worlds meeting. I hope everyone is doing well. Have a safe Halloween! Don't forget to vote and comment!

QOTD: If you could cosplay as any character, who would it be and why?