The massive wooden door shrieked as I pushed it open. My heels clacked on the hard, stone floor and for a moment, I couldn’t but admire the carved statues decorating the banister. What a beautiful house. Well, mansion, really.

I placed the muddy basket down next to the entrance and searched for a rug to wipe my feet. If I could find myself a warm hearth or a nice place to quietly dry up, I could get all the heavy mud removed from my cloak.

“Finally.”

I turned towards the sarcastic voice and cowered underneath another set of grey eyes. A different woman with fiery red hair glared angry at me. What kind of story was Will writing here? Why were all the women so mean and harsh?

“Umm…”

“Speak up!” she snapped, grabbing a fistful of my cloak. I cringed as I tried to dart backwards, but her strong grip prohibited me. I refrained from slapping her hand away and whimpered, hoping she’d take pity on me. People really shouldn’t be touching me.

“Sorry?” I tried, hoping that an apology would appease her. From what I had observed from humans, this seemed like common practice.

“Sorry? Sorry won’t sweep the floor. Or dust the attic. Or sew my dress!” she shrieked, pulling so hard on my cloak I was afraid she’d tear it. Not that it was possible. Dweller cloaks weren’t made from just any material. And they were designed so they would shield their wearer, but I didn’t feel very protected at the moment.

“And what’s this? Where did you get it from?” she huffed loudly, holding up the fabric between two fingers. With disdain written on her face, she carefully sniffed my hood. “Did you steal it?”

“W-What? No? It’s mine!”

A twinkling shimmered in her eyes and she turned towards the back of the house. “Mother!”

My eardrums flinched from the screechy tone and I glanced at the door. Maybe the rain was a better choice after all. If she would just relinquish her grip on me, I could slip back out and disappear into the shadows. The same shadows that had been hiding and shielding me for my whole life. Shadows I detested at times, but right now, seemed like a very safe place. And favourable over being under this woman’s nose, scrutinised by her harsh glare.

“Mother! Gris stole something!” she yelled again, tightening her long fingers around my cape. Another door swung open and the two women from earlier on came into view.

“Ernestina, a lady doesn’t yell,” the mother reprimanded the redhead, swatting her daughter with a small fan. The woman, Ernestina apparently, pouted and scuffled out of the way. Very childlike, she hid behind the mother’s skirt and pointed at me.

“Gris is wearing a cape,” the tattled, glancing at her mother, clearly begging for her approval.

“Oh, she is,” the other sister muttered, earning herself a scoff from Ernestina. “What?”

“Fredericka, didn’t you notice her shimmery cape?” the redhead mocked her sister, sticking out her tongue behind her mother’s back. But as if with eyes in her back, the mother turned around and hit Ernestina with her fan again.

“A lady doesn’t belittle,” she warned, shaking her head in disappointment. I managed to hold back a scoff in irony. This woman didn’t see to talk without contempt shining through in her voice.

“Yes, Ernestina. A lady doesn’t belittle,” the other daughter echoed, pulling her shoulders back as she imitated her mother. How annoying. At least they were squabbling between the three of them and were leaving me out of it. Maybe now was the perfect time to slip out of the door and—

The door behind me was loudly shut and a fourth figure emerged from the shadows. “Tsssk, where did you think you were going?” she whispered softly. The fourth woman placed a hand on my shoulder and pushed me away from my escape. “Gris, you look cold and wet,” she hissed, twirling around me so I could get a better look at her. Unlike the three other women, she only had one grey eye. But I wished she had two of them. One milky eye stared so deep into me, I could feel my soul tremble underneath her glare.

“Francesca is right, you do look cold,” the mother quipped in, nodding at who I assumed was her third daughter.

“If you don’t get out of these clothes, you’ll get sick,” she sang, but nothing about her voice was cheerful. With a rough hand, she yanked my hood down and the clip binding my cloak around me chinked as it fell to the marble floor. Frantically, I clung onto the sides of my cape, hoping to keep it around me. No such luck. With one smooth tug, Francesca yanked my beautiful cloak away from me and tossed it to her mother.

A shiver ran down my spine and I desperately tried to hold back the tears threatening to spill onto my cheeks. I felt naked without my cape. I had never been without it even. This cloak wasn’t just a piece of my attire, it was a piece of me. It changed colour with the environnement, deflected unwanted eyes, and protected me from the memories of humankind. I wrapped my arms around myself, hoping to comfort myself somehow. But it didn’t really do much.

The mother held up my cloak and I resisted the urge to snatch it out of her hands. That would probably get me in even more trouble than I was already in.

“Now, now, now… That is some interesting fabric. Where did you get this, Grisella? Who did you steal it from?”

“It’s mine,” I whispered, a lump forming in my throat as I averted my eyes.

“Speak up, young lady.”

“It’s mine,” I repeated a little louder, cringing as I heard my voice break. Why did they take my cloak? Why did Will write this? Was he angry at me? Was he trying to punish me? Why would he do this to me?

“I never gave it to you. Who did you steal it from?” the mother hissed, balling up my cloak as she shook it in front of my face.

“Nobody, I’ve always had it,” I tried, intimidated by the angry glares from the sisters.

“Nonsense! You must’ve stolen it.”

I wound my arms more tightly around myself. “I didn’t!” I defended myself, surprised by how meek I sounded. But then again, I wasn’t used to actually having to interact with people. I was never on the foreground or on display like this. No, I was what they called a “wallflower” and that was how I liked it.

“If you’re not going to confess your crimes, I’ll just have to punish you,” the mother hissed. The eyes of the three sisters lit up and I could feel their joy at their mother’s words. Well, I was in some good company.

“Yes, you’ll have to punish her,” Fredericka mimicked, beaming as if she just said something brilliant.

“Oooh, perhaps we should make her clean out the pigsty. Have her roll around in the shit,” Ernestina grinned, her lips curled up in a malicious smile.

“Ernestina, a lady does not use such language,” the mother reprimanded her, not taking her daughter’s suggestion under advisement. Luckily.

“Mother, our dear sister is still wet and cold. We should let her warm up first,” Francesca suggested sweetly, surprising me with her words. Sister? Me? Did they think I was their sibling? I couldn’t be, I was a Dweller. We didn’t have families.

The mother nodded and smiled in approval. She turned to hit the redhead with her fan again and growled. “You should take a note out of your older sister’s book.”

Aha, so Francesca was the oldest, that made sense. She seemed to be her mother’s favourite and the woman took her suggestions. That was good for me. I much prefered the fireplace to a stinky pigsty, like Ernestina wanted.

Francesca placed an insistent hand on my back and pushed me further inside the house. There went my escape....

A pleasant warmth radiated from inside the communal living space and a set of armchairs appeared in front of me. They were a little greyish in colour, which seemed rather out of place in the stylish house. The mother swiped a finger over the hearth and plucked a long cigarette from a neatly decorated box. The sharp scent stung my nostrils and I backed away from the smoking lady.

“Where are you going?” Francesca grinned, pushing me back to the centre of the room. Not exactly where I liked to be.

Fredericka followed her mother and snatched a cigarette from the case. She studied her mother and mimicked her stern posture, but it just wasn’t as intimidating or effective. But before she could light the smoke, the mother slapped it out of her hands.

“No smoking inside the house,” she snapped, waving the smoke away as she feverishly pushed out her own cigarette. She moved away from the fireplace and stiffly sat down in the armchair. Pale pink roses appeared underneath her bottom and I made a mental note to strangle Will when I got out of here. He trapped me with three mean sisters, but adding flowers to the furniture was what he was tending to?

“You’ll never get warm so far away from the fire,” Francesca smiled, shoving me towards the hearth. With a stumble, I tripped over one of their feet and for the second time this night, I fell to the ground. My knees hit the stone ground and I held back a grunt of discomfort. What was happening to me? Was this how it felt to be... Human?

Ernestina whooped loudly and kicked me in the side, the heel of her shoe boring into me. Without my cloak to protect me, I was vulnerable to all their abuse. Tears welled up in my eyes as I stared at the dancing flames and I silently begged Will to stop this. If he was punishing me for sneaking into his story without asking, I deserved it. But this was going too far.

“While you’re there, maybe you can help me out,” Francesca smiled, her voice sweet like honey. She walked two fingers over the hearth and pushed against a small vase. The porcelain shattered right in front of my face and the sharp pieces sprayed all over my hands.

“Ooops. How clumsy of me,” she sang, smoothing out her dress with the most innocent look on her face. She kicked the shards around and crouched lightly. “But you don’t mind cleaning it up, do you, Gris?” A hard laugh escaped from her mouth and her grey eyes bore into me. “Get to it.”

Not wanting to bring more anger upon myself, I nodded. With trembling hands, I picked up the bigger pieces of the vase and carefully placed them in my left palm. If I cut myself, would I bleed? How close to humans was I really?

I had never really asked myself that question, but I had a feeling Will would make me find out. Right here and now, in his new universe.

“Oh.” I cringed as one of the sharp edges tore into the flesh of my hand. It gashed open the skin and… Nothing happened. No blood, no fluids, no nothing. A warm sensation spread across the wound as it flawlessly stitched itself back together. A thin white line was the only indicator it ever happened, but in front of my very eyes, the scar faded away. Amazed, I turned my hand and studied my skin. I couldn’t even detect where I cut myself.

A low rumble rolled through the mansion and the sisters shrieked pathetically. The walls moaned and I felt the floor shake under my knees. I knew this sound. The universe was groaning as I broke her laws.

This was not good. Will needed to fix this anomaly or his world would fall. She was becoming unstable and I could tell, I always could tell. This was my job, what I was cut out for. Why I was a Dweller.

Another chill swept through the air and my stomach turned on itself. A dizziness took over my head and for a moment, all my thoughts were stunted. The universe roared and I braced for it to crumble. I wonder what would happen if it did. This was certainly not the first universe I saw fall, but it was the first time I was trapped inside it.

I searched inside me for my Dweller magic and almost cried in frustration as the usual wisp disobeyed my call. I was most certainly trapped.

Was this how Dwellers died? Would this even count as death? Would I lose my consciousness or forever roam in a distraught world? Was this the end? My end?

“Gris!” A sharp voice tore me out of my desperate thoughts and confused, I looked up. A coldness seeped into my limbs and as I balled my fist, mud squirted through my fingers.

What was going on? Mud inside the house?

No, I wasn’t inside the mansion anymore. A gust of wind tugged on the edges of my cloak and I shivered. I was back in the forest with my hands and knees deep into a puddle of mud. And I wasn’t just back in the mansion, I went back in time.

Just like before, there was a woman standing in front of me. Fredericka. Instinctively, I brought my arms in front of my face and shielded myself from the splinters flying out of the wicker basket as she kicked it towards me.

“Mother, Grisella dropped all the firewood!”

Déjà-vu.

The same clumps of mud were still coating my cloak, but I didn’t care. I pulled the edges tighter around me, just glad to be shielded again. I wouldn’t let them take this away from me, oh no, I wouldn’t be making that same mistake.

“You clutz! Look at you, get cleaned up!” the mother repeated herself, just like expected. Will must’ve just scratched out the last part and catapulted me backwards.

Like earlier, mother and daughter left me alone in the forest with the basket of firewood. They must assume I was following them like last time. Hah, no way that was going to happen. Between a warm house and a creepy, muddy forest, I chose the forest.

I grabbed the basket of tinder, checked if neither of them was looking back, and ran deeper into the darkness. No way was I going back to the mansion. My foot caught behind an extended branch, but I managed to stay upright. With every passing second, I removed myself from the dysfunctional family. I wasn’t going to go back there, no. No chance in…

A strange feeling befell me and I froze. The lonesome flutter of a bat spooked me and as it did, that unmistakable sensation of eyes digging in my back overcame me. Fearful, I turned around.

“Who is there?” I called out, my voice echoing into the forest. The silence answered, but the feeling of being watched didn’t leave me. “Will?”

An unfamiliar scent passed me by and a strange buzzing temporarily stunned my thoughts. As if possessed by another power, my feet started moving again. But not in the right direction.

“Stop.” But it was no use. My feet didn’t listen. Will didn’t listen. Enchanted by the laws of the storymaker, my body returned to the spot I met the two women. I passed the puddle with my knee-prints and desperately begged to be left there. But the universe had different plans for me.

Dread filled my stomach as the mansion doomed up in front of me again. How much was Will going to repeat? For a moment, the magic allowed me to halt in front of the door and quickly, I pulled the cloak from my shoulders. I rather keep it wrapped around me, but chances were that the women would rob me from my protection again. I’d rather hide my cape and go in vulnerable. It wouldn’t make a difference to them either.

I hid the bundled-up mantle in a crevice next to a stone statue and swore to reclaim it later. Not ideal, but definitely better than having it in the possession of those women.

My feet shuffled me inside and the door fell into its lock. A sigh flooded through my chest and I felt the free will return to my limbs. I could try and run again, but it would just land me back here. I had seen and wandered in enough stories to know how it went. Once the storyteller decided something were to happen, the characters could only do so much to change it. And right now, as much as I wanted to deny it, I was a character in Will’s universe.

A captive.

“Finally.” With the same disdain as the first time, Ernestina greeted me. I held back a scoff. Why did I even hope Will changed the story in favour of me?

Not wanting to set off her short temper, I made a slight bow. My hands trembled slightly as I humiliated myself to get on her good side.

“My apologies,” I tried, but the redhead wouldn’t hear any of it. Harshly, she shoved me further into the mansion. Interesting, so no tattling to her mother this time? Well, there was nothing to tattle about, I left my cloak outside and the rags I was wearing underneath were certainly not gossip-worthy.

The same armchairs appeared in front of me and as expected, they were already patterned with the pale roses. Not a surprise, this universe was only partially shaped by what the storyteller actually wrote down. But what happened inside their heads was just as important to build the worlds as they were. Will decided earlier that the chairs had a flower print, so they would stay this way unless he consciously changed it up. Knowing him, he just might.

The mother lit her cigarette and I watched Fredericka do the same. Although this time, her mother allowed the blonde to smoke. Strange, that was certainly a different response than before. And where was Francesca, the manipulative and most shrewd sister of the three?

“Grisella, why are you standing there? You must be cold,” Fredericka breathed, wafting heavy clouds of smoke in my direction. I flinched from the pungent smell, but knew better than to dart back.

Carefully, I avoided anything that I could stumble on and moved closer to the hearth. The fire was comfortably warm and even the faintest flicker of warmth was worth standing in the dense smoke for.

I watched the little vase and wondered if I were fast enough, I’d be able to catch it before one of the sisters tipped it to the ground. The first time around, it was Francesca, but she hadn’t shown herself yet. She must’ve been hiding in the shadows, watching my every move until she found a hint of weakness.

“Gris, I need your help,” Fredericka suddenly purred, her voice just as sweet as I remembered Francesca’s to be. How strange, earlier on she was just copying her mother. But as it was going, she was a lot more autonomous than before. Did Will change her personality? Or did it just become better developed since this was the second run in the universe?

A trickle of lentils fell in front of my face and tinkled onto the floor. Some of them under the chairs, others rolled into the crevices near the walls, and even more bounced into the shallow ashes in the hearth.

“Oops, I dropped something. You should really help me pick them up.”

That definitely sounded more like something the third sister would say, but it was Fredericka taunting me. Not that it mattered, the outcome was the same. Reluctantly, I bend through my knees and humiliated myself again by crawling over the floor. Piece by piece, I picked up the spilled lentils and collected them in the palm of my hand.

Ah, so that’s why Will rewrote the scene. With no sharp edges to cut me, and no revelations of my Dweller existence, my presence wouldn’t violate the laws of his universe. Smart. But I shouldn’t be surprised, I journeyed through enough of his stories to know just how clever he was. Although I definitely preferred to be a bystander than the actual main character of the story.

Loudly, a door slammed open and I looked up from my tedious activity. As big as the living space seemed to be, the man entering immediately filled the whole room. It wasn’t just his size, his aura was imposant and commanded respect. The three women hastily scrambled towards each other and formed a neat little line.

“Father.” Ernestina greeted the man so politely, it was hard to imagine she was the same woman who behaved so nasty towards me.

“Father,” Fredericka repeated, bowing slightly to greet their father.

“Dear, you’ve returned.” The sickeningly sweet tone from the mother made me gag slightly. She was still a hypocrite clearly. Not that that surprised me. She was so vile, I doubted even Will could change her character and turn her into a good person.

“Do you come bearing gifts, Father?” Ernestina asked, twirling her red hair around her finger. If she thought it made her look cute, she was dead wrong. She just looked like a spoiled brat. Well… She was just that, really.

“For my beautiful girls? Of course,” the man answered, his smile surprisingly genuine. He reached inside his pocket and revealed a beautiful necklace with set rubies. “To match your hair.”

Greed flickered through Ernestina’s eyes as she snatched the jewel from his hands and dangled it in front of her sister. “Look what Father brought for me,” she taunted, swaying the gem through the air. Oh how I wished it would snap and break. But at least she wasn’t just mean towards me?

Fredericka scoffed and turned to her father. “What about me?”

“I didn’t forget about you, my dear,” he smiled. From his other pocket, he pulled out a beautiful pair of silver earrings. “To match your eyes.”

The blonde sister grabbed the jewelry out of his hands and held them against her face. “Do I look beautiful, Mother?”

“Very beautiful,” the mother replied, but from her disengaged voice I could tell she didn’t really care.

“And for my oldest daughter…”

I flinched just thinking about Francesca and her appearing from the shadows. Compared to her, the two sisters weren’t all that bad. I scanned the room, wondering from which corner she would reveal herself from.

“I brought you something.” The man smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. No, his eyes held a certain sadness and melancholy I didn’t expect to see. He crouched down next to me and held out his hand. Surprised, I looked up at him. Wasn’t Francesca the oldest of three? But here he was, talking to me. Was it an inconsistency or did Will scrap the third sister from his story altogether?

Relief flooded through my chest at that thought. Yes, that must be it. That was why Fredericka seemed to have more personality than just copying her mother. Will merged the two characters into one and completely erased Francesca’s existence from his universe. Thank goodness.

“For my oldest daughter, my beautiful Grisella… A friend.” He reached inside his vest and placed a small heap of feathers onto his palm. A weak chirp caught my attention and automatically, I held out my hands to receive his present. The bird was small and crumpled up, but I felt his heart beat steadily in his little chest.

The man brushed my cheek more gently than any of the women had treated me and smiled. “I found him clutching this branch. Take good care of him,” he said as he dropped a small twig of hazel in my cupped hands. Immediately, the bird curled his tiny claws around the wood and I felt a warmth bubble up in my gut. A lump formed in my throat and I nodded. Even if this was just a story, a universe that Will made up, this little bird was real. Just as real as any bird I encountered in any of the words I roamed. And he was alone, just like me.

Gingerly, I folded my hands around the small animal and hid him in my lap. If I was stuck here, I would care for this bird in the way I had seen the humans do.

As carefully as I could, I stroked his soft feathers and made a silent promise to protect him. Whatever Will had in store for this little bird, didn’t matter. I wouldn’t let it matter.

I tickled his chest and admired the details on his claws. My finger brushed against the twig and like jolted by electricity, a shock ran through my being. But it wasn’t electricity, no… It was something entirely else, something I’d recognise anywhere.

Magic.

Not allowing myself to hope, I touched the branch again. Another wave of magic rushed through my system and for the first time, I felt joy flicker through me. So there was magic in this universe after all. And like every Dweller, I knew what that meant. If there was magic, there were portals. And I just needed to open one portal long enough so I could escape from this story.

Just one.

“Thank you,” I breathed, trying to contain my excitement as best as I could. Quickly, I hid the bird and the twig in my pocket and brushed the lentils together. I wasn’t sure if this was Will’s intention or not, but he gave me magic. This was my chance. I needed to act now, before the magic left me and the branch. “Father,” I spoke, for the first time tasting a parental word on my tongue. I had never called anyone Father before, but I didn’t want to break any laws again. Being sent back would give me no guarantees that the magic would still be here.

“Yes, my daughter?”

“I forgot something outside…” I tried, my hands trembling as the lie rolled from my tongue.

“Really? What did you forget?” Fredericka sneered from the other side of the room as she admired how the earrings looked on her.

“Oh, errmm… The axe. I forgot the axe,” I made up, crossing my fingers behind my back. If there was no axe in Will’s universe, the walls of this world would shake. But everything stayed calm and stable.

“Stupid girl,” the mother lashed out at me. Something I didn’t recognise flashed through the man’s eyes, but he stayed quiet as his wife hit me with her fan. Luckily, I didn’t experience pain like people did. But still, I cowered under her assault and hoped she would let me go back outside. “What are you still sitting here for? Quick, bring the axe back before it rusts in the rain!”

“Of course, immediately, naturally,” I stammered, scrambling up from the floor. I rushed past the women, one hand deep in my pocket to make sure I wasn’t losing the twig. I narrowly avoided Fredericka tripping me up and my heartbeat only calmed down as I felt the rain hit my face. I rested against the cold door, taking one moment to collect my thoughts. To be certain neither of the sisters followed me outside.

Another minute passed before I felt safe enough to pull my cloak from the crevice. Eagerly, I wrapped myself in the familiar fabric and breathed a sigh of relief. That was much better. Yes, a Dweller wasn’t a real Dweller without the cloak. I wasn’t me without it. I balled my fist and made a silent vow to never allow another person to ever steal the cloak form my back.