(One week after the defeat of Feth'rael)
During the attack by Feth'rael, Mike Thomas had been on leave from his security job at a psychiatric hospital, enjoying a holiday with his family. In fact, his mind was still so wrapped up in holiday mode that he only realised he had company when his colleague, Carlos, buzzed himself into the security office.
"Are you still in holiday mode, Mick?" Carlos asked, grinning.
"If it's a choice between the warm Florida sun and a cold security office in Nowheresville, Idaho, can you blame me?" Mike asked with a wry smile. "Although after three days of the boys telling me how wonderful the fairies on TV were I was kind of glad to get back here."
"Not the same without you here, man," Carlos said as he took a sip from his bottle of water, looking at the clock on the wall. "Shouldn't you be patrolling right now?"
"Crap," Mike exclaimed, getting out of his chair and grabbing one of the walkie-talkies. "Good thing you reminded me."
"See you in a bit, mate!" Carlos called after Mike as he walked out the door.
"Don't get too comfortable, Carlos!" Mike called back just as the door closed.
He began his patrol down the corridor, past relatively peaceful rooms; most of the patients were either asleep, reading a book, or watching television. In fact, the patients were always so relaxed and peaceful that he and Carlos often wondered what had caused them to be referred in the first place, although as no more than a mere security guard he knew his opinion would matter little to the professionals.
He'd almost made it to the end of the first corridor without incident when he stopped outside the final door. Strange noises were emanating from within, and when he opened the door he reached for his walkie-talkie. "Carlos, the patient in room 12, is she supposed to have writing tools?"
"Oh, you weren't here, were you?" Carlos replied. "The professor said she could as long as they weren't sharp objects; allowing her to indulge her creative side might help her recovery." There were a few moments of silence. "Is something wrong, Mike?"
"No, not at all," Mike replied, watching for a moment before shaking his head, closing the door, and walking into the next section of rooms.
Room 12 contained only one occupant: a teenage girl with curly ginger hair who had indeed put her writing tools to good use. Covering huge swathes of the walls were the same four words written repeatedly, in various font sizes:
The Ravens Are Coming
The Ravens Are Coming
The Ravens Are Coming
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Fairy War
काल्पनिकSet on an alternate Earth not all that different to ours, fairytales have been outlawed, governments believing that the best way to prepare young people for the world is to expose them to reality as early as possible. But a horrible mistake has been...
