Hallowed Kaline (1) (MANUSCRIPT)

Issue # 32 Friends Depart, Pt. 1

        Natalie crawled to Max, the corneas of her eyes red with irritation. 
        "Natalie? We've gotta get you to safety." Max breathed quickly as he put a hand on his friend's shoulder. 
        "GET. OFF. ME!" 
        Max's eyes widened as he was pushed aside. Quickly, they lowered painfully. "N- Natalie, why are you-"
        "GO AWAY. GO FAR, FAR, FAR AWAY!" the girl tossed her hands from side to side. 
        "Poor girl." Aubrey frowned, her face lowering between her shoulders. I couldn't save her friend. This Kyle boy... I wonder what he was like. 
        "N- Natalie." Max shook. Tears drained from his eyes. 
        "YOU. YOU'RE THE REASON. YOU'RE THE REASON FOR ALL THIS CHAOS. ALL THIS DEATH. WE COULD'VE BEEN A HAPPY FAMILY. We could've... subdued faeries and lived out our days as... heroes. BUT YOU'RE NO HERO. KYLE IS DEAD -- MY DAD IS DEAD -- BECAUSE OF YOU." Natalie bit her tongue as she spoke, yet she ignored it as blood jumped out of her mouth. 
        "N- N- Natalie." Maximus's eyes stared off into the distance, his focus falling apart as he began to see double vision. 
        "YOU'RE... A DE'NAVRA. YOU ATTRACTED THE OTHER DE'NAVRA. YOU... ATTRACT LOSS AND ANGUISH! Get out of my life! I HATE YOU MAX!" 
        Falling to the floor, Max curled up into a ball and screamed into his long green jacket. No. No. NO. NO! I'M NOT A FREAK! I'M NOT- damn it. Damn you, Hosanna. Why didn't you get me out of the chair sooner when Kyle was in danger. This is... your fault. 
         Max's eyes rolled back into his head, golden orbs taking consciousness. I... am filled with much regret.
         What? Max looked around himself. 
         Floating chairs. Tables with ice bubbles stuck over their surfaces. Running his hands over a leather surface, he took in the fragrance of a couch. 
          The abandoned wearhouse was gone. Around him... danced another world. White walls with blue-framed paintings. Hat racks with all sorts of scarves and fedoras. As he looked on, Max could see no obvious end to the spectacles around him. 
          A few feet in front of him sat a giant piano. 
         Hovering over it stood a tan figure. A small peck of a love mole rested itself right underneath the man's bottom lip. His glove-covered hands rested over the keys of the keyboard. A fancy assortment of clothes, violet and silver, covered the long-haired stranger. 
         "Z- Z- Zarkadda?" Max narrowed his eyes. "You-" 
        The man turned. "Hm. Nice for you to finally see me in my real form, Maximus. And no. If it wasn't obvious already... I'm not Zarkadda." 

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