Chapter One

I feel like a stranger here. My bedroom is too large. I make a mental note to fill it with more furniture. The bed is almost the same size as my old flat, yet it sits along the back wall like a boat lost at sea, surrounded by empty space. My new TV is huge, but I hardly ever use it. My lounge and dining table are collecting dust. I pace around the room restlessly, not sure if I want to stay or go.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, hanging alone on the wall. I look pale and sickly, but that is nothing new. My hair falls long and straight over an ever thinning body. Only my eyes look alive. They are the colour of the sky in a storm, a deep and beautiful grey. They are my mother’s eyes, and I wish they were all that remained of her, but the rest is still here. It just lives much deeper within. She comes out in my behaviour, and the thoughts I keep under heavy guard. She likes to wait until I am most alone, slipping from memories long buried. As I stare into those dark, stormy eyes, I hear her screams echoing after me. The last words I ever heard her say…

I need to get out of this room.

Dressing in my usual black clothes, tightly fitting and well worn, I leave without taking anything else with me. And I don’t look back.

Two flights of stairs later and I’m on the street. People stream past, walking through the middle of the road without a care. It’s been a long time since I saw a car this deep in the city. There’s music, food, lights, and even the occasional scream - the good kind - the kind that means fun. It’s an endless party out here. I walk the way we all do, those who feel they belong. Like walking on water. A gift to all the world.

‘Solis!’ I turn to see Iver catching up behind me. Tall and endearing, he is the kind of person that is hard not to like. Most days I manage anyway, but not every day. ‘Last time we were out here you said you were quitting all this.’ Iver says in his usual tone, like he’s hidden a joke in his words only he understands. ‘You said it the time before that too, and the time before that.’

‘Let’s just cut to the part where you take me where I want to go or I’ll say it again and go home now.’

Iver’s eyes light up at my words. ‘Nobody’s going home early, this way.’ He puts his arm around me and we walk on together. I don’t mind, Iver’s harmless, and the lightness of his hand on my shoulder reveals which one of us fears the other.

We wander through the streets, the city looks more alive every time I see it, and the people along with it. We pass groups of them as we walk, all looking for the same thing we are. Iver and I stroll between them, a rarity to be in a group as small as two. But every now and then I notice the glances of the strangers who recognise me. The faces that rise in shock before quickly glancing down, afraid to risk a second look.

‘Words spreading,’ Iver says.

‘And after tonight it will be spreading faster,’ I reply, grateful that my voice sounds so calm.

Iver leads me into the heart of the city. There are people everywhere, gathering in large groups and moving into the buildings. All kinds of sounds litter the air but I can always pick out the ones I’m looking for. Like howling creatures, screaming in the night.

‘I’ve been meaning to ask you,’ says Iver as we walk. ‘Have they stopped? The dreams.’

I take my time to answer, and when I speak, it is with a hollow voice. ‘Yeah, they’ve stopped.’

Iver looks at me, his eyes glancing over the dark patches below mine. A sad smile etches across his face.

‘The trick is to never sleep,’ I reassure him, ‘it’s obvious really, I’m surprised it took me this long to figure out.’ I smile, and his expression softens.

‘You know I used to wonder what kept bringing you out here after everything that’s happened. But that was before I learned about those dreams of yours.’

I raise an eyebrow at him. He laughs. ‘Did I ever tell you about my first Collective?’ Iver asks. I shake my head at him, softly, just enough movement for him to see. ‘It was early on, really early on. I was running, trying to get away from the populated areas like everyone else,’ he laughs again, but there’s no joy in it this time. ‘I joined up with this small collective that had the same idea. They were pretty good people, just trying to keep up with the others, you know. But things got worse real quick, you remember what it was like back then, how fucked up it all was.’

Iver’s voice breaks a little, and I can’t help but feel a shadow of pity for him. Nobody can talk about those days without dragging up something painful. Memories that are best left buried in the past.

Iver continues, ‘we weren’t the only ones doing it, all of the Collectives were turning against each other, caught up in the panic I guess. My one had been joined by the wrong kind of people, you know, the ones that enjoyed it. Things weren’t like they are now, they didn’t really know what they were doing but they didn’t need to. They had just enough enthusiasm to get the job done. There was a fight with another group. I only saw the end of it. They had chased off most of them but they had a few trapped. This young bloke and his sister were some of those left behind, he knew what was going to happen to her and what was going to happen to him if he tried to stop it.’ I look up at Iver’s face and see nothing but emptiness there. He pauses, and we walk together a moment in silence, as I wait for him to finish his story. Some people need it. That sense of confession. It was even more pointless now than it was back before the world tore itself apart, but old habits I guess. ‘So the guy, he takes out this little knife, not sure if he created it or just had it on him, but he takes it and kills his sister, right there in front of us.’

I tense instinctively, and Iver feels it.

‘I guess he figured he couldn’t stop them, and couldn’t watch what was about to happen,’ he says, almost more to himself than to me, ‘but he took his sister right out of their hands and he set her free. And then he just stood there, still holding on to her, and just kind of waits for us to kill him too.’ Iver finishes with a tired sigh. ‘Only we didn’t, did we. The guy in charge walks straight up to him, looks him right in the eyes and starts laughing. The rest of them joined in and that was that, the kid ended up staying with our collective for nearly a month or so before making his own way.’

‘He stayed?’ I ask, softly.

‘So do you, in this city,’ Iver answers. ‘The way I see it, there are lines we cross that we can’t come back from Solis.’ He looks at me and a faint smile returns to his face. ‘If you fall deep enough, you stop trying to climb back out. You know the person who fell is gone anyway, why bother when all you will be left with in the end is broken pieces.’

He falls silent again, for a moment. ‘I’ve seen the picture Solis, the one you look at when you think I’m asleep.’

I snap my head around glare at Iver. He rushes on, ‘it’s cool, I mean you don’t have to tell me about it, I just wanted to let you know, if you ever want to talk or anything…’ He lets his words fade away.

I lower my head again, eyes on the road in front of me. I know what Iver is thinking; that my nightmares are like everyone else’s, that I’m damaged and broken and have stopped looking for a way back to being whole. I let him think that, let him see me as the fragile creature he wants me to be. Beautiful but broken. Someone worth saving.

But it’s a lie. My nightmares aren’t just about the things I’ve done, or horrors from the past. They are filled with the things I want to do, when the moon is high and the people of this city scream out for something real. I dream about my pleasure. And I dream about their pain.

--- Iver makes a turn down a street into an area of the city I’ve never been to before. I’m not worried, Iver knows this place much better than I do, and he knows where the best collectives are.

The door we arrive at is a deep red, and it shakes from the noise behind it. The building looks like an old warehouse, and it pulses like a beating heart, barely containing the collective inside. We wait there for just a few moments, letting the sounds wash over us. Then we go inside.

The moment I step through the door I can tell there is something different about tonight. The collective feels strange. I’ve been to so many of these now that I was almost starting to think they had nothing new to offer me, but standing here in this dark hallway I know, something is different about this one, something big has changed.

A voice rings out from within the shadows, ‘Welcome, to Eden.’

Iver can’t help himself, he laughs heartily before replying. ‘Eden? You’re joking right, please tell me they’re not forcing you to say that to everyone that comes through here tonight Jonah.’

The man named Jonah steps out in front of us, and I can’t help but laugh a little too at the look he gives Iver. ‘Yeah fucking hilarious mate, it’s called setting the mood. It’s working too. I’m telling you, people are loving it tonight, the boss really went above and beyond for this one, just wait until you see inside.’

Iver grins as he steps forward to shake Jonah’s hand. ‘So I’ve heard,’ he says, ‘and it’s definitely working, I’ve never felt anything like this.’

‘And it’s still building,’ replies Jonah, excitedly, ‘they’ve been waiting for a few key players to arrive.’ He looks at me as he says this, his eyes glancing over my body before his gaze meets mine. ‘So this is Solis?’

I stare back at him, a large balding man I recognise from previous collectives, one of the usual crowd Iver associates with. He knows exactly who I am and any pretense otherwise is just a way for him to get a proper introduction, something I strictly avoid at these places. I don’t come here to fraternise the way Iver does, I have much more important things on my mind.

‘Yep, you guessed it,’ I reply lazily, ‘and the mood has been successfully set, what-ever would we have done without you.’ The sarcasm in my tone is far from subtle yet Jonah stands there looking unsure. I feel glad to know my assumption about his intelligence was spot on.

Iver brushes my words off with a laugh, jumping in quickly, ‘don’t mind her Jonah, short patience this one, we should really head inside.’

‘Yeah, yeah of course, they’ll be wanting to know she’s arrived anyway, better get going,’ says Jonah, ushering us down the corridor with a wave of his arm.

I stay right where I am, and give Iver a threatening look. ‘What is he talking about?’

Iver looks guilty but not all that worried, ‘It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.’

‘Doesn’t sound like nothing,’ I reply coldly.

‘I’ve just had a few requests, that’s all. People that have heard about you and wanted you here tonight.’ The look I give Iver says everything I need it to. He starts looking a whole lot more worried. ‘It’s no big deal honestly, the people running this thing just want tonight to be a big deal you know, they wanted the best creators they could get. Your name came up, it’s a compliment really, if you think about,’ Iver finishes weakly, flashing me an apologetic smile.

I keep my face expressionless, and I reply softly, my words falling slow. ‘I’m not some pawn in someone else’s game Iver. I decide what I create, nobody else. You tell them that from me.’ I turn to walk back through the door.

‘Solis.’ The tone in Iver’s voice stops me. There is something new in it I’ve never heard before. ‘I’m sorry alright, let’s just go inside, we’ve come all this way.’ He tries to sound apologetic, to make me feel like this is all still about us. But his voice has already given the truth away. Iver is scared.

I turn back around and look at him. The darkness of the hallway masks too much of his face to gain much from it, but he seems to stand less tall, his shoulders slack and his head bowed ever so slightly. For someone like Iver, he may as well have been on his knees.

‘Come on Solis, I know you can feel it too, we can’t miss this one.’ He tries to sound convincing, and he does a fine job of it, as any accomplished liar could. But I hear it again, exposed in the lull of his words, shrouded by the sounds still coming from beyond the hallway, but clear as day to anyone who knows how to listen for it. Whoever has asked Iver to bring me here tonight, it is someone you don’t say no to.

I should leave, I know. But I don’t. I stay right where I am, struggling with my own raging mind. Iver is right, and he knows I won’t leave, not with an opportunity like this. The collective is different, we both feel it and we both know how much I’ve craved for something better than the usual scene we frequent, stuck on repeat night after night. This collective might be what I’ve been hoping for. And whomever it is that wants me here tonight will find out soon enough, if they are looking for someone to do things their way, they will not find it in me.

‘You’re a total arsehole, you know that,’ I say to Iver, but he picks up on my light tone, and I can see the relief in his eyes as a grin creeps back onto his face.

‘Of course I know that! Like I could forget when I spend this much time with you,’ he teases.

I walk forward and take his arm. ‘This better be worth it,’ I mutter.

Iver laughs, ‘of course it will be, it’s fucking Eden after all.’

Jonah watches us go. I glance back to him, and just before his face dips back into shadow I see a look in his eyes I don’t quite understand. It’s not a look I give to people very often, and I rarely bring it out in others. It was only for a moment but I’m sure I saw it. Jonah was looking at Iver and I with pity.

Every step I take down that darkened corridor brings with it new doubt. My rising fear, my sprinting heart, and my mother’s voice ringing out; you might as well be dead already if you think anyone cares about you more than they care about themselves.

--- At first I can’t make sense of what I’m seeing. There is too much movement, too much detail that it all blends into one. My eyes adjust, my mind sharpens, and the people come into focus.

They dance to deep rhythmic music, their bodies move like ripples through water. Everywhere I turn I see people writhing in ecstasy, to the music and each other. They move like a living thing. I can see creation in the details. The strength they move with and the way they seem to step so lightly upon the ground, like gravity has lost its hold on them.

I look around at the huge space before me, covered by the dancing people. It looks like it was once a large factory, from a time when such things were still needed. Huge floodlights bathe the room in different colours, obscuring the features of the dancing people.

Iver leans closer to whisper in my ear. ‘They’ve been waiting for us.’ I look around and see he’s right. A group is approaching us, and I feel myself shiver.

‘Tell them I say thanks but no thanks. Or don’t tell them anything, it really doesn’t make a difference at this point,’ and with that I slip into the crowd, disappearing amongst the dancing people.

It feels beyond amazing. Better than I had expected, and far better than I had let myself hope for. My body feels like it is made of air. I move seamlessly, more like a path of mind than something physical.

In amongst the people I find creation. Wine pours out of thin air into the mouths of those who desire it, clothing disappears from the bodies of those seeking to feel flesh on flesh, and blood runs across the floor around those who want to test their new limits in more destructive ways. Wherever there is desire, the collective provides. Screams and moans and laughter echo through the room, like an infinite melody adding to the booming music. I love it more than I can say. And it is time I got started.

My first creation, as always, is designed to draw in a crowd. I clench my fists together and then open them to a rush of heat and light as my hands burst into flames. I hear faint gasps around me as people begin to move away, and as they go I take their space, dancing with well practiced steps, the fire twirling around me. People take notice, they always do. Creating fire is dangerous. It takes control to keep the heat moving outwards, something most people lose very quickly in the thrill of a collective. I light my feet on fire as well and dance even more wildly, a dazzling show of spinning flames in perfect timing with the music. And as more and more people gather to watch I feel their influence, their desire for more, fueling me. I set my hair ablaze next, to the roaring approval of the crowd. I know what I must look like to them; a burning spectre, dancing with death. My body moves in ways that it never could without the influence of the collective around me. It’s dangerous but I don’t feel afraid, I never do. I feel invincible, and I’m only just beginning.

My next creation looks more impressive than it actually is. I keep the fire burning, but I focus most of my attention on making a shadow version of myself. It appears a few feet in front of me, a dark spectre in my exact shape. When I move, it moves, and we begin a slower dance together, my shadow copying my every move. The people around me scream their approval, and I feel their influence on me continue to grow. The more power they want me to have, the more I get.

Then the music stops.

The room goes dark.

A line of red floor lights remain, encircling a raised platform over on the wall on the far side of the factory. I lose my concentration and let my creations fade away. All around me people are looking around in confusion, like they have just been woken up and don’t quite know where they are. The ones who are locked together begin breaking apart, all except the most passionate few. The rest begin to turn their attention to the platform, its glowing red lights now the most defining thing in the room.

I feel furious. The joy I had just moments ago has been completely wiped clean. I stand there, deflated and fuming, my eyes on that red platform, like everyone else’s.

A deep vibrating sound begins to fill the room. It echoes out from the platform and the people’s confusion begins to change into excitement. It’s clear now that something important is happening, and the people are eager to find out what.

I scowl at the whole thing. Glowing lights and a simple vibrating sound draws the entire crowd in. No skill put into it at all, they’re just exploiting a simple truth; that people love to be kept waiting. That feeling of standing on the edge, fantasising about what’s coming. Anticipation is a drug, and these people are swallowing it down like the true addicts they are.

A figure emerges on the stage, and the crowd goes wild. He is bathed in red light, tall and obscured by shadow. The vibrating sound is louder, pulsating and deep. It resounds in an almost metallic kind of way. I know it’s probably just some old machinery, left over from when this place was still a factory, but the effect it has on the crowd is powerful. I can feel the vibrations running through my entire body and by the looks on everyone’s faces they can too. It does exactly what it’s meant to do; make us feel like our excitement is a physical thing, barely being contained.

The figure walks all the way out to the front of the platform. I can see him clearly now. A huge man with broad shoulders and dark features. Despite his size, there is no trace of intimidation in the way he holds himself. His confidence is genuine. The people nearest to him seem to be chanting something, a name, but not one I know, and I can’t quite seem to make out what they’re saying. Whoever he is, he is well known amongst these people, and he stares out over the crowd a moment longer, letting their cheers carry on, before raising an arm in a call for silence.

‘Had I not seen it with my own eyes, I would not have thought it was possible to have a collective as limitless as the one we’ve created here tonight.’ He speaks deeply and rhythmically, it reminds me of music. There is a roaring cheer from the crowd at his words. ‘I’ve seen creation flow from your minds as easily as breath flows from your bodies. You are pushing the limits of your collective selves. Pioneers of this new world!’ More cheers, more excitement, and the anticipation grows.

Gotta hand it to him, he is good, I think to myself reluctantly.

‘I offer you my congratulations, and my gratitude, it’s an honour to be here amongst you all, the Creators of Eden.’ The roar of the crowd grows again, but the man’s words remain clearly heard over the noise. ‘We have reached into the heavens and plucked the gifts of the gods down for ourselves, and we have learned how to use these gifts, to take creation out of their hands, and grasp it firmly in our own.’ As the man speaks, he seems to change, his silhouette against the crimson lights grows with every word, every cheer of the crowd. He looms over then now, a towering figure twice the size of a normal man. The people pour their desire into him, and he feasts on it lavishly. ‘We have always been gifted, always been unique among living things, and it is finally time we take our place among the divine. We will turn this collective into the birthplace of the next great era in human history, the way it has always been done. Through sweat and blood!’

The crowd thunders, the ground shakes, and I look up at the man on stage like I am seeing him for the first time.

He wants what I want, and he’s proved he’s better at getting it than I am. He drew this crowd here, he let the collective build to its peak, and now he has focused it, harnessed it. Sweat and blood. I say the words to myself, and my voice joins the roar of the crowd, as I hunger like the rest of them for what’s coming next.

‘I call upon each and every one of you to place your faith in me, but I do not ask for something I can not earn.’ He pauses for a brief moment, and when he continues his voice has changed. It is subtle but it’s definitely there, an underlying tone of threat. ‘The best creators in this city are here tonight. They are amongst you and to them I say this. Give these people something to believe in. I offer you a simple challenge - knock me off this platform and you may take my place on it.’ He stands over us like a giant, letting the silence linger so his words have time to settle. ‘You came here for power and you came here to be free. Well now is your chance. Is there any among you that thinks they can take both of these things from me?’ he finishes with his arms raised by his sides, impossibly large.

I hardly breathe. This is beyond anything I could have come up with. This man has the power of an entire collective behind him, and he’s adding to it by daring all those who want it for themselves to come and take it. Daring me to come and take it.

I don’t move. I stand there with my heart racing and my mind keeping pace, desperate to win this challenge, and desperately wondering how.

And then another person takes the stage.

They move like lightning, rushing towards the huge man at incredible speed. As they move, their body begins to curl into a tight ball, glossy where the light hits it, as if they were made of metal. The giant is too slow, there is nothing he can do to stop it. It’s over in seconds, the speeding ball of metal encasing the person crashes into the man, there is a sound like thunder. And then it is over.

I stare at the stage in disbelief. The giant is still standing there in the exact same spot as before. The only difference is the crumpled figure lying on the floor at his feet, very much made of flesh and bones again.

I can’t understand it. No matter what size you are, a blow like that can’t just be shrugged off like it was nothing. The challenger put everything he had into it, that speed was incredible.

I watch the man on stage as he looks down at the person lying in front of him. And then I notice it, the disproportion between his legs and the rest of his body, like he had inflated his lower half and was now letting it shrink back to normal. But the more I watch the more I realise what is happening. He hasn’t inflated his legs, he has absorbed some of the floor, drawing it up and around himself as much as he could in the few seconds he had before the impact. It took the brunt of the force, so he didn’t have to. The floor was now retreating, and within moments the man can move freely again. He bends down and gently, lifts the body off the floor. Turning to face the crowd, he tosses the person out into the masses.

As the body falls, limp and broken, I glimpse their face for the first time. It’s nobody I know but it is someone I recognise, a regular at big collectives, and a good creator, but not as good as me.

I look back at the man on stage and I know, as powerful as he is in this moment, he is not invincible.

As if in agreement, a chain appears out of thin air and wraps itself around the man’s neck. The chain pulls tight and for the first time tonight the man looks shaken. He is forced to take a step back and his hands reach for the chain strangling him, hoping to loosen its hold. I follow the taut line down to the other end of the platform and see two people, a man and women, grasping it with strained faces as they pull with everything they have. The crowd watches in awe, the giant trying and failing to loosen the chain around his neck, and his attackers holding on relentlessly.

It’s a clever tactic, going for a vulnerable spot, weakening the man before trying to remove him. But their efforts are short lived. The giant gives up trying to loosen the chain, he looks at his attackers, calm and menacing, as he grabs the taut line and begins pulling them in towards him. They struggle, they resist, and for what it’s worth, they put up a good fight. But it’s not enough. The giant pulls the chain right out of their hands. He removes it from around his neck, breathing in deeply, before turning his attention back to them.

It’s over quickly and brutally. He moves fast for a man so large, and he is fueled by the crowd, who worship him more and more with every passing moment.

The bodies are hurled off the stage like the one before them, the man raises his arms at the roaring crowd and seems to grow ever larger as their shouts reach new levels of adoration Each victory further ensures the next, giving him more of the power he so openly desires. But his desires are nothing compared to mine.

I’m moving forwards, without really thinking about it, propelling myself towards the stage. The crowd slows me, so I leave them behind, floating upwards until I can run over the top of the people below me, stepping lightly on their heads, so fleeting and so fast that it goes unnoticed. And the closer I get, the larger he becomes. A giant, or a god, he seems to take up at least ten times the amount of space as a normal man, and his eyes lock onto mine as he sees me hurtling towards him. I see him smile.

As I take my last steps towards the stage, I begin to change too. Not upwards and outwards, as he has done. But inwards, shrinking what was already a small frame, so as I land on the platform I appear little more than a child, slim and breakable. A threat to exactly no one.

The crowd’s reaction tells me everything I need it to, I hear laughter echoing out from all across the room. Good, I think, listen to the crowd, make the same mistake they are.

I look up at the giant, trying to appear as frightened as I can, and I see my prayers answered. He isn’t just smiling anymore, he is outright laughing with all the others, arrogant in his victories, and easily willing to believe that the only one mad enough left to challenge him is this desperate little girl he sees before him. So I bait my trap. I stand as tall as possible and raise my middle fingers to the giant with both hands. I mouth fuck you for added effect, and watch as the man roars with laughter.

I take the moment to shrink myself even further. I barely reach the man’s knees at this point, and my defiance is only making me seem smaller in his eyes, a disobedient child, tantruming for something I know I can’t have. I keep it up. I start yelling at him, my voice as high as I can get it, ‘it’s not fair, you cheat, this is total bullshit and you know it!’ I try to sound angry in a youthful, whinging kind of way, and I think I do a pretty good job. On the inside I am calm, and I wait.

The man is walking towards me, his body is relaxed and he still has that grin spread across his face. ‘You might want to consider jumping off this stage, little one,’ he says loudly, directing it more at the crowd than at me. I understand why. Everything he has right now he has because the crowd is on his side, the desires of the entire collective all focused on him. Hurting someone as defenseless as me might change that. I smile back at him, partly for show, but mostly it’s genuine.

I let him walk closer, until he towers over me, just an arm’s reach away. The crowd watches, and I watch too, and the man, still with laughter on his lips, reaches down to grab me.

The stone I have in my hand is small and smooth. It is as dense as I can make it, which isn’t as dense as I would like, creating something from nothing on your own is not an easy thing, and this was the best I could do.

I swing my arm like a pendulum, loose and powerful, it sends the stone hurtling at blurring speed. It impacts on the man’s forehead, snapping the man’s head back violently. He stumbles and sways for a brief moment before falling face first towards the ground.

I dash out of the way, the giant lands with a resonant thud right where I had been standing moments ago. He seems smaller now, like he is shrinking back to normal size, or perhaps it is just that I have grown, no longer the tiny thing he saw me as.

The crowd falls silent in time with the fading echo of the giant’s fall. I turn from the man and stare out at them. They stare right back.

And then the noise begins again. And it is as loud as it ever was. The people cheer and scream and roar their approval, and this time it is for me.