EVELYN

Evelyn wasn't ready for what lay ahead, but she tried her best to keep those worries to herself. As she stood before the row of heavy glass doors at the entrance of the mall, her eyes snagged on the lottery ticket she'd wedged in the doorway. It hadn't been long since she'd been standing here with Jonathan, but the weather had battered the piece of paper nearly beyond recognition. Even so, Evelyn spied her own swirling cursive carved into its surface as the scrap of paper flapped weakly in the cold, March wind like the final leaf on a winter branch.

"What's that?" Elliot asked, peering past her to get a closer look.

"Nothing important," she said, turning away. The Evelyn who had written that seemed like a different person entirely.

Liz was examining the warnings scrawled across the doorways in faded graffiti in angry block lettering. Though her expression was shrouded by a cloth mask, Evelyn could still tell that she was worried.

Evelyn glanced up at the sky that was already beginning to darken. It hadn't been so long ago that the moon that was rising overhead had been her only companion, back when she'd been convinced that the Soulless were more dormant at night. There was still so little they knew about Soullessness, she realized. Amid the web of misinformation and lies from River District, the Serenity Society, and NeuroGen, one thing was clear: no one truly knew what these creatures were.

What he had become.

She didn't know what state he'd be in when they found him, or if they'd even find him at all. She wasn't sure which scared her more. Evelyn reached into her pocket and flicked on Jonathan's Walkman, drowning out her thoughts with the music. She hadn't taken off the earbuds since Liz had given them to her.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Liz asked.

Evelyn hefted the hatchet; they'd scavenged from the garage they'd stayed in the night before and took a deep breath. She adjusted the mask covering her face and then offered Liz and Elliot a quick, decisive nod. This was something she had to do.

Liz said nothing but tightened her grip on the knife she'd taken from the garage. It was small, but in this world, it was better than nothing. Elliot offered a double thumbs up in response and without further delay, the Li siblings, pried open the doors and entered.

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The mall seemed eerily deserted, probably thanks to Jonathan's "taxi line" system. Still, Evelyn's heart remained in her throat as they navigated the rows of darkened storefronts. Even though Liz kept clicking her tongue at Elliot to remind him to stay close, it was far too quiet for Evelyn's liking. She resisted the urge to turn up the volume on Jonathan's Walkman. She needed to be alert, just in case. As they made their way across the top floor, the expansive glass roof cast beams of scattered moonlight across the floor like light through a prism.

It was only once the faded red signage of Sunrise Records came into view that Evelyn felt the pit of doubt begin to take root again in her stomach.

Swallowing her fears, she turned to face her siblings, holding out a hand motioning for them to wait for her outside the store. Above his mask, Elliot squinted at her curiously but, Liz gently laid a hand on his shoulder and motioned for Evelyn to go.

Evelyn nodded at her siblings to communicate her gratitude and then slowly approached the store. The gate was locked, just as they'd left it, but Evelyn tried to remind herself that that was a good sign. That meant he could be in there. Locking the door was second nature to the Soulless, and those few who actually remembered to come home nearly always made sure to lock it.

Sunrise Records was just as they'd left it too. The rows and rows of vinyl and CDs were untouched, but somehow, now it seemed colder, uninhabited. The strings of Christmas lights were dark, and Evelyn felt her heart plummet. The store was abandoned. She slumped against the doorway. Perhaps he hadn't escaped after all. Perhaps he'd been gunned down, or was wandering the streets of Vancouver somewhere or... She didn't want to even consider the possibility of him being recaptured...

Then she heard a slight rustling and there was a soft, almost imperceptible cough from inside the store. Evelyn's breath caught in her throat. She stood perfectly still as the sound echoed again—faint but undeniably there.

Her heart pounded, a mixture of hope and fear churning in her chest. He was in there. Jonathan was in there.

She hadn't realized how much she'd been holding on to the possibility until now, until she stood on the threshold of the place that had once been a sanctuary for both of them. It felt like a lifetime ago when they had wandered the aisles together, talking about music and her mission to find her family.

A clink of metal against metal came from inside the store, and her pulse quickened. She had to be sure.

Evelyn swallowed hard, pulling the Walkman from her ears and pocketing it. She gave one last glance to her siblings outside, signaling for them to wait, and then pushed gently on the gate. It creaked open slightly, the rusted locks protesting as it moved. Her fingers trembled on the combination locks as she slowly inputted the codes until the gate was open just wide enough for her to slip through.

She stepped inside, the familiar musty scent of old records filling her lungs, but this time it didn't feel comforting. It felt like the remnants of something broken. Something lost.

Her eyes searched the darkness for any movement, any sign of Jonathan.

It was quiet—too quiet—but she could hear a faint rustling from the back of the store, near the office where Jonathan had once spent hours sorting through the inventory.

Evelyn crept forward, her hand tightening around the hatchet. She didn't want to believe it, but she couldn't help the doubt gnawing at her. Maybe he wasn't in there. Maybe she was chasing a ghost.

But then, she saw it.

A flash of movement behind the counter. A figure. It was too tall to be anyone else.

"Jonathan?" Her voice cracked as she called his name, the sound sharp in the stillness of the store.

There was a long pause, and then—slowly—the figure turned. Evelyn's heart leapt into her throat, and for a moment, she couldn't breathe. The person standing there was gaunt and pale, with eyes like white marbles, wide and too bright in the darkness. His clothes hung loosely off his frame, and his hair was wild, unkempt. His skin looked sickly under the dim light, thick black veins crisscrossed his skin like spider webs sprouting from the bite mark on his shoulder and the bruises on his arms and neck.

It was him, but not him.

Jonathan's face was twisted in a strange mix of recognition and something else—something unhuman. His lips parted, but no sound came out at first, just a low rasp, like a breath caught too long in his chest.

Evelyn's stomach churned, and she took a half step forward. "Jonathan," she whispered, her voice shaky. "It's me. It's Evelyn."

He blinked at her, and for a moment, his gaze softened—just the faintest flicker of recognition. His hand twitched at his side, and Evelyn's heart surged with the hope that maybe, just maybe, he was still there beneath whatever this thing was.

But then his eyes darkened again, and his lips curled into a twisted grin.

The Soulless.

He wasn't Jonathan anymore. At least not fully.

Evelyn froze, her breath catching in her throat as she backed away. He moved toward her, slow but deliberate, his gaze fixed on her with an unsettling intensity. There was nothing human about the way he moved now. No hesitation, no warmth—just a predatory focus.

She tried to force down the emotions she felt bubbling to the surface. She raised the hatchet defensively, her hands trembling with the weight of what she might have to do. The mask of protection she had forced herself to wear was slipping, and the full weight of what this encounter meant hit her like a wave. She had known this was a possibility, but facing it was something else entirely.

Jonathan stopped a few feet away from her, and for a moment, he just stared. The grin on his face faltered, and there was a flicker of something behind his eyes—something faint, something that almost resembled... guilt? Almost.

Then the moment passed.

And the Soulless, the thing that had once been Jonathan, lunged.

The world seemed to slow. Evelyn barely had time to react before he was on her, his hand closing around her wrist in a vise-like grip. The hatchet fell to the floor with a dull thud as she fought to break free. She kicked out, her foot connecting with his chest, but it didn't seem to faze him. Her heart was pounding in her ears, her mind racing.

From the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of movement—Liz and Elliot were inside, rushing toward them.

"Evelyn!" Liz shouted; her voice sounded strained as she tried to mask the desperation in it.

Evelyn barely registered her sibling's voice before she felt a sharp pull on her arm. Jonathan had twisted her wrist, and she felt the strain on her bones. Pain shot up her arm, and she gasped, trying to break free.

But then, he staggered back, a strangled sound escaping his throat as he released her arm. The world spun as Evelyn collapsed to the floor, disoriented and in shock.

Jonathan let out a low growl, as he dragged himself back into the back-office room, slamming the door behind him. Through the haze, she saw Liz, knife in hand, her expression grim. Elliot stood beside her, eyes wide, face pale.

Evelyn couldn't breathe.

"Barricade the door." Liz shouted to Elliot who sprang into action, quickly moving to help her push the couch in front of the door.

"Are you okay?" Liz's voice was urgent, but Evelyn could barely hear her.

The world tilted again, and everything went black.

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"What happened?" The words were out of Evelyn's mouth even before her eyes fluttered open. She realized that she was lying on the floor of the record shop. Elliot was sprawled out next to her, chewing on a piece of beef jerky while Liz was by the counter, pacing. Evelyn glanced down at her wrist, it had been splinted and wrapped in cloth. The sharp pain had been replaced by a dull ache. As her eyes adjusted to the dim florescent lights, she realized that the old mall generators must have kicked in. The lights were emitting a gentle hum but otherwise remained on, supported by the warm glow of the Christmas lights.

"It's okay," Elliot soothed, offering her a piece of beef jerky, "you're okay."

By the counter, Liz stopped pacing, "No. She's not okay! He broke her goddamn wrist!"

"It's just a bad sprain, you said it yourself!" Elliot protested, trying to calm his sister.

Realizing that her temper was rising, Liz closed her eyes and took a controlled breath. She sighed, turning to acknowledge Evelyn, "He almost killed you!"

"But, he didn't." Evelyn said, "so what happened?"

Liz shook her head incredulously, "I can't believe I let you do this— we should never have taken this risk!"

"It's not your fault, Liz!" Evelyn said, trying to keep her voice calm, "This was my call. Not yours! I'm so sorry I put us in this danger!"

Liz rolled her eyes and then turned to poke at the record players connected to the multi-outlet surge protector, half-heartedly.

"What happened?" Evelyn asked again breathlessly, glancing towards the back of the store, where the couch still blocked the door to the back office, "One second he was attacking and the next—"

"He stopped." Elliot said softly, "I don't think you would have survived if he didn't... stop himself."

"But—?"

"How?" Elliot finished for her, shrugging and glancing back over at Liz who had resumed her nervous pacing, "Liz seems to think maybe he's still in the last stages of being a Lost Soul. He recognized you, I think."

"But he'll be gone in a day or two." Liz said flatly, "I've seen it before. He'll succumb to the starvation or dehydration and then he'll be Soulless."

She heaved another heavy sigh and then snatched up her mask and knife off the counter. "I need some air." She said finally, "see if we can't find some more food or something."

Evelyn moved to stand but Liz shook her head. "Evie, you stay. Elliot and I will go. You're a liability right now."

Elliot stood reluctantly and reached for his mask. He shot Evelyn an apologetic glance but picked up Evelyn's hatchet to follow Liz out of the store. With effort, Evelyn got to her feet and followed her siblings.

It must have been morning or early afternoon because as they opened the soundproofing curtains, light streamed into the record shop, bathing their little world with light.

"Don't do anything stupid." Liz instructed as Evelyn moved to lock them out of the store.

Evelyn nodded, knowing she'd already gotten them in enough trouble.

"And keep that elevated, we'll be back soon." She said gesturing to Evelyn's wrist. There was the slightest look of guilt in her eyes as she said the words, but Evelyn knew that it was her own naivety that had gotten them in this situation, but she also knew that there was nothing she could say or do that would convince Liz not to shoulder the blame.

Once they'd gone, Evelyn glanced at the back of the store. It was eerily silent, aside from her own breathing as if she were the only one there. Of course, she knew she wasn't.

Her heart felt heavy in her chest. The image of his face and white marble eyes, haunted her more than she could begin to comprehend. Finally, desperate to quiet her thoughts, she began flicking through the collection of records, her fingers fumbling through the dusty album covers.

For a moment, she feared the album might be missing, but then, buried deep within the stack, she finally found it. She remembered seeing it when she'd first gone through Jonathan's collection, back when he'd been unconscious, and she'd needed something—anything—to distract her while she waited for him to wake up.

Carefully, she slid the vinyl out of its envelope and carried it over to one of the record players plugged into the wall. Her hands moved almost automatically over the device as she carefully, lifted the arm and lowered it slowly onto the spinning vinyl. The moment the needle touched down; a faint crackle filled the room. Then the sound softened, and the music began.

A teary smile lifted the corners of her lips as the world seemed to melt away to Jonathan Larson's song "Come to your Senses" from his semi-autobiographical musical, tick, tick, BOOM! The song always made her feel sentimental. She'd long loved showtunes, yet every time she heard this one, she was reminded of the tragic story of its composition and lyricist. It had been originally created for a Larson's musical SUPERBIA, an unrealized project that was never completed and eventually found its way into another one of his projects. Larson had tried to establish himself in theater since the early 1980s, but died before his most famous work, Rent, brought the success he'd spent his whole life working towards.

The lyrics flooded her with a wave of bittersweet nostalgia. She could almost hear Jonathan's voice—his playful teasing, his sharp observations, the way he'd gently mock her for her love of show tunes. He probably would've judged her selection, criticizing it as "too on the nose" perhaps, but she couldn't help it. She'd come to love it when she felt that songs perfectly described a moment.

It was a strange comfort now.

The melody echoed through the empty record store, enveloping Evelyn in an aching quiet that seemed to match the emptiness that had settled in her chest. Her mind flashing back to the hours she'd sat across from Jonathan in this very store, talking. The way they'd laughed together when he'd dragged her into an impromptu sing-along, making a game out of choosing songs from the endless stacks of vinyl. It felt like a lifetime ago, the world they'd inhabited back then.

Evelyn closed her eyes, letting the music wash over her. The words seemed to speak directly to her heart, and she wished she could pull herself out of the fog of confusion and grief.

But how could she? She shot a glance at the door at the back of the store, barricaded by the threadbare red sofa. How could she ever face the boy on the broadcast who had once been her anchor, the boy who was now... that thing?

She drew in a shaky breath, trying to calm herself. The moment she'd seen those white, marble eyes, the way he had stared at her, as if he was remembering something and then forgetting it all over again—it had been like watching a light go out. The thing in front of her hadn't been Jonathan. It couldn't have been. But he had known her. He had hesitated.

Evelyn's hand went to her chest, where a faint ache had begun to settle. Her wrist throbbed, a dull reminder of how close she'd come to losing herself. To losing everything.

The music continued, and though it was soothing in its melancholy, it only reminded her of the person she was before—the person she was supposed to be. The person who had hope, who had a family to fight for. But somehow, without him, her reality had shifted in a way she couldn't undo, and there was no going back.

"He'll be gone in a day or two," Liz's words echoed in her mind, and Evelyn clenched her fist around the sleeve of her jacket. Liz's certainty stung. He was caught in a race against time, one he could not run from forever.

The sound of the needle scraping against the vinyl pulled her from her thoughts, and she hurriedly stood, lifting it off the turntable before the music could fade into a screeching halt. She didn't want it to be over yet—not this song, not this moment. She wasn't ready.

There was a gentle rustling and thumping coming from behind the door and curiosity seemed to pull her like a gravitational force towards the sound.

The sound turned muffled, and it took a moment for her to realize that someone was speaking. He was speaking.

Cautiously, she climbed up on the couch and pressed her ear against the door.

"It's not real, it's not real, it's not real." He repeated in a harsh whisper, "not real, not real, not real."

Evelyn's breath hitched in her throat.

"Jonathan?" She asked, her voice was hesitant, but she tried her best to keep it neutral.

"No, no, no." She could hear him muttering behind the door, the sounds of thumping and banging increased and she wondered if he was hitting his head against the wall.

"That's not real. She's not here. She's not here." He told himself.

"It's Evie," She said gently, hoping against hope, that she could reach him, "I'm here. This is real."

"Evie?" He repeated, turning her name over in his mouth as if trying to find a memory to connect it to.

"Do you... remember me?" She asked, squeezing her eyes shut so the tears wouldn't fall. She didn't know how she was keeping her voice from shaking but somehow, she was managing it. No big emotions.

There was a pause and for a moment she wondered if he'd lapsed back into soullessness again.

"Yes." He said quietly and Evelyn felt a rush of emotions threaten to burst from her chest, but she did her best to hold them within her.

"I told you I would come back for you." She reminded him gently.

"You... came back... for me." He whispered, trying to convince himself of the words.

Another pause.

"You're here?"

"Yes."

"Did—did I hurt you?"

Evelyn shook her head. Tears burned her eyes, but a smile played on her lips, "No. you didn't."

"I—I didn't know if you were real. I still don't—" He stammered. His voice was soft and fragile sounding, but Evelyn hung on every word.

"I'm real. I'm here." She promised.

"Hey, Evie?" His voice sounded small, like a child's.

"Yeah."

"...I'm scared."

His confession felt like a cold metal rod was prodding at her heart, and she pressed her hand against the wooden door, wishing there was something she could do for him.

"I know." She whispered.