Rachel St. Sebastian stood off to the side, trying not to draw any attention to herself, in her black suit, black sunglasses, her large black rimmed sunhat. She lifted her coffee cup to her lips and took a long sip as she watched the service go on ahead. The priest read from the bible, the few people who showed up looked sad, yada yada yada, the usual funeral stuff. Rachel had been to so many funerals at this point that nothing really felt different, except...this one was different. This was a funeral for the death of a woman she'd been directly involved with. She'd helped cause this. And the thing was...the guilt was eating her alive inside. Once the service ended and people started to disperse, Rachel walked up to the headstone and let out a long exhale.

"I'm so sorry," she said, "I didn't know it would go this way. If I...if I had, I don't know that I would've let her go into that apartment with you. I know it doesn't mean shit now, but I am sorry, regardless."

The newly etched name into the stone, Kristin J. Whetworth, shone back at her. Rachel St. Sebastian shook her head, then took another long drink of coffee before adjusting her large sunglasses.

"For what it's worth," she added, "...she's going to pay for it eventually. I can promise you that."

Meanwhile, while Rachel headed back to the morgue, Allie was seated in a bistro downtown, a very old, very forgotten bistro. The place she used to go to see Sunny to get her medications. The kind of place one goes to have shady business dealings. She twiddled her thumbs and felt her stomach churning. She didn't want to agree to this meetup, but it had been so many weeks now, she figured she didn't have a choice. She watched as a father and son, the son looking to be in his late teens, entered and approached the counter, and she wondered what that must be like. To have a family who wanted to spend time with you. To not be so completely alone. She heard the chair across from her pull out, scraping its legs against the floor, and turned back, face to face with Claire Driscoll, who just smiled at her.

"Hiya Meers," she said, "it's been a while."

                                                                               ***

"Why are we at the library?" Benny asked, "the library makes me feel weird. Like I'm...I'm late to turn in a book report."

"We are here, because," Molly said, as she knelt in front of the bottom row of a section and started looking, "I need to back up my theory before I can qualify it with confidence. I think I know how Jackson Strange does what he does, but I wanna confirm it first."

Benny leaned against the shelf and put his hands in his coat pockets, then looked down at Molly, who was sifting through each book individually. He smiled to himself and chuckled, shaking his head. After a few minutes, Molly popped back up and held a book in her hands.

"You know," Benny said, "this might come as a surprise, but back when I was first starting out, I would do this exact thing. Come to the library and find books about magic, study everything I could, every different trick and technique. I wanted to just be the absolute best at it. I don't seem the studious type, but here we are."

"You might not seem the studious type, but you're certainly the dedicated type," Molly said, making Benny blush, his eyes widen a bit as she added while flipping through the book, "and that's the thing, that's what's admirable. You're driven, determined, dedicated. That's why I like you."

Benny smiled, approached her and kissed the side of her head, making her smile too as she finally stopped on a page.

"Right here," she said, pointing at it with her finger, "this is it. This is what I meant that night at his show. This is how Jackson Strange does what he does. Harry Houdini."

                                                                            ***

Zoe was standing outside of Tony's office, waiting. She'd met with the agents the previous day, and now, was here to fulfill her duty. As she tapped her foot anxiously, the door to the office opened and Raindrop, along with Tony, came walking out. Raindrop stopped and looked at Zoe, who looked immediately back at the floor, intimidated by her for some reason. Raindrop stopped after putting some papers in her bookbag and turned to face Tony.

"He'll want to see you soon. A meeting is inevitable," she said, "and I suggest you bring some evidence of success that makes him happy. He is a benefactor after all."

"I...I know," Tony said, "I know, yes. And I will. Just tell me when and I'll show up. Until then I have other business to attend to."

With that, Tony grabbed Zoe by the arm and tugged her into his office, shutting the door hard behind them. She stood there, perplexed, as he walked back around to his desk and poured himself a drink, shaking his head, clearly exhausted from his meeting with Raindrop. Zoe, after a moment, turned her focus towards him as he pulled out his desk chair and plopped down within it, putting his feet up on the desktop as she gently sat down across from him on the opposite end of the desk.

"What was that all about?" she asked.

"Never enter into an ongoing business agreement," Tony said, sipping from his glass, "it ain't worth it. No matter what they promise you, kid, it ain't worth it. They'll suck ya dry until you're a husk of your former financial self. Every businessman is a goddamn loan shark. It's much better to try and manage and finance yourself, trust me on that."

"I don't disbelieve you, for what it's worth," Zoe replied, shrugging.

"Anyway, what're you doin' here?" he asked, shaking his glass at her, the ice within tinkling against the sides, "you want a drink?"

"Oh, no thank you sir," she said, "um, I'm here because we're having an issue with the theater. There's some structural integrity of the pillars, specifically around the stage and front row. I don't think it's safe to continue doing shows until it gets looked at, and probably repaired. Thankfully I've outlined the exact issues and even drew up a rough estimate of what it would cost to fix and you'll be happy to learn it won't be much, at least if we start now before it gets worse."

"Everything is fucking money," Tony said in a hushed voice, shaking his head and standing up, looking out the window behind his desk while he continued drinking; he sighed and continued, "...ya know, if I'd known all the trouble opening a second casino would bring me, I wouldn't have done it. I only did it so I could maybe make more so my family could live more comfortably. My kids, they deserve the best, because I didn't have the best growing up and I wanna make up for that to them. But this entire place, it's just been one nightmare after another. Well, at least you're bringing me something I can easily fix. We should take a walk down there and see what-"

The door opened and his secretary popped her head in.

"Sir?" she asked, "you're needed out here, there's an altercation on the main floor."

Tony sighed again, set his glass down on the desk and walked past Zoe.

"We'll go when I get back, it'll only be a few minutes," he said. As soon as he left, Zoe sprung into action. Agent Siskel had given her a small, almost watch battery sized device that she was to place underneath his desk somewhere to record audio in the room, and she wasn't going to squander this chance now. She got on her knees and crawled beneath the desk, pushing his chair aside, pulling the device from her pocket. She looked around for a minute for the right spot, somewhere he would never look, and then pushed it against the wood grain hard, watching it stick. She grinned, satisfied in her efforts, then started to climb back out. However, as she exited this position, she knocked the desk, and his now empty glass fell. Zoe scrambled, reached out, and grabbed it before it hit the floor. She took a long breath then set it back on the desk exactly how it had been, before taking her seat once more. Minutes later, as promised, Tony came back. Together, they went to the theater to investigate its issues, and Zoe couldn't help but silently congratulate herself.

Sleight of hand had always been something she'd been somewhat of an expert at.

                                                                           ***

"You sure you don't want anything?" Claire asked, biting into her sandwich, as Allie shook her head slowly; Claire shrugged and spoke while she chewed, "your loss I suppose. Food's excellent here. So how you been?"

"How have I been?" Allie asked, "How have I been? Seriously? Well let's see, the last time I saw you we were in an empty apartment where I killed a perfectly innocent woman, all because she MIGHT have gone back to her boss. So, that's twice now I've...gotten rid of someone, rather against my will, so I'm not doing exactly great."

"You get used to it," Claire said.

"I don't want to 'get used to it', I don't want something like that to be so normalized in my day to day life that I no longer feel bad about it," Allie said through clenched teeth, leaning a bit across the table, "don't you live with any fear, any guilt?"

"Not particularly," Claire said, shrugging, "but that's because we're aiming for a bigger prize. I'm going into that vault with you."

This took Allie by complete surprise.

"You...you're...excuse me what now?" she asked, "you most certainly are NOT. I'm not strolling illegally into a casino vault with a convicted serial killer. That's, like, triple the law breaking. If anything, I think the space we've granted one another is good. We need people to not think we're associated. Why would you even wanna get in there?"

"Allie," Claire said, wiping her mouth on a napkin and then cupping her hands on the table, "think about the amount of money that's down there. We're sending these people to prison, right? That's the goal here. Why can't we Robin Hood a little? Take care of ourselves. We take a fair portion, we leave town, not necessarily together, and we start new lives. Let's face it, Vegas hasn't been good to either one of us."

"Vegas has actually been great to both of us, the problem is we fucked it up," Allie said, "I'm doing better now than I've maybe ever done."

"Okay, well, look at it from my point of view. I lost everything. I...don't wanna go back to what I was like. What I was doing. I realize this might sound contradictory from my statement earlier, about you getting used to killing people, but what I meant was that the more often something happens, the more normal it becomes to you. I'm not in any way suggesting you keep doing it. I don't even want to do it anymore. I want to take some of that dough and leave town, once and for all. Now look, I've helped you a LOT, I figured the least you could do is give me this send off."

Claire had a point, she had indeed helped a lot. She hated admitting that, but it was true. Allie sighed and leaned back in her chair, running her hands over her face. Claire exhaled and blinked a few times, then looked down at the table.

"I like you, Allie," Claire said, "I wouldn't betray you, of all people. I still think we're two sides of the same coin. I just want us both to come out of this even, you know? After all we've both been through, don't we deserve a chance to be happy?"

"You murdered people and stuffed them in walls," Allie said flatly.

"I know what I did, I don't need a reminder," Claire said sternly, "How come people who are drug addicts, alcoholics, how come they get the benefit of the doubt? You were a painkiller addicted, gin swilling mess and yet people believed in you, that you could change, that you deserved to be better. Why aren't I allowed that same kindness? Just because I did what I did I'm somehow irredeemable? That doesn't seem fair."

Allie looked at Claire, who looked genuinely hurt.

"Nobody wants to give convicted criminals, regardless of the crime, even the slightest hope that they might get better. Sure, I did horrible things, but how is that any different from the horrible things these men are doing? It's all crime, regardless of the format."

Claire, once again, had a point, and Allie hated that. She hated how often Claire made sense of the senseless. Allie sighed and sat back upright.

"Alright," Allie said, "...if you're coming, we need to set some ground rules. And you should probably come talk to someone with me."

"Who you have in mind?" Claire asked, sipping her drink.

"A former magician by the name of Mr. Magic," Allie said.

                                                                             ***

"This..." Molly said, as she and Benny sat at a table in the library and she pointed at something on the page before them, "is the plate glass box. As the book clearly states 'the escape from a box made of sheets of plate glass in interesting is that it was performed by both Houdini and Mrs. Houdini and shows the performer visible from every angle. The box is held together by metal and heavy bolts kept in place through holes in the glass. The cover of the box lies flat and is hinged to one of the long sides. The front of the box has two hinged clasps at the upper edge with the top of the box having two metal staples projecting at the front edge. Once the performer is inside the box, the cover is closed and heavy padlocks are connected through the staples.'."

"So Strange just stole the idea outright and performed it on a more public scale?" Benny asked, "god he's an even bigger hack than I thought."

"It goes on to say 'The secret of the escape lies in the hinges. Each bolt in the back of the box has two portions, the hollow bolt and the bolt-head, provided with a small screw-bolt. When the bolt-head is screwed into the hollow end of the bolt, the result is a solid bolt that exactly resembles the real bolts. From inside the box, the performer can unscrew the bolt-heads with a flat key hidden amongst the 42 bolts, push the bolts out of the holes, lift up the cover with the hasps acting as hinges, and escape. After escape, the heads are easily put back in place either through use of a string from inside the box or unlocking the padlocks to release the front cover, replacing the bolts in the hinges. The cover may then be closed and relocked'. Don't you see? He called himself an illusionist one time, and now I get it. I didn't realize until that night you and I went that he'd lifted it directly from Houdini, and I knew I'd seen it somewhere before."

"How did you even know to recognize this?" Benny asked, sounding impressed.

"When I was little, I had this aunt and we used to watch a lot of documentaries," Molly said, "one night, she fell asleep and I watched this thing about Harry Houdini, and I guess it just stuck in my brain, but I'd forgotten about it until now. But seeing Jackson perform it, it all clicked back into place for me."

"So what do we do? Now that we know how it's done, how do we implement it to our plan, to the...to the architecture of the vault?" Benny asked.

"We don't," Molly said, grinning as she slammed the book shut and looked at a rather confused Benny, "not entirely. The faux wall is ready to go, and is being installed tomorrow. But it isn't going to be the main attraction, or the only way we succeed, because someone's already going to be inside."

"They are?" Benny asked, "someone's gonna be IN the vault, waiting for us?"

"Can't be a magician without an assistant," Molly said.

"What do you think they sell? Just coffee or maybe pastries too?" Monica asked, as she floated in front of the large storefront window beside Chelsea and Juno.

"How are they gonna sell pastries? They can't make pastries. They don't have an oven, they're a cart," Juno replied, sounding annoyed, "they're more than likely just a coffee cart. I'd be surprised if they sold anything else. Maybe cold muffins."

"God I love cold muffins," Chelsea said.

"Who would ever eat a cold muffin?" Juno asked, sounding disgusted, giving her a look.

"It's bread, you eat most bread cold, what goddamn difference what shape or form it comes in?" Monica chimed in, with Chelsea snapping her fingers and pointing at her.

"I could go for some coffee," Chelsea said, "and not just cause the girl serving it has the head of a goat. I mean, that's cool, but I really could go for some coffee. It gets tiring working here. All the stocking and stuff. Exhausting. Kinda need to rejuvinate my energy."

Chelsea stood up and walked around the counter, then stopped and looked at Juno.

"Do you want a cup? I'm buying."

"I don't drink coffee," Juno said, shrugging, "I have enough energy as it is."

"Fair enough," Chelsea said, exiting the shop. Juno and Monica watched from the window as Chelsea nervously approached the cart. Juno was chewing on gum while Monica just floated absentmindedly in the air. After a minute, Juno looked up at Monica, who glanced down at her.

"What?" Monica asked.

"You ever miss things from when you were alive?" Juno asked.

"Depends," Monica said, "stuff like chocolate cake? Absolutely. Things like diarrhea? Absolutely not."

"Gross," Juno said, the both of them giggling. Meanwhile, Chelsea got into line, which only consisted of 4 people ahead of her, and anxiously waited to approach the cart window. As she stood there, checking the money in her hand, she tried to think of an excuse other than wanting coffee to want to come outside and meet this girl. She did have the head of a goat, and that was interesting, but she wondered if there was more...and she knew there was. She just didn't want to admit it. After a minute, she felt a long finger tap on her shoulder and she glanced up to see Polaris standing there.

"Oh, hi," she said, smiling.

"Good afternoon," Polaris replied, "I see you're as intrigued as everyone else by this new establishment."

"Can a singular cart really be called an 'establishment'? Don't you need a building to claim that title?" Chelsea asked, and Polaris snickered, patting her on the back.

"I have to say I'm surprised by the turnout, but I suppose when one lives somewhere for an eternity, anything new opening must be absolutely enthralling. When things are so stagnant for so long in your surroundings, the simplest little change or addition can feel downright exhilirating."

Chelsea nodded in agreement, then turned her focus back to the cart as they moved up one, the person in the front of the line having moved on ahead. Chelsea wanted to think about coffee, but all she could think about was Xorlack.

                                                                             ***

"So what about you? You've never really lived as a person like I or Chelsea have, what would you like to experience most?" Monica asked as she floated down the chip aisle - or what most closely resembled the chip aisle - while Juno swept. Juno stopped and chewed on her lip, thinking about it.

"How do you know I never got to live as a person?" Juno asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Because you don't strike me as someone who existed outside of this place," Monica said, "but please, prove me wrong. I love nothing more than to be put in my place."

"If I could name something," Juno said, stopping sweeping and leaning against one of the freezer doors at the end of the aisle, "I would have to say connections with others. Or...at the very least, the chance to make them."

"You don't think the connections you make here are as real?" Monica asked, "you don't consider Chelsea or I your friend?"

"I wouldn't say that, but I do think you and Chelsea would agree there's an inherent difference between connections as a living person and connections as an ethereal being. Humans are messy, raw, but they're real. A lot of them, more often than not, hide their feelings, sure, but so many others wear their hearts on their sleeves and that's good too. They can connect over the smallest things, a band they both like or something like that. Here...everything is so surface level. We are friends because there's no better alternative in proximity. That isn't to say I don't like you guys, but let's not make it out to be more than it is."

Monica floated as she watched Juno go back to sweeping and felt her heart, if she still had one, drop a bit. What had happened to Juno to make her feel this way? Hell, even Polaris - the coldest, most distant mother fucker around - would agree with them that the connections they shared here in the shop were as real as anything else. Chelsea, however, might currently agree with Juno.

                                                                            ***

"I hate change," Chelsea said as the next person in the front of the line departed.

"Well, I could lend you bills if that's what you're asking," Polaris remarked, making her chuckle.

"You know what I mean," she said as they moved forward, "I don't like it when things are different. I think losing my sister, especially the way I did, made me scared of anything ever being different. That's partially why I never dated too. I didn't like the change it would bring to my single life, and then didn't like the change it would bring if we broke up, so I just flatout avoided the entire situation until I came here and met Xorlack."

"How is that going, by the way?" Polaris asked, pulling a cigar out from his tin and lighting it.

"And the thing is," Chelsea continued, ignoring his inquiry, "...I didn't hate the way it changed my life, actually dating someone, and that surprised me. I guess, because, if you meet the right people, it doesn't change much at all. All you have now is a better support system. But living in one dimension, working and dating in another, it's hard. I don't...I don't know how long I can go on like this for and now THAT change scares me."

"The universe is constantly in flux," Polaris said, taking a long drag from his cigar, "in fact, there's a famous saying that every ten years, all your atoms are replaced, making you an entirely new person, quite literally, but this is, in fact, not accurate. It's every year, not every ten. This is because your body is constantly undergoing cellular turnover, meaning old cells are broken down and new ones are built using nutrients from food, effectively replacing the atoms that make them up. So literally every year, regardless of the decisions one makes in their personal life, they wind up a wholly new individual come the following year simply because of change."

"That's...terrifying," Chelsea said, chuckling nervously.

"The universe often is," Polaris said, tapping the ash from his cigar to the ground, before adding, "and I think that's why I like The Elsewhere, because here, you know what everything is. It might be a monstrous abomination of unknown origin, but you can tell it's exactly that. Nothing is trying to hide itself. Everyone is so transparent, and in the case of folks like Monica, quite literally. But that world...the 'real' world....it was never like that."

Chelsea gave Polaris a confused look, furrowing her brow.

"How do you know?" she asked.

"I've been there more than you could realize," Polaris responded as they moved up in line, becoming the penultimate folks waiting now; Polaris adjusted his tie, puffing smoke into the air as he said, "all I'm saying, Chelsea, is that change is scary, understandably so, but it's also not inherently bad. After all, if you hadn't applied for this job, we wouldn't be having this conversation now, would we? That's a change worth being happy for, isn't it? Being here?"

Chelsea smiled and nodded. It was.

It really, really was.

                                                                             ***

"Hey, come check this out!" Juno shouted, as Monica floated her way over to where Juno was currently stationed. By a wall, behind a single shelf unit, was a darkened doorway that led into a further darkened room. Juno and Monica gripped the shelf and started moving it aside, allowing Juno to slip inside as Monica simply floated right through. Once through, Juno stopped and looked at Monica, shaking her head.

"I always forget you can just go through things," she said.

"It is rather convenient," Monica replied.

Together, the two girls entered further, as Juno's left hand ran along the wall, searching for any kind of light switch. After a few minutes of scanning, she found it, and flipped it on, lighting up the room as they both gasped. The room was a full on arcade, filled to the brim with working cabinets, pinball machines, prize machines, ticket machines and everything. The two girls started to laugh in surprise.

"Why didn't I know this was here?" Juno asked.

"Considering it was covered up, I don't think anyone knew it was here," Monica remarked.

Juno and Monica continued further in as Juno ran her hands along the cold steel and bright plastic of the machines. She stopped at one, a pinball table designed to look exactly like the shop, and stared at it. Monica stopped beside her, floating, a gnawing feeling gathering in the pit of what was once her stomach.

"Are...are we just characters in an arcade machine?" Monica asked, and Juno laughed.

"Okay, The Elsewhere is weird, but no. I think Luna maybe had this built because she was proud of it at one point. Now she doesn't seem so proud of the store, and I wonder why. She's rarely here, she doesn't like Polaris being around, and she barely interacts with her employees. I wonder what changed."

"Peoples attitudes towards things they once loved can switch on a dime," Monica said, shrugging, "maybe the shop once meant something to her but now it means something else. Where once was something special now stands something...I don't know...painful. I'm just guessing here. But still, maybe that's why it's hidden. I think we should uncover it completely, open it up to the customers, I think they would appreciate it."

"Would Luna be okay with that?" Juno asked, and Monica shook her head.

"I don't know, I don't work for her, only you guys can decide that," Monica said, "I'm gonna go into the change machine and get some money though, and we can see if these things still run!"

With that, Monica turned tail and quickly zipped away, leaving Juno to stare at the pinball machine and wonder. Wonder why and how it came to be, and why it was buried now, like some intentionally forgotten relic of shame. She wondered if Luna was growing tired of the place proper, or maybe, as Monica had claimed, it didn't mean what it once meant to her, and this reminder was simply too painful to witness regularly. After all, she did barely come into the shop proper, so perhaps Monica's theory held water. Either way, when Monica returned with a bagful of quarters, they popped them inside and got to playing, and after a bit, the reason didn't matter anymore.

What mattered is they had it now.

                                                                              ***

Chelsea stepped forward, but Polaris politely stepped in front of her, tipping his hat to the goat headed girl behind the cart counter and thinking as he glanced at his options on the little sign within. Chelsea crossed her arms and impatiently tapped her foot, indicating her annoyance.

"Hello, I think today I would like to try your #3 Special, that sounds delightful," Polaris said. The girl got him his coffee, handed it to him and he paid, then paid for Chelsea's as well, to her surprise, before thanking her and turning to face Chelsea once more, lifting the cup to his face and taking what she could only assume was a long sip before exhaling and saying, "Don't be afraid of change, Chelsea. That's what made Luna into who she is today. You're better than that."

With that, he turned and walked off, down the street, and into the void. Chelsea shook her head before smiling and finally going to the front.

"What can I get for you?" the girl asked.

"Well," Chelsea said, leaning in and reading her nametag, "Anais, pretty name by the way, I think I'd also like the #3 Special since my friend seemed pleased with it."

"You got it, one Hot Cup O' Joe comin' up," Anais said. As she prepared, Chelsea leaned on the little counter and watched her.

"Is this your permanent spot or do you intend on moving around? Figure with a cart you can go anywhere, not tied down to a specific location, you know?" Chelsea asked.

"Not that simple," Anais replied, "especially not in The Elsewhere, where every district has its own specific rules for what you can and cannot sell, so. For the time being, this is where I'll stay posted. Wanted to open a proper store, was supposed to get in some recent land developers plan, but he disappeared so now I'm just stuck in this cart. But I kinda like it, ya know? It's cozy."

Anais handed Chelsea her drink and she thanked her, taking a long drink before stopping and looking at the cup. She pulled the lid off and glanced inside, only to witness dozens of tiny, screaming faces peering up at her as they melted into the liquid. Chelsea looked back up at Anais, who just shrugged.

"That's Joe, he's bred specifically for this," she said nonchalantly and Chelsea sighed.

"Of course he is," she said, "why would coffee be normal here. So your plans changed and now you're just in this cart, huh? I work right over there, in the Last Shop on the Left."

"That's cool, I'll come by now and then for snacks," Anais said, "and yeah, I mean, it's unfortunate that my deal fell through but, ya know, sometimes change is for the better. I like it out here. Easier access to customers, fresh air, my own dedicated space. I think, in the end, it worked out for the best."

Chelsea smiled, nodding. Everything in flux, and seemingly for the best, it seemed. After she and Anais spent a bit of time talking, she finally returned to the shop with Anais in tow, where she found Juno and Monica playing in the now fully reopened and functional arcade room, and decided to shirk her duties for the remainder of the day, opting instead to join them. Besides, it had been a slow day anyway, there'd only been one customer early in the morning, so she wasn't worried. Standing in the room, drinking her literal cup of Joe, Chelsea couldn't help but feel like maybe Polaris was right, in some warped way. Everyone here was exactly who they said they were, and unashamed of it, and maybe that was for the better. Odd, Chelsea thought, that she felt more at home amongst what most would consider 'monsters' than the people she was supposed to be a part of the species with.

But maybe her atoms had just rearranged that way.

The one thing you could say about Jackson Strange was that magic...was not exactly the career he'd been aiming for.

Unlike Allie or Benny or Rufus Heck, for whom magic was a passion, for Jackson Strange, magic was a job. A skill he knew he was proficient at and thusly could ride all the way to the bank. When he had been in high school, he'd attended a party and, while there, had done a few simple card tricks to entertain the masses. When their fawning over his easily understandable card tricks simmered down, that's when it hit Jackson...people were dumb, and would believe anything they saw. So he focused on magic, created a persona, and the rest was history. But Jackson didn't want to be a goofy stage magician with a fancy costume like he'd seen growing up, no, he wanted to be a cool magician, one that worked on the street and didn't play by the standard rules. Needless to say, he achieved his goals threefold. Whether that was a good thing or not remained to be seen, seeing as it made him somewhat of a pariah amongst the industry, many of whom worked longer and harder than he had and yet never attained the same level of fame he'd gotten in all their years. But Jackson found an audience, not in the traditionalists, but in the new age and outsider crowd. The gothic scene, especially. He was a big draw at parties, and there was no bigger outsider party than that of The Divine Arts.

The only problem now was...what did one wear to such an event? Molly Hatchet had no idea.

Standing in front of her mirror in her bedroom, wearing a plain black backless dress with a slit up to her hip and her hair pulled up into a messy bun, Molly almost didn't recognize herself. After learning this club was set in a grungy downtown underground club, Molly figured the best she could do was try to fit in. So she looked up gothic makeup tutorials - nothing extreme, just the basics - and made her face paler, did heavy eyeliner and dark red lipstick. She actually didn't dislike the way she looked, which was perhaps the most surprising part of all. Benny entered the room, finishing up tying his tie, when he stopped and looked up at her.

"Alright, we need to move if we're gonna make this thing and...whoa," he said, "damn. Look at you."

Molly turned her head and blushed, looking at him.

"Well, dare I say I think I'm gonna be there with the best lookin' girl, that's for sure," Benny said, "Ya know, I didn't know I had a thing for goth girls until just now."

"Oh, was my one time attempt your awakening? Boy you're easily swayed," Molly replied, the both of them laughing as Benny approached and put his hands on her hips, tugging her towards him, making her gasp.

"It's a shame you're gonna have to reapply your lipstick," he said quietly, before kissing her. Truth was, despite all that was going on...Molly Hatchet had never been happier in her life, all thanks to the relationship between herself, Benny and Olivia. After a little impromptu makeout session, Benny and Molly arrived at the club, showed their tickets and were let in instantly. As they headed down the stairs and into the main foyer, Benny tugged at the chest of his suit.

"I'm not used to wearing such tight clothes," he muttered.

"Try wearing heels when you never do, my god, I'm going to break my neck," Molly said.

"That's the attitude to have while in here, embrace death," Benny said, making her chuckle. After they reached the bar, next door to the theatre where the show proper would be held, they stood and ordered some drinks. While waiting, they scanned the area, and after a moment, Molly pointed at two women off in the distance in black shoulderless dresses, the texture of which looked to mimic spiderweb.

"What about them?" she asked, "look at their knee high boots. I would rather wear those."

"Well we can make that happen," Benny said, "but they have to stay on in bed."

"But you really are discovering new things you like," Molly said, laughing as someone sidled up beside her and ordered a drink. Molly looked towards the man, and realized immediately it was Jackson Strange. Once he got his drink, he lifted it to his lips and then looked at Molly.

"Hey girl," he said, "how are you doing tonight?"

"I've been better," Molly said.

"You here for the show?" he asked.

"Think that's what everyone is here for, yes," Benny said, chiming in.

"Well, hope you enjoy, it's gonna be a doozy," Strange said, downing the rest of his drink, wiping his mouth on his long duster sleeve and then turning to leave. Molly shook her head and scoffed, as Benny took a sip of his own drink.

"I really dislike him," Benny said.

"Get in line," Molly said.

                                                                           ***

Allie and Zoe were sitting in Allie's car, parked outside of a seemingly rundown apartment building. Allie checked the card Rufus had given her one more time and rolled her eyes. Yes. This was, in fact, the right address. She groaned and laid her head back on the headrest, putting a hand over her face as Zoe turned her head to face Allie.

"We can just go," Zoe said, "We don't have to do this."

"Rufus said Salem Shaw knew Raymond Sykes better than anyone," Allie said, "I need as much information on the guy just in preparation for what's to come. Eventually we're going to come face to face, and when that moment comes, I need to know exactly what I'm up against."

"Well, I'm here with you, you're not alone," Zoe said, grabbing and holding Allie's hand, making her smile. The two women nodded, stepped out of the car and, zipping up their respective jackets, headed up to the apartment building. It was so run down there wasn't even any security to get in the front door, they instead just pulled the doors open and headed right inside. Once there, they stood and looked around, wondering where they might find an index of tenants and what apartments they resided in. After a moment, Zoe tapped Allie on the shoulder and pointed at the mailboxes built into the wall, with names and apartment numbers on them. They walked over and found Salem Shaw, Apartment 3B. Together, they then headed up the stairs, seeing as the elevator was out of order - and looked like it had been for years - and eventually landed on the third floor. They then began scouring the door plaques for 3B, until they finally found it. Allie exhaled, reached out and knocked. After a minute, the door opened, a chain keeping it half shut, as a nervous looking half face peered back out at them.

"Hello?" the face asked.

"Hi, I'm...I'm Allie Meers, this is my friend Zoe Fitch, we're magicians. Rufus Heck told me to come speak with you," Allie said, "I hope we're not imposing."

"Rufus sent you?" the face asked, its one visible eyebrow lowering in suspicion, "...why?"

"Can we come in and discuss that?" Zoe asked, as a second voice called out from inside the apartment.

"Open the door, Salem," the female voice said, and the face sighed, then did as it was told. The latch unchained and the door swung fully open, revealing a man who looked to be in his mid thirties with a short beard and scruffy brown hair. He was wearing a short sleeved button down shirt with a pattern on it that resembled arcade carpet and torn jeans. He stepped aside and allowed Allie and Zoe entrance into the apartment. As they walked inside, they then saw the woman from whom the voice seconds ago had come from. She was tall, over 6 feet, with bleach blonde long hair, wearing a pencil skirt and a nice blue blouse with white polka dots. Together, the two seemed utterly mismatched. She smiled at them as they entered her line of sight, and they smiled back politely.

"Hello," she said brightly, walking towards them and extending her hand to shake theirs, "I'm Jane. Rufus sent you guys?"

"Hello Jane, nice to meet you, and yes he did," Allie said, as she and Zoe shook her hand; Allie then turned to look at Salem, who had lit a cigarette and was taking a long drag before adding, "we really need to talk to you."

"I mean, I'm not...I'm not working anymore, I don't know why you'd be interested in speaking to me," Salem said, coughing as he smoked.

"It's about Raymond Sykes," Allie said, and Salem's eyes widened.

"...fuck," he whispered.

                                                                           ***

Sitting in the theatre, Benny kept wiggling in his seat, as Molly looked at him and smirked until he finally noticed her and stopped, staring back at her.

"Enjoying the show?" he asked, and she laughed, nodding; Benny grinned and said, "my seat has like a broken spring or something and it's jabbing me right in the crotch. It's very unpleasant."

Just then the lights came down and the theatre got dark, as some cheers and whistles erupted from the small crowd. Benny and Molly then covered their eyes as they were blasted with blinding white spotlights from the front of the stage, illuminating just the middle of the stage, where the infamous glass box stood. Music was playing, and after a minute, Jackson Strange, in his regalia, stepped out to massive applause. Benny scoffed and looked around.

"It's a goddamn fashion show for him, and look at how they're treating him, like he's the Saint of Magic or some shit," Benny whispered.

"He's insufferable," Molly whispered back, "but I think you're right, the adoration is far more insufferable simply because it lacks any sense."

Jackson walked to the center of the stage and stopped, putting his hand on the glass box and then, looking at the crowd, grinned.

"Welcome...to The Divine Arts!" he shouted, making the crowd erupt.

"And they said Claire ran a cult," Benny whispered, making Molly smirk.

"Tonight I will be giving you an example of the trick I am looking to pull off publicly on a large scale in just a few months time, and that is escaping from this transparent glass box," Jackson said, "the illusion of escape is an ancient one, going back all the way to the start of magic itself. And why does it entice us so? Because, at one time or another, we've all wanted to escape."

"Jesus, someone call the pretentious police," Molly whispered, making Benny chuckle and hold her hand.

"Well, tonight, I intend to prove, before this esteemed crowd, that escape is possible, even when it seemingly isn't," Jackson said, "and when I am done, you too will realize that, even when things look their bleakest, you can also pull off the unimaginable, and do the impossible. I am Jackson Strange, and this is The Glass Box!"

Another cheer erupted, as Molly rolled her eyes. This was going to be a long night.

                                                                           ***

"Yeah, I know what a bastard he is, upfront," Salem said, "I saw it firsthand."

"You worked with him?" Allie asked, and Salem shook his head as he sat on the arm of the couch.

"Nah, didn't get that personal with him outright, definitely didn't enter into some kind of business relationship," Salem said, "no, I dated his daughter. Nicole. Hearing she'd put a hole in her head was...hard. But, truth be told, I wouldn't be shocked if he was the reason she put it there. Man was a deceitful, controlling, manipulative piece of shit."

"How long were you two together?" Zoe asked, as Jane came back, handing everyone coffee mugs before seating herself on the couch, beside Salem, her free hand on his leg as if to comfort him in some sort of way during this moment.

"Not long, 5, 6 months maybe," Salem said, lifting the mug to his lips and drinking before taking another drag on his cigarette, "but the things I saw, the things she told me...Rufus was the only one I ever shared that with, and only because he and I wound up doing a charity event together. He was retired, but they begged him, loved him, so he agreed. It was a one night thing. To get to perform with your hero, how could I turn that down? Some rich kids birthday. So afterwards Rufus and I strike up a conversation, we get to talking, turns out we both the governor, albeit for different reasons. Start swapping stories."

"He's told me what he was involved in," Allie said, "Rufus, I mean. But I'm still not clear on what it is you know."

Salem leaned back against the couch and sighed. He looked into his coffee mug and waited, tapping his nails on it.

"...I watched him," Salem said, "watched him make Nicole do things she wasn't comfortable with. Perform financial alterations she didn't want to perform. Phony up tax documents, the whole thing. Nicole would tell me these things too. I didn't just see it. Sometimes, when we would get together, she would break down from the stress and tell me all about what he was making her do. Controlled every aspect of her life, using her job as a means to cover his tracks with where his campaign funds came from."

"Why did you stop seeing one another?" Allie asked, and Salem scoffed.

"That one, funny enough, wasn't Raymonds doing," Salem said, "uh...that was...ya know, I was mad about it, cause I actually really liked her. Wanted to help her get out from under his tyranny. Turns out she had a more vetted romantic interest in her own stepbrother than me."

This admittance made both Allie and Zoe recoil in disgust. They looked at one another, then back at Salem, who just smirked as he took another long drag and nodded.

"Yeah," he said, "that's pretty much the response I had too. Walked right in on 'em. Nicole obviously knew I wasn't a threat, cause Raymond never came after me, at least not for what I knew, cause he didn't know I knew what I did. From what she had told me. But he did come after me for another reason."

"...which was?" Zoe asked, almost scared at this point.

"We were careful," Salem said, "but apparently carefulness doesn't prohibit you from still fucking up. About a month after it ended, she called me up, told me she was with child. Said she didn't know what to do, was scared to go to her father about it, understandably so. Her terror was entirely justified, as I'd soon find out, because after she did, at my insistance - the one mistake I will never forgive myself for - I learned that not only did he force her to abort it, which she wasn't entirely against, but then started checking up on her regularly. In ways a father never should. About things a father never should. She was entirely under his thumb and I couldn't help her, and knowing she had dated me, he took that ire out on me. Said I'd gotten her pregnant and then left. Said I refused to come back or give her money. These lies he spread, they...they destroyed my career. Nobody would work with me. That's why winding up at that party, with Rufus...that was a blessing. Working for the first time in so long. I missed it so bad."

"Rufus told me that Raymond also told people he was sleeping with his assistant, because of their age gap, and that they ruined his career too. Seems to be his go to excuse to slander people," Allie said, "...so...if Raymond Sykes learns that we're after him?"

"If Raymond Sykes learns you're after him..." Jane started, before she and Salem exchanged a look.

"...run," Salem whispered, finishing her sentence.

Allie's blood ran cold.

                                                                            ***

Sitting in the theatre after the show had ended, while everyone else was piling out, Molly couldn't help but feel like she and Benny were the only ones not as impressed by Jackson's magic show. Sure, he did what he said he would do. He got into the box, he vanished, and reappeared elsewhere in the theatre. But to Molly, the illusion wasn't this feat of grandiosity that it appeared to be to everyone else watching. As she dug through her purse, looking for her car keys, Benny sat in his chair beside her, shaking his head, his chin on his fist, his elbow propped up on the seat rest.

"You know, I've seen some pompous people enter this industry during my time," Benny said, "but this guy might just take the cake."

"He owns the whole goddamn bakery, Benny," Molly replied.

"His entire thing is 10% magic and 90% schtick. He's nothing but a public orator, extolling how great magic is instead of just...ya know...DOING magic," Benny said, "it's disgusting. He's a magic show designed for reality TV. And all that crap about everyone wanting to vanish sometimes, I mean, sure, he's not wrong, but to tie it into this kind of faux positivity you can do anything mentality, that's even worse. He's preying on peoples biggest insecurities. Nothing more disgusting and underhanded than that. So he escaped from a box. He's not fucking Houdini."

And that's when Molly looked up. It had hit her in the middle of her brain like a freight train. How had nobody else seen this? She grinned so wide as she looked at Benny, who looked back at her, confused.

"What?" he asked.

"That's it," she said, "that's how he does it. Houdini."

"...I'm gonna need you to elaborate," Benny added.

"You built the Card Sharks second location, didn't you?" Agent Tropper asked, and Molly shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"I did, yes," she answered meekly.

"What can you tell us about the job?" Agent Siskel asked, "because Allie has told us there's a vault, one that needs to be easily accessible. So can you give us the dimensions of this vault, can you give us any information that-"

"I have blueprints," Molly said, reaching down to the bag beside her and pulling out rolls of paper, placing them on the table, "my boyfriend suggested I bring them. He said a visual aide would be worthwhile. With these you can see exactly what Tony wants me to do, and how it's already being built. The problem is now that I have to keep telling him I have to minor alterations in order to give us enough time to find a way inside of it without him knowing."

"Exactly, because we need access to it," Agent Siskel said, "these should help tremendously, honestly. Your boyfriend made a good suggestion. Why didn't he come here with you today? Is he not good at moral support?"

"He's great at everything," Molly said, "but he had a prior engagement he couldn't reschedule."

                                                                             ***

"I feel like maybe I shouldn't have let her go alone," Benny said, sitting on the couch, drinking from a water bottle as Allie sat on the arm of the couch while Rufus admired the glass box they'd acquired; Benny took a swig and added, "after all, she doesn't do great under pressure, so I really feel like maybe I should've gone with her and-"

"Benny, my guy, you need to calm down," Allie said, "Zoe's doing a solo show for us today, covering for the fact we aren't around, so we can be here while Molly hands over what she knows about the vault to the agents. Right now we need to work with them, because, frankly, they're gonna grant you guys immunity and you need that, alright? So let Molly handle it. She's a big girl, she can take care of herself."

"This thing is a mystery," Rufus finally said, "and you say this is the very same type that Jackson Strange uses?"

"The one and the same," Allie replied, standing up and approaching it.

"What's frustrating to me is I feel as though I've seen this before," Rufus said, "it seems so very familiar, and yet I can't place it. I don't know if its because of its modernity, perhaps it's been changed from its original design or what, but lord does it seem recognizable."

Allie stood and nodded, scratching her nose. Benny finished his water bottle, scrunched the plastic in his hand and tossed it to the floor before sighing and saying.

"Ya know, the only way to actually figure it out might just be to see it," he said, "I mean we've seen a few small crowds around him with it, but to actually witness it, maybe up close? He gives personal shows doesn't he? For, like, very small and elite crowds?"

"I have pull with those crowds," Rufus said, "Despite my blackballing, my name does still carry some merit for the respectable magicians in the area. I could easily get you tickets. I think Benny might be right, I think it really might just require seeing it up close and personal. I just...god, it's like it's on the tip of my tongue, you know? I just can't place it, but I KNOW this device."

"There's one coming up," Benny said, "I get e-mails telling me of all the smaller shows around town. This is seen as more of a 'black magic' show, called The Divine Arts. You think maybe we could get into that?"

"I don't doubt it," Rufus said, scratching his head before looking at Allie and adding, "but I'll tell ya one thing, once we crack this, those men are gonna rue the day they ever crossed the likes of us."

Allie smirked. She really did appreciate his lust for revenge.

                                                                            ***

"But it's entirely concrete," Agent Tropper said, "how would you build access into something that's meant to be so thick? Wouldn't he notice? Wouldn't he, ya know, recognize that something is wrong with this scene?"

"He wouldn't because it will look exactly the same, and he's not going to be one to check for stuff like that, he just wants it done. There's a lawyer there right now, but I don't think she's working for him. He's taking her around, getting insurance policies and statements on things, but personally...I think she's the governors lawyer, and it's his way of keeping an eye on Tony, so he isn't gonna show her that either, something he's probably trying to hide from the governor. And even if she isn't his lawyer, he's not gonna show that to someone who might turn him in for it."

Agent Tropper stopped pacing and looked down at Agent Siskel who just smirked.

"She's a smart girl," Agent Siskel said.

"Please don't talk about me as if I'm a golden retriever," Molly said.

"You remember Claire, right? Claire Driscoll, serial killer?" Agent Siskel continued, "Hid her victims bodies in the walls of the compound she lived at, the abandoned ones anyway. Well, would it help to see how she did that, to maybe give you ideas on how to achieve this? Because, I gotta tell ya, when we went to get her, that place looked normal. If we hadn't been tipped off, we never would've guessed."

"...the bodies....aren't still, like...there, right?" Molly asked, and the agents laughed.

"No, no they've long since been removed and properly laid to rest. But seeing someone else work with walls might give you some ideas," Agent Siskel said, "what do you say, wanna take a little ride?"

"Beats being in this room," Molly said, holding her hand out at Agent Tropper and adding, "I'm gonna need my blueprint back, please."

Together, the three of them exited the building, climbed into a car and headed off towards Claires former compound on the outskirts of the Vegas city line. The drive over, Molly couldn't believe she was here. She didn't want to be here, of course, but...after she spoke with Allie, with Benny, about everything...it just made sense for her to be the one to speak with the agents seeing how closely tied to the project, and thus the crime itself, she was. And then she thought about Claire and shook her head. That day, when Allie came back to Benny's, her hands and shirt covered in specks and spots of blood, Molly knew Claire was the cause. Molly had only seen a few news spots about the compound when Claire had been arrested, she didn't really pay much attention, so to roll up on the place itself was somewhat...unsettling.

What once looked like it belonged to a rather bustling community was now completely abandoned. Buildings where life had once occurred now just empty shells of their former selves, likely in stark relation to the people Claire brought into the cult. Molly, Agent Siskel and Agent Tropper climbed out of the vehicle after it was parked and, bookbag full of blueprints slung around her chest, Molly followed the agents into a nearby building that had been locked up, the doors covered with crime scene tape - albeit weathered now - to likely keep anyone from interfering with the then ongoing investigation. They headed up the stairs and finally reached an apartment, where Agent Siskel dug a key from her pocket and opened the door, allowing Molly to enter first.

"They always say you can tell when someone has died in a space," Agent Siskel said, "how it changes the feeling of the room. This place definitely gives me that vibe."

Molly nodded weakly, then approached a nearby wall and, with her hands, pried it open as though it was nothing. She marveled at the design.

"It's hollow," she said softly, "obviously, because they had to hide people in it, but it's hollow. Made to look proper, but is completely hollow."

Molly grinned to herself. Claire might've been a murderer, but she sure wasn't an idiot.

                                                                              ***

"You know why I'm here," Raindrop said, sitting in front of Tony's desk, polishing her glasses before putting them back on her face, adding, "you know he wants a rundown of your assets. He thinks you had his daughter killed. I don't believe that, personally, and I would go to bat for you if it ever came to that, but as far as the monetary discrepancies go..."

"Look," Tony said, standing upright behind his desk, pouring himself and Raindrop each a glass of Bourbon, "it's a new casino, takes a while to get the place completely up and running, whether that's in code or in funds. That's why I'm kinda glad he called you out here, because now you can tell him, firsthand, from a legal perspective, that it's just taking a while. Casinos are rarely profitable within the first year of opening, regardless of it being a second location."

"I don't think that's true at all but okay," Raindrop said as he handed her the drink; she thanked him and took a sip.

"But," Tony continued, seating himself now, "you're right, I had nothing to do with Nicole's death. Why would I? Her stepbrother was found UNDER my building, for god sakes. Not only do I have no interest in taking out a drug dealer - someone who, realistically, could only help my clientele - but then go to the trouble of hiding him underneath my own building, and then, once he's been found, take out the other child? It just doesn't make sense."

"Do you know anybody who might've had some kind of business with Sunny?" Raindrop asked, finishing her drink and wiping her mouth on her sleeve, "because if you can give us a lead, a name, anything, that would be really helpful."

"The only person I know who ever had any kind of addict problem was my mainstay magician, but she was an alcoholic, not a drug addict, at least not to my knowledge. If she was, she hid it damn well. I know she was on pain medication after her tiger attack, but that came from the hospital, and I know cause I paid the insurance directly."

Raindrop jotted all this down, but showing no real interest. It didn't seem like anything of note to her, really.

"Tony," Raindrop said, "Raymond is mad. I think you two need to schedule a meeting instead of going through third party people, like myself. He thinks you're vying against him. He thinks you want to pull out financially. He thinks you had his daughter killed. You two need to talk, clear the air. Otherwise there'll be something worse than just miscommunication taking place here soon enough."

Tony nodded, finishing his drink in one gulp and slamming the glass down on his desk. He had two businesses, the respect of his fellow casino owners, and the protection of the governor himself. How was he suddenly losing all of this?

"And Tony?" Raindrop said as she stood up and prepared to leave, "...just know, and I'm telling you this because I don't think you're a bad person like he makes you out to be...if he catches wind of anything else, you might want to leave town."

And with that, she exited, leaving Tony to turn in his chair and look out the window behind him. The vault. He needed it kept entirely secret, and he needed it finished asap. The thing was...Tony wasn't innocent of committing a crime. He just wasn't committing the crimes they believed he was.

                                                                           ***

Allie, Benny and Rufus were seated on the couch, all staring at the box, all varying levels of annoyed, and all of them sharing a singular box of cheese crackers.

"I hate this box," Benny finally said, chewing crackers, "it's taunting me. It's living in my apartment and it's taunting me."

"It's probably not too crazy about you either, for what it's worth," Allie replied.

"I got you tickets," Rufus said, looking at his phone, "Two of you will be in attendance next week for The Divine Arts, featuring Jackson Strange. Now you just hav to decide on which two it is. They're open ended, not assigned, so, could be any of you."

The door to the apartment opened and Molly walked in. She dropped her things in front of them and stared at them on the couch.

"Claire," she said, making Allie's hair on the back of her neck stand up; she continued, "Claire kept walls hollowed out so she could put the bodies of her victims inside them on her compound. That's what she was arrested for, remember? The agents took me to see it, firsthand. It was...creepy, I'm not gonna lie, but it was worthwhile cause now I get it. Whatever it ends up being, it has to be hollow, but look the same as everything else, and function like this," she finished, putting a hand on the box, "...as soon as we figure out how it functions, that is."

Molly then sat between Allie and Benny, and rested her head on Benny's shoulder as he reached up and stroked her hair. She shut her eyes and smiled.

"She done good," Benny said, making her laugh, "she done real good. Now we just gotta crack this box. So, Molly, I hope you have an outfit for nice occasions, cause we're goin' to see a magic show tomorrow night."

Allie stood up and walked to the kitchenette, where she pulled open the fridge and got herself a soda. She popped the tab on it and started drinking, as Rufus came over, pulling on his sweater.

"You leavin'?" Allie asked, and Rufus smiled, nodding.

"I am indeed, I do have other things to do today besides figure out how to bankrupt a casino," Rufus said, "...Allie, before I go, I wanted to talk to you about something. Come with me out into the hall."

Allie glanced past him at Benny and Molly snuggling on the couch, and agreed, taking her soda with her. Once out in the hall, they started walking down the hall, towards the stairs, almost as if she were walking him to his car.

"Listen," Rufus said, "what's going on between you and your boss and Raymond is vastly different, in many ways, than what I went through, but I still feel as though it's my duty to tell you to be careful. Vegas is a cleaned up town these days, sure, lot more family friendly and law abiding than it used to be. But that doesn't mean it isn't dangerous. That doesn't mean there aren't seedy mother fuckers out there just itching to do dirty work. Raymond Sykes is one of those kinds of people. Right now you guys have gotten repeatedly extraordinarily lucky, but that luck WILL run out, and when it does, and when Raymond finally sets his sights on you....well, I just hope you're smart enough to know how to handle it."

"I'd like to think I am. I've gotten us this far, essentially by myself," Allie said, as they stopped at the top of the staircase.

"Allie, I'm serious," Rufus said, "you don't know Raymond Sykes like I did. He's ruthless. I just need you to be aware of what it is you're up against. Please, go speak to this man. He's a friend of mine, another magician. He can tell you what Raymond Sykes is really like."

Rufus handed Allie a business card from his shirt pocket and she took it, nodding solemnly. After he headed down the stairs, she looked down at the card and read the name Salem Shaw. She then finished her soda, crunched the can in her hand, and tossed it in a nearby recepticle in the hall before heading back to the apartment. Despite everything, the way Rufus had said that last thing to her stuck in her brain and made her feel anxious for the remainder of the night. And she was right to, as she'd soon learn.

Because Raymond Sykes really was a villain, and nobody knew that better than Salem Shaw.

"Is it just me...or does this store change size regularly?" Chelsea asked as she stood upright from stocking and glancing around the building. Juno did the same, collapsing the cardboard box in her hands as she did. She thought for a moment, then nodded.

"I think you're right," she said in agreement.

"I never really noticed it until now," Chelsea said, "but it does seem to alter in size every day. Sometimes, if we don't have as much stock, certain aisles are shrunk. Sometimes they're gone entirely. It's just not something I ever really picked up on until just now."

"Maybe you have a problem focusing," Juno said.

"I'm sorry what were you saying?" Chelsea replied, grinning, the both of them laughing. The bell over the door rang, and neither even went to see who it was. They knew. It was Polaris. It was always Polaris, in on his usual once a day stop and shop visit. As he came round the corner of the aisle, dressed in a dapper black and blue pinstriped suit with a bowler hat on his head, he stopped and looked at the girls who also stopped and looked at him.

"If you're having to restock this often," he said calmly, "then Luna needs to hire more help. Clearly you're understaffed. That isn't running a tight ship. That's barely running a ship at all."

"Nobody asked you," Chelsea said.

"And yet here I am, giving my opinion on the subject. Funny how that works, isn't it?" he remarked.

"We sell antifungal cream?" Chelsea asked.

"That's weird, cause there's entire beings here made of fungus," Juno chimed in.

"Well, someone wants to keep them away apparently," Polaris replied. Together, the girls gathered up the now empty boxes and walked them to the front of the shop, where Juno then took them all under her arm - they were all relatively small - and carried them to the dumpster out back as Chelsea took her place behind the counter once again. Polaris leaned against the counter, pulled his lighter from his shirt pocket and lit a cigar, puffing on it.

"So," Chelsea said, leaning on the counter and opening a bag of chips, "what non business do you have here today?"

"Actually, my cynical friend, I do have business here today. I am meeting Luna," Polaris said, which surprised Chelsea. She raised an eyebrow as she shoveled some chips into her palm and then into her mouth, speaking while chewing.

"Why is she meeting with you?" she asked.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, it's disgusting," Polaris said, "one of the few reasons I'm happy not to have one. We're meeting because, as you know, she doesn't want me here and yet I am here constantly. We're going to discuss that, amongst other things."

In all the time Chelsea had known both Polaris and Luna, she'd never once gotten the impression that they'd ever meet and talk. Then again, she really had no concept of their history together. Come to think of it...she didn't really know much about the store or The Elsewhere for that matter at all. The bell over the door rang, and in floated an enormous eyeball that constantly blinked. It approached the counter and stopped, looking down at Chelsea.

"Can you help me?" they asked.

"Depends," Chelsea said.

Just as this happened, Luna entered the store and, walking briskly past everyone, snapped her fingers at Polaris, who turned and followed her on her heel into her office. Juno finally came back in, picking at her fingernails.

"You know," she said, "it wouldn't hurt someone to clean the dumpster now and then, because-"

She stopped and looked up, seeing the giant eye and sighing.

"Now what?" she asked.

                                                                               ***

"I really don't like that we have to speak," Luna said.

"Well, we could just sit here in awkward silence if you prefer that," Polaris said, seated in the chair in front of the desk, his long legs up on its solid wooden frame. Luna sighed and seated herself behind the desk, then shook her head.

"I know we have to speak, I just wish we didn't," she replied, "but seeing as you are part co-owner, I suppose it would behoove me to include you. Right now I'm dealing with something that requires...your input. Much as I hate to admit that. There's a landowner looking to develop the block. He's not a very up and up individual, not that many are in The Elsewhere, but even by our standards he's sleazy. He's pressuring me and other shop owners, and frankly, it's gotten to the point where it feels threatening. They all asked me to turn to you."

"Awww," Polaris said, still puffing on his cigar from before, adding, "So what do I need to do then?"

Luna bit her lip and exhaled, then opened a drawer on her desk, pulled out some papers and slid them across to him. Polaris sat upright and leafed through them with his slender fingers, chuckling as he did.

"I don't like doing this," Luna whispered.

"Well, good thing you won't be then, isn't it?" Polaris remarked, "after all, I'm part owner, so this is my responsibility."

                                                                                 ***

"Okay, do you have a certain brand you like?" Chelsea asked, as she, the eyeball and Juno all stood - or floated - in a nearby health care aisle. The eye blinked a few times, then shut its lid and shook itself in a 'no' manner. Chelsea nodded, then started looking through the available options.

"Well," she continued, "we have Retinox, which seems to be the favorite to be honest. It's the most expensive, but from what everyone who buys it tells me, they wouldn't entrust their eyes to any of the others."

"Retinox will be fine," the eyeball said.

"Now the question remains how we're going to do this," Chelsea said, "Juno, you can climb on my shoulders and administer them from above him, if you're not too scared of heights."

"Not really the height that's making me uncomfortable in this particular situation," Juno said, as Chelsea grabbed a box of Retinox and, with the others, headed back to the counter; as they walked, she looked up at the eyeball and spoke.

"So, how long have you been having irritation problems?" she asked.

"My whole life," the eyeball replied, "I get itchy and watery a lot. Sometimes I think that if I had a full body, all my problems wouldn't congregate in one particular place, but being just a singular eyeball, I think that's why I have these issues, because there's just nothing else on me to affect."

They reached the counter and Chelsea sat atop it, unboxing the Retinox and undoing the cap to make it easier for Juno to apply. As she did this, Polaris walked back through the store, but didn't seem to give them any attention whatsoever, which seemed strange to Chelsea. He usually stopped and chatted, or perhaps made a little quippy remark, but this time he was just out the door lickety split, no time to waste. She shrugged and handed the Retinox to Juno.

"Alright," Chelsea said, "now climb up here and get on my shoulders. Sir, can you float lower, maybe?"

"I can," the eyeball said, dipping down below them a bit as Juno pulled herself up onto the counter and then, clutching the Retinox in her hand, began to carefully get on Chelsea's shoulders, exhaling nervously.

"The things we do for paychecks," she muttered.

                                                                            ***

Morgus Yantil was exactly as Luna had described him.

He was shady, he was sleazy, but he was charming and charismatic and those traits seemed to cover up the less appealing ones and made him interesting to folks. So he wound up in the real estate business because he knew that The Elsewhere had a lot of open market worth developing, and he wouldn't even have to actually develop a sizeable portion of it and nobody would notice. But he hadn't counted on Luna, and the neighborhood her shop resided in, which was a pretty tight knit group. Sitting behind his desk, tapping his pen against some forms, he needed to figure out a way to get her to sell the land her shop resided on, but in a non threatening way. Not that there was really any legal ramifications in The Elsewhere to worry about, but moreso his reputation was at stake if he went down that path and others might not sell to him. Suddenly his office door opened and Polaris stepped through, causing Morgus to look up in confusion.

"Do we have a meeting?" Morgus asked, leaning back in his chair, still tapping his pen.

"I doubt it," Polaris said, "because those who schedule meetings with me often are aware of them. No, my name is Polaris, and I'm the co-owner of The Last Shop on the Left, with my business partner Luna. She and I had a...discussion, earlier, about you wanting her to sell the property?"

"Did she finally send someone over to do that, because that would be fantastic, I need to get permits going and-"

"Oh, no no," Polaris said, laughing as he sat down on the desk and loomed over Morgus with his tall, spindly frame, "no, actually, quite the opposite. I'm here to tell you to back. off. Leave her and the shop alone. See, she didn't want to bring me in on this, but the others on the block insisted she do so, and here I am. So just allow me to give you this warning once and once only...end your plans for the block development. Please."

"Wow, who knew being threatening followed by the word 'please' would be so convincing," Morgus said, smirking, "actually, I appreciate you coming down here, but I'm in no way interested in doing that. See, that block is prime real estate, and right now it's housing mostly trinket shops, small food marts, drink carts and, of course, your store. None of which, aside from yours, really, are worth saving. Now the shop you two have built is certainly worthwhile, and hell, lemme buy in and we can even relocate it and nothing will change except location. But as far as it stands, I'm going to continue with my plans, thank you."

Polaris stood back up and sighed, putting out his cigar, finally, on the desk.

"I'm sorry to hear that, because now I have to do this," he said, reaching up and unbuttoning the shirt under his suit coat, then pulling it slowly open. A blinding white light appeared, filling the room, and Morgus started to scream as his skin began to blister and bubble. Polaris walked closer, still letting this occur, as he spoke again, saying, "I gave you a very reasonable chance to pull out, do not forget my leniency now that you're suffering the consequences of your own decisions."

Morgus thrashed in his chair, looking half cooked now. After another minute or two, Polaris buttoned his shirt back up, straightened his tie, fixed the collar on his coat and then leaned across the desk to the now slumping, panting Morgus, who was having trouble keeping his eyes in their sockets. Polaris put his palms firmly on the desk and stared him right in the face.

"Let it be known that conceding isn't failure, sometimes it's simply a way to continue living," he whispered, before his head split down the middle and all the flesh on Morgus's body was sucked inside. After he finished, a now nearly skinless corpse laying in the chair behind the desk, Polaris stood back upright, turned, and exited the office. He told Luna he would take care of it, and she knew what that meant.

But he was starting to understand her hesitancy a bit.

                                                                                ***

"It's a miracle," the eyeball said happily, floating up and down like an excited dog wagging its tail, "I can see! It's clearer than it ever was! This stuff is amazing, oh thank you so much for your help! How much do I owe you?"

"You know what, since it's a medical issue," Chelsea said, trying not to laugh at how cute they were being, "how about the first few are just on the house, okay? Because nobody deserves to live in pain and nobody should have to pay to not be."

"That is so kind of you!" the eyeball said, taking its little bag with a few boxes of Retinox and turning to leave, "Thank you so much!" and as they started to float away towards the door, they stopped, turned back and said, "You two are maybe the single best employees I've ever deal with. Your genuine interest in helping me has not gone unnoticed, and I hope you keep in mind just how good of folks you are. Thank you again."

And with that, they were out the door. Chelsea was touched. She was almost crying. This job was usually just so much selling snacks, cigarettes, lottery tickets, or other generic items one might find at a shop like this, that when she actually got the opportunity to help someone, to truly help someone, she felt like she was doing the world a service. Juno sat on the counter beside her now, tugging at her braid.

"You know," Juno said sullenly, "nobody has ever really thanked me for my help. I guess maybe I've never done anything to really warrant being thanked, to be fair. But...but if today has taught me anything, it's that it feels good to help others, especially those in dire need."

"I appreciate your help, I couldn't have done this without you," Chelsea said, patting Juno on the shoulder, before hopping down and getting back to work, doing restocking, reordering and the like. Juno remained on the counter, swinging her legs as she chewed on her braid and thought. She thought about how she'd never felt like she fit in anywhere, how she'd never really been appreciated, and how suddenly all that was beginning to change. This place, this shop, it was becoming a home of sorts to her, and she was both scared and excited about that prospect.

That evening, Chelsea stayed overnight in the shop in the backroom with her sister. She'd turned it into a mini studio apartment of sorts, and now had books to read, her laptop with which to watch things on, and, of course, her sister to keep her company throughout the night. Besides, the shop had plenty of food and drink, so she didn't even have to go out to find stuff. Chelsea had even brought a small futon mattress and laid it on the floor so that she and Maddy had a comfortable spot to sleep in. And that's just what they did. Her little sister cuddled up to her, her arms wrapped around her, Chelsea never felt more at home than she did here at the shop. Maybe she'd entertain the idea, one day, of living in The Elsewhere forever.

Meanwhile, a few blocks away at a food stand, Polaris and Luna were standing in line, waiting to order. Luna dug her hands into her coat pockets, but Polaris simply shook his head at her.

"There'll be no need for that, your money is no good here, I'm paying," he said.

"I wasn't offering, I'm just cold," Luna said, the both of them laughing, "but thank you. So...how did it go?"

"It went about as well as could be expected when dealing with men of a certain nature, if one could call them men," Polaris said, "but rest assured, he won't be bothering you or anyone else on the block anymore."

"Did you...do that to him?"

"I did."

A long pause, and Luna shook her head.

"I know we've known one another a long time, and I know we're in business together, but I have to ask...what the hell are you?" she whispered, and Polaris adjusted his hat and stood up straight, not looking at her but instead staring straight ahead at the line before them.

"I am nonexistence. The void. That liminal space you fear so greatly between life and death. I am obliteration, the end of everything and the beginning of nothing, but what I am most of all, my dear Luna," he said, finally looking down at her, "...is hungry. I am hungry."

Luna chuckled, because he had a way with words, and then she shivered. But that wasn't from the cold.