The Crown of Ashes and Blood

Part IV Missing

After leaving the closed bar, Hudson and I stood on the sidewalk, staring at the flyer in my hand.

“We’ve checked his usual spots, his classes, the bar, his favorite coffee shop,” Hudson said with frustration in her voice. “I’m starting to think he’s not just avoiding us. He’s gone.”

“Gone?” I asked, looking at Hudson.

Hudson sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe he left the city. It’s not like him.”

“If Mack’s truly gone off the deep end, we need to find him before he does something impulsive.” I said folding my arms.

Hudson paused. “We could check the places he mentioned in the past, like the hiking trail up north, that old bookstore, or… maybe he’s gone to the retreat center in the woods.”

We had checked out all those places, and could not find him. It had been more than forty-eight hours, so we put out a missing’s person report. The news came and interviewed us the next day. Hudson was crying to the reporter pleading Mack to come home and that she was sorry. Rise asked for him to come home and that we all missed him. The cameras turned to me, and I thought about that woman in her bathrobe sobbing about her husband’s disappearance, and I burst into tears unable to speak. When the cameras turned off, the reporter thanked us for our interview and gave their number for us to keep in touch if anything changed.

The next day, I watched our missing persons report. It was all over the news. Our city’s local station, and even some regional channels had picked it up, but something about the way they presented it caught my attention. As the cameras rolled, they spoke not just about Mack, but about a growing trend.

“Here in our city, as many as five people have gone missing over the past few weeks, leaving families and friends devastated and searching for answers,” the reporter said. “While the cause of these disappearances is still unknown, investigators are urging citizens to report any suspicious activity they’ve observed in their neighborhoods.”

I flipped through the channels in a daze, and there it was again, a breaking news report from another city, thousands of miles away. The anchor read aloud: “Authorities are investigating the mysterious disappearance of a college student named Amelia in Crescent City. Sources report that she vanished without a trace. Local authorities are working with investigators from surrounding areas, as similar disappearances have been reported across the state.”

The words echoed in my mind: similar disappearances.

The story continued, showing pictures of the missing woman, her bright smile captured in a graduation photo.

A few minutes later, I found another report online, this time from a neighboring city. A family of four had vanished without a trace, last seen camping near a lake on the outskirts of town. The local news station detailed how authorities were starting to notice patterns, unexplained disappearances over the past month, with no obvious connection between the victims, yet eerily similar circumstances. People were vanishing without warning, leaving their loved ones with nothing but questions.

Hudson’s call broke through my thoughts. “Did you see the reports from other places? What the hell is going on?”

“I saw them. It’s not just here. It’s happening everywhere, other cities, other states. What if... what if this isn’t random?” I replied, staring at the screen, my mind trying to make sense of it all.

“But what does it mean? Why would people just disappear like this?” Hudson’s voice was tense.

I had no answers. Mack was just another name on a growing list of missing persons. There had to be an explanation. Our group had fallen apart. Hudson had stopped working on the nano project, sinking into a depression and blaming herself for Mack’s disappearance. Since she had isolated herself, Rise had lost his project partner and struggled to finish it on his own. He threw himself into his work, staying up all night and falling asleep in the lab. Honestly, I think he was living in The Reck at that point. As for me, I kept working, but developed minor insomnia. All the missing people had disappeared in the night, so I tried to stay awake until dawn, getting only a few hours of sleep before heading to work.

I tried calling Hudson, but she wouldn’t answer. I ended up calling her mom for updates.

“I’m thinking of calling a therapist,” her mom said. “She hardly eats, and sleeps during the day.” At least she wasn’t sleeping at night, I told myself.

“I think that’s a good idea. Rise needs her on campus, he’s burning himself out.” I felt guilty for saying it, as though Hudson wasn’t carrying enough guilt already.

“Okay. I’ll talk to you later,” her mom said, and the line went dead.

The news reports kept coming, and I became obsessed with watching them. I couldn’t look away. I felt a cold, gnawing anxiety in my chest, as though I was staring at something I didn’t want to see, but something I couldn’t stop watching.

Eventually, I took stress leave from work. I couldn’t focus, couldn’t concentrate. So, I sat in front of the holo, hours blending into one another, my mind consumed by the images flashing on the screen. I kept waiting for something to change, for some piece of information to break through, to make sense of it all, but there was nothing. Just more disappearances. More questions. More fear.

I didn’t even notice how dry my eyes had become until they started to sting. I couldn’t bring myself to look away. I couldn’t stop. What if there was something important in the next report? What if it connected everything—everything we’d been trying to understand?

By the time it hit 11 p.m., my body felt like it was shutting down. My eyes were gritty, and my mind felt thick, like walking through molasses. But still, I couldn’t stop. The fear that something would happen while I wasn’t paying attention kept me awake. I couldn’t risk missing anything, even though I knew I was only getting more exhausted.

Eventually, exhaustion won. I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer, and I collapsed on the floor beneath the dull glow of the holo, my limbs heavy and uncooperative. I closed my eyes, for a moment, just desperate for sleep, and the comforting darkness took over.

When I woke up, I wasn’t in my apartment.

Next- Part V Disorientation