Avery paced anxiously in front of the The Wormhole Coffee Shop taking many deep breaths; an unsuccessful attempt to calm her nerves. Exactly how the entire race of mankind had been able to survive this exact moment was a mystery to Avery. In fact it took every ounce of her considerable willpower not to collapse right there on the sidewalk. 

  Absently running her index finger across her right wrist, Avery peeked at the silver numbers tattooed there; 20m 06s then 20m 05s. It was as irritating as it was reassuring. Impulsively reaching for the door handle; not allowing herself anymore time to dwell on what was about to happen, she entered the shop. 

  Thankfully the place was rather deserted. 1980's movie posters plastered the walls-The Princess Bride, Top Gun, Ghostbusters, Goonies, Uncle Buck, The Blues Brothers, Romancing the Stone. Lunch boxes and all sorts of Star Wars paraphernalia; it was a collectors wet dream. The pièce de résistance was a silver DeLorean displayed on a track at the back of the shop. 

  Not wanting to appear rude, Avery decided to order a large black coffee and blueberry muffin; although she felt too nauseated to eat anything. At 10m 03s she sat at a bank of tables furthest from the door,nervously pulverizing the muffin she hadn't really wanted. 

  Fate was a funny thing; if Avery went by her Mother's definition of the word, fate chose what you were going to wear that day, who you fortuitously bumped into, whether you went left or you went right, fate dictated every choice. 

  Avery on the other hand did not subscribe to this form of thinking. Out of spite or pure stubbornness she challenged fate everyday; she did the opposite of what was expected of her, always.....except for today. 

  5m 08s and Avery's tattoo began to change from silver to crimson, her arm felt raw and burned as if it was on fire. She thought she might pass out from the excruciating pain. The tempo of her heart picked up, rapidly racing, ready to burst from her chest. A thick red drop landed on the table and then another one, instinctively she held her hand to her nose trying to stop the bleeding. Panicking, Avery's eyes swiveled around the shop; her dilemma was going unnoticed by the few patrons and Barista. 

  Her mother told her that she should be excited, everything in her life had led up to this moment. While her mother had readily admitted that there might be minimal pain and discomfort involved,she glossed over one important fact: You might die of a broken heart.

Kingdom of the Undying

  What had been utterly real and solid was no longer tangible; reality was not what it seemed to be, nor was it otherwise. The terror and abject horror would not subside; a harsh realization that nightmares were substantial. There was no doubt that monsters were all too real and heroes did not exist.