VOL. 1: CHAPTER 3: HOUSE RULES
The basement light flickered again.
Once.
Twice.
Then it steadied, as if trying to be brave.
Above them, the dragging sound crossed the living room floor like someone pulling a heavy bag. Slow. Patient. Almost… polite. Like the thing upstairs knew it had time. Like it was confident the house was just another container, and containers were made to be opened.
Auntie didn't panic.
She got still.
That kind of stillness belonged to folks who'd lived long enough to know fear was loud and survival was quiet.
She lifted her knife higher, blade catching the basement light in a clean, white stripe. Not trembling. Not shaky. Just ready.
"Everybody hush," she whispered.
Blitz didn't need to be told twice. She held the bat with both hands now, knuckles pale, chin tucked. Her eyes were locked on the ceiling as if she could stare straight through wood and nail and drywall and burn the intruder out with pure refusal.
Ultimo's shoulders rose and fell too fast. He tried to control it, but the air around him felt dense, like the room had decided to wear a weighted vest. The pressure pulsed around his body in small waves, making the loose dust on the floor tremble.
Sionu's fingertips sparked, faint but undeniable. Blue-white static crawled across his skin like restless ants made of lightning.
He hated it.
He hated that the power reacted to fear, that his body was becoming a snitch. Like here I am, flashing a neon sign in the dark.
A voice drifted down through the ceiling.
Soft. Sweet.
"Staaaarboooorne…"
It sounded like Ms. Ronna's voice at first, but only at the edges, like a costume draped over something that didn't fit it.
Auntie's eyes narrowed.
She whispered, barely audible, "In the name of Allah…"
Blitz's head snapped toward her for half a second, surprised, and then her face softened in a way that made Sionu's chest tighten. Blitz didn't always talk religion, but she understood what it meant when someone reached for God before reaching for a weapon.
Then the basement door handle above them clicked.
Slow.
Careful.
Testing.
Auntie's free hand moved to the bottom of the stairs, where a thick wooden wedge sat against the door frame. She'd prepared for this. Maybe not this, but something.
She pressed her palm against the door from underneath, feeling the vibration.
The handle clicked again.
Then stopped.
Silence.
A long silence, like a held breath.
Sionu's nerves screamed now, but nothing happened.
Then Auntie's voice cut through, calm and low: "Blitz. You got your phone?"
Blitz blinked like she'd forgotten phones existed. "Yeah."
Auntie nodded toward her pocket. "Flashlight. No sound."
Blitz pulled it out and turned on the light, screen dimmed. She angled it at the basement wall, not the stairs, so the glow didn't leak up through the cracks.
Auntie whispered, "Ultimo. You strong?"
Ultimo swallowed. "I don't feel strong. I feel… heavy."
"That's still strong," Auntie said, like it was math. "Sionu."
Sionu looked at her, jaw tight. "Yeah?"
Auntie's gaze went to his hands. "If you can make that light jump, you listen to me. You don't throw it wild. You aim it like you aiming a prayer."
Sionu's throat tightened.
Auntie continued, "Cause whatever that is upstairs, it's not just hungry. It's smart-hungry. And smart-hungry things learn from your mistakes."
Blitz whispered, "So what's the plan?"
Auntie smiled without humor. "House rules."
She pointed upward with her knife tip.
"Rule one," she murmured. "You don't open doors for spirits."
The basement door handle turned again.
This time, harder.
The door itself didn't budge because of the wedge, but the pressure traveled down the stairwell like a cold hand.
Auntie's eyes sharpened. "Rule two. If it can't come in, it will try to make you come out."
Sionu felt his electricity surge.
He gritted his teeth.
Then, from above, the voice changed.
Not monstrous.
Not demon-deep.
Just… convincing.
It became Blitz's voice.
Perfectly.
"Sionu?"
Sionu's heart stuttered.
Blitz's face twisted in disgust. "Oh nah."
The voice continued, soft with worry. "Sionu, baby… it's me. Open the door."
Sionu's mouth went dry.
It was the same tone Blitz used when she was trying not to scare him. The same gentle firmness. The same rhythm.
It wasn't just mimicry.
It was memory.
"How it know your voice?" Ultimo whispered, horrified.
Blitz's eyes flashed. "Cause it's been listening."
Auntie nodded once. "Rule three. It will wear your love like a mask."
The voice upstairs shifted again.
Now it was a man's voice.
Sionu's voice.
"Sionu, come on. You tripping. Open the door."
Sionu flinched. His own voice coming from outside his body made his skin crawl like it wanted to leave him.
Then the voice laughed, low and satisfied.
"See? I got options."
The wedge at the basement door vibrated as if something had put its weight on it.
Auntie lifted her chin, eyes fierce.
"Rule four," she whispered. "When it gets bored, it gets violent."
As if on cue, the door above them slammed.
Once. Twice.
Hard enough that dust shook free from the ceiling.
Blitz tightened her grip on the bat.
Ultimo leaned forward, bracing as the pressure around him increased, like gravity was rising in the room.
Sionu's fingers sparked violently now, snapping little arcs into the air.
He tried to control his breathing.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
But fear didn't leave.
Fear just learned to stand quietly in the corner.
Auntie looked at Sionu and mouthed: Aim.
The basement door slammed again, louder.
The wedge groaned.
Auntie cursed under her breath.
Then the slamming stopped.
Silence returned, thick as syrup.
Auntie's eyes narrowed.
She whispered, "It's thinking."
Blitz whispered back, "I hate that."
Ultimo's voice shook. "What if it breaks through?"
Auntie's smile was grim. "Then we teach it this house don't serve free plates."
She moved toward the bottom of the stairs, careful, blade ready. Blitz followed on the opposite side, bat lifted. Ultimo stayed back with Sionu, but the air around Ultimo rippled again, dust lifting slightly off the floor, like the room itself was reacting to his panic.
Sionu leaned closer to Ultimo. "You okay?"
Ultimo swallowed hard. "Bro… I think something wrong with me."
Sionu's jaw clenched. "Something wrong with all of us."
Ultimo shook his head, eyes wet. "Nah. Like… I feel like I'm bending the air."
Sionu opened his mouth to respond.
But then, from upstairs, they heard something else.
A crash.
Glass.
Auntie froze.
Blitz whispered, "That's the kitchen."
Auntie's face tightened like she'd just realized the intruder wasn't trying to enter.
It was already moving through her home.
Then they heard a drawer open.
And utensils clattering.
Auntie hissed, "It's looking for something."
Blitz's voice was low. "A weapon."
Auntie shook her head, listening.
"No," she whispered. "Something it recognizes."
The basement went quiet as a grave.
Then the loudspeaker outside, distant but clear, rolled through the neighborhood like a cold sermon:
"…QUARANTINE ZONE ENFORCEMENT…"
"…ANY STARBORNE ACTIVITY WILL BE NEUTRALIZED…"
Sionu's stomach turned.
Neutralized.
Like he was a spill to be wiped up.
Ultimo whispered, "We trapped."
Blitz whispered back, "Not trapped. Cornered."
Auntie corrected them both, voice soft but sharp. "No. We hidden. There's a difference."
Then, above them, the voice returned, now calm, patient, and terrifyingly pleased.
"I found it," it said.
Auntie's eyes narrowed. "Found what?"
The voice didn't answer directly.
Instead, it began to hum.
A tune.
Old.
Something that sounded like a lullaby from another century, passed down through tired mothers and dimly lit apartments.
Blitz's face went pale.
She whispered, "That song…"
Sionu's heart tightened. "You know it?"
Blitz nodded slowly, eyes haunted. "My grandma used to sing it when I was little."
Ultimo's voice shook. "How the hell it know that?"
Auntie whispered, "It ain't guessing. It's reading."
Sionu's fingertips sparked again, hotter.
The humming stopped.
The voice said gently, "Come upstairs, Blitz."
Blitz froze, like the words had hooks in them.
Sionu felt his stomach drop.
Because Blitz took one step forward without thinking.
"Sionu," Ultimo hissed, grabbing her arm.
Blitz blinked like she'd just woken up. "What…?"
Auntie's eyes flashed. "Rule five."
She stabbed the air with her knife like punctuation.
"It don't just hunt bodies," Auntie said. "It hunts the strings that pull your body."
Blitz's face hardened in anger, embarrassed that she'd moved.
She squared her shoulders.
"Aight," she muttered. "It wanna play mind games? Cool."
She looked at Sionu. "Can you shock the door if it comes down here?"
Sionu swallowed. "I can try."
"Try harder," Blitz said, not cruel, just urgent.
Ultimo exhaled, shaking. "I hate this."
Auntie nodded. "Good. Hate is fuel."
Sionu felt that in his bones, because when Auntie said "fuel," the electricity inside him responded like it understood the assignment.
1) THE CITY ABOVE THEM
Upstairs, Kaloi's City was becoming a rumor factory.
People whispered through cracked windows and peepholes. They watched the military set barricades at the end of streets. They watched drones hover like mechanical mosquitoes, recording every face and every flare of light.
Sirens didn't stop. They just changed rhythm.
And somewhere, a man's voice on a radio station broke through the static, speaking fast:
"They shutting down the bridges. They shutting down the exits. They calling it containment, but we know what that mean. That mean they gon' leave us here with whatever this is…"
The signal cut.
Then a government broadcast replaced it, smooth and clinical.
"Citizens are advised to remain calm. All reports of anomalous activity are being addressed. This is a controlled situation."
Controlled.
In Kaloi's City, that word always meant somebody else had their boot on your neck and was calling it a hug.
Sionu's mind couldn't stop imagining Blitz's neighborhood, his building, the streets he'd biked through daily now sealed like a tomb.
And worse: the billboard message.
REPORT ALL STARBORNE ACTIVITY.
Meaning they didn't just expect Starborne.
They had been waiting for them.
Which meant this wasn't an accident.
Not fully.
The thought hit him like nausea.
He'd always suspected the world was rigged.
Now it felt like he'd found the wiring.
2) AUNTIE'S TRAP
Auntie moved with purpose.
She walked to the corner of the basement, to a shelf with supplies: canned food, water, batteries, and underneath it all, an old tool box.
She popped it open and pulled out a coil of thick rope, a roll of duct tape, and a metal pry bar.
Blitz stared. "Auntie, you been ready."
Auntie didn't look ashamed. "Black women stay ready. We don't get the luxury of surprised."
She handed Blitz the pry bar. "If it comes down the stairs, you swing low. Knees first."
Blitz nodded, face lethal.
Auntie turned to Ultimo. "You said you feel heavy."
Ultimo swallowed. "Yeah."
Auntie gestured at the stairs. "If it steps on that first stair, I want you to make it feel like it stepped on the whole earth."
Ultimo blinked. "I don't know how."
Auntie's eyes were hard. "Yes you do. You just scared of it."
Ultimo's jaw clenched.
Auntie turned to Sionu. "And you, lightning boy. You don't shoot at the body first."
Sionu frowned. "Then what?"
Auntie pointed at the air in front of the stairs. "Shoot the space. If it's moving like a spirit, trap it in a cage of light."
Sionu stared at her like she was speaking another language.
Auntie shrugged. "SOL ain't just in people. It's in the room. It's in breath. It's in the invisible."
Sionu's electricity buzzed harder.
Blitz muttered, "So basically… he gotta make a lightning fence."
Auntie nodded. "Exactly."
Ultimo exhaled. "We really living in a superhero nightmare."
Blitz shot him a look. "Don't call it superhero. That's how you get sloppy. This is survival."
Sionu swallowed.
From above them, a slow creaking started.
Footsteps.
Light.
Careful.
Descending.
The basement door handle clicked again.
Auntie raised her knife.
Blitz lifted the pry bar.
Ultimo's shoulders tensed, and the air grew heavier again, like gravity leaned its elbow on the room.
Sionu's hands sparked, bright enough to glow in the dark.
The handle turned.
The basement door didn't open. The wedge held.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then the voice upstairs sighed.
A long, annoyed sigh.
"Y'all really wanna fight?" it asked.
Blitz snapped, "We really do."
A pause.
Then the voice laughed, delighted.
"Good."
The wedge suddenly jerked, like something had grabbed it from the other side.
Auntie cursed, lunging forward, pressing her body against the door from below.
Blitz helped, shoulder to wood.
The wedge scraped across the floor.
Sionu's heart hammered.
Ultimo's hands clenched, and the concrete beneath his feet groaned faintly.
The wedge slid another inch.
Blitz gritted her teeth. "It's strong as hell!"
Auntie hissed, "It ain't strong. It's desperate."
Then the wedge flew out completely, ripped away.
The basement door swung open an inch, then two.
Auntie slammed her weight into it.
Blitz slammed too.
But the door kept pushing, steady, unstoppable.
Sionu stepped forward, hands raised, electricity roaring in his veins.
He aimed at the crack.
Not at a face.
At the space.
He thrust his palms forward and willed the lightning to obey.
A bright arc snapped into existence, crawling along the door frame like a living wire. Another arc followed, connecting corner to corner, forming a jagged lattice.
The smell of ozone filled the air.
The door shuddered.
A shriek erupted from the gap, high and furious, like the sound of a radio being torn in half.
"AAAAH!"
The door jerked back, as if something had been shocked.
Blitz stumbled, catching herself.
Auntie's eyes widened, impressed but not surprised.
Ultimo gasped, "Bro!"
Sionu's arms trembled as he held the lightning fence, sweat pouring down his face.
The crack in the door smoked.
From the other side, the voice snarled, no longer sweet.
"You think that stops me?"
Sionu's teeth clenched. "It's stopping you right now."
The voice laughed, dark. "You don't got stamina for this, Starborne."
Sionu's arms shook harder.
It was right.
He could feel the power draining, not like muscle fatigue but like his SOL was being siphoned.
He was burning his own soul like fuel.
Auntie whispered, urgent, "Sionu, don't hold it forever. Pulse it!"
Sionu blinked. "What?"
Auntie snapped, "Flash it on and off. Like a heartbeat. You'll last longer."
Sionu swallowed, then did it.
He released the lightning for half a second.
Then snapped it back.
The fence reappeared brighter, sharper.
The thing outside hissed.
Sionu released again.
Then snapped it back.
Pulse.
Pulse.
Pulse.
Each burst felt like ripping a piece of himself free and throwing it into the air.
But it worked.
The door stopped pushing.
The thing outside backed away, footsteps retreating.
The voice whispered, low and hateful:
"This house ain't the only door."
Then silence.
Sionu's arms dropped. He stumbled back, breathing hard, vision blurred.
Blitz grabbed him. "You good?"
Sionu shook his head. "No. But I'm here."
Ultimo stared at the door like it was a mouth. "It said… this ain't the only door."
Auntie's face tightened.
She looked up toward the ceiling.
Then whispered, "Windows."
Blitz's eyes widened. "Oh no."
From upstairs, glass shattered.
Then another window.
Then another.
The sound of breaking moved across the house like footsteps.
Blitz whispered, "It's letting others in."
Auntie's jaw clenched. "Or it's calling them."
Ultimo's breathing quickened. The air grew heavy again, dust lifting.
Sionu's fingertips sparked weakly now, his power tired.
Blitz's face hardened into decision.
"We can't stay here," she said.
Auntie nodded once, grim. "Basement held. But the house… the house is compromised."
Ultimo swallowed. "Where we go?"
Auntie looked at them all, eyes sharp with a kind of faith that didn't need comfort.
"There's a place," she said. "Not safe. But safer."
Blitz frowned. "Where?"
Auntie's eyes flicked to Sionu.
"The Ebony Church," she said quietly. "Latvier."
Sionu's stomach tightened.
He'd heard of it.
Everybody had.
A black-painted church that sat like a warning on the edge of the district, half sanctuary, half secret. People said you could walk in broken and walk out… different.
People also said if you walked in with the wrong spirit, you never walked out at all.
Blitz's voice was low. "That place real?"
Auntie nodded. "Real enough to have rules. Real enough to have protection."
Ultimo whispered, "Protection from what?"
Auntie's answer was quiet.
"From the things that know your name."
Above them, footsteps spread through the house.
Multiple now.
Light. Skittering. Wrong.
A chorus of faint giggles drifted down, like children playing in a room full of knives.
Blitz tightened her grip on the pry bar. "We leaving now."
Auntie nodded. "Back exit."
Sionu forced himself upright, legs trembling.
Ultimo braced, shoulders tight, gravity humming around him like an unseen halo.
Auntie grabbed a duffel bag, already packed, slung it over her shoulder like she'd been waiting for the world to prove her right.
They moved.
Quiet.
Fast.
As they crept toward the back basement door that led into the alley, the voice from upstairs returned, distant but clear, sweet again:
"You can run… but your SOL leaves a trail."
Sionu's hands sparked weakly, like a candle refusing to die.
Blitz leaned close to him, voice fierce and intimate.
"Listen to me, baby," she whispered. "Whatever you are… you're still you. Don't let this turn you into something that forgets who it loves."
Sionu swallowed, throat tight. "I'm trying."
Blitz nodded. "Try harder."
Auntie opened the basement back door a crack.
Cold air poured in, carrying smoke and sirens.
They slipped into the alley.
Behind them, upstairs, the front door of the house slammed open.
And a chorus of voices, layered and hungry, called out into the night like a prayer gone wrong:
"STARBORNE…"
Sionu's blood went cold.
Kaloi's City wasn't just quarantined now.
It was hunting.
to be continued...