Category Archives: The Last Apprentice

The Last Apprentice

The Last Apprentice: Chapter 5 – The King Appears

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Mila and Sadbay stand at the entrance of the part. The smog seems thickest here. They can make out flickers of campfires around them as shadows of people move around them. The air is stale here, with a lingering stench of rot that sticks to the skin. It all makes Mila’s head hurt. Her heart pounds, almost breaking through her chest. She clutches at the gun in her pocket. The handle has grown warm with her touch. She takes a deep breath, “Well?”

Sad Boy turns to her. “Stay close, and don’t talk to anyone. Whatever you were, where ever you came from, it don’t matter in there.”

Mila looks over her guide. His dress is not much better than the dregs who walk around her, but his demeanor exudes genuine confidence. “And there is no other way?”

Sad Boy sighs, “There is, but you’re being difficult.”

Mila examines the path. Old dirty tents line up against the outside of the gate. Small groups cluster around open flames. Most look tired or lost, others sleep soundly under the glow of the flame.

A shanty town stretches from beyond the gate. Houses clustered together, creating an interesting web of makeshift paths. The shabby buildings are small and held together with different colored metals, plastics, and other discarded materials big enough to build houses. Stacks of smoke spill over rooftops. Probably from the many fires keeping its denizens warm.

The roads are narrow and dark except for a few street lamps that flicker yellow sickly light over the town. The road winds through the part incoherently. The groupings of people get thicker the farther they get from the entrance. People will come up to them. Some sell obsolete electronics, others a random collection of clothes and accessories. Young kids come selling cheap toys and candy.

“Just ignore them,” Sad Boy says from his place in front of her.

The houses start to look nicer the deeper they get. They walk down a street of stands, each with its unique collection of items neatly displayed on old rusted tables.

“That’s all stolen shit,” Sad Boy says as they pass the eager salespeople hawking their various items.

After about 20 minutes of walking, the pair find themselves alone in the town. Barrels still burned the fuel but no one sat around to receive its warmth. The windows were dark and empty, and the few people on the road hurried away in other directions.

“Fuck..” Sad Boy lets out. He pulls a half-smoked cigarette from his picket. “You still got the gun right?”

Mila squeezes at the handle reflexively. “Wh..why?”

“We’re gunna need it…” his voice trails off as he stops “Give it here”

Mila moves to give him the gun and stops. “I rather not.”

Sad Boy continues to scan the darkness around them. “Look we don’t have time to play these games. Give me the gun!” He snaps in an audible whisper.

Before she can answer, a gruff voice reaches from the shadows. “Well, ain’t this somethin. This is indeed a special day. The great Sad Boy himself has blessed us with his presence, and he brought us a little present.”

Two large men with large clubs and stern faces come into view. Behind them, four tired-looking men follow, each holding up a silver ornate throne. The seat was lined with cushy velvet. The metal looks freshly polished, with strange shapes carved around it. There are skulls across the top of the seat and at the end of the armrests. Over the seat, a lone golden lantern swings with each step.

On the seat is a broad man with an amused look on his face. He has a wild beard with matching matted hair. A golden crown adorned with random jewels weighs down the top of his head. He wears a large wool coat that comes down to his knees, with matching gloves. One of his hard plays with the skull at the end of the arm rust, and the other swishes at the wine glass in his hand. He takes a drink of the dark red liquid and smiles. “What y’all to my humble kingdom?”

Sad Boy turns to walk in the other direction, but four large heavily armed men have since appeared to block their escape. “Oh you know,” he turns back “just passing through.”

The king clasps his hands and loudly proclaims, “Well let me at least be a proper host and show y’all a lil hospitality.”

“We’re in a bit of a hurry, but we can take a rain check.” The large men start moving towards the pair.

“I promise I won’t take much of your time,” he flashes a sinister smile. The men continue closing in on the pair. Mila’s hand begins to clam up as they squeeze at the handle.

“Hand me the thing…” Sad Boy whispers almost inaudibly.

Mila pulls out the gun and points it at the King. Her hands shake under the weight of it. Sad Boy is stunned for a moment, but finds his words “Y’all are fucked now! My sister is crazy, and a lot less forgiving than I am!”

The group of men surrounding her stop at the sight of the gun. The king jumps in his seat but then begins to smile. “I don’t think she even knows how to use the thing,” he says as a cocky smirk creeps across his face.

“Take another step and I bet you’ll find out.”

The king jumps from his throne and moves his hand to stop his men. He smiles. “Let’s find out then,” He takes a step towards them.

The world goes silent. Mila looks at the man in front of her. His gown glows under the light of the lantern. She watches as he fiddles with one of his rings. There is a ring on each of his fingers, each with a different gemstone. His smirk grows. “I guess I was right.” He snaps his fingers and the large men move towards the pair.

Mila can feel the heart about to break through her chest. She can feel the air running out around her. She can feel her journey ending with each step they take. She closes her eyes as her finger squeezes at the trigger, but instead of the deafening explosion she expected, she only hears a click. The click bounces off the walls in a desperate echo that stops everyone in place. The world freezes for another second before the King’s booming laughter fills the awkward silence left behind. “This whole time you were comin round here waving an empty gun?” He shakes his head before turning towards his thrown. “Bring them to me alive. I’m going to need to sort this out personally.”

Before Mila can react, she feels a sharp heavy pain on the side of her head as the world around her turns completely black. She can hear Sad Boy’s unintelligible mumbling before completely blacking out on the street.

The Last Apprentice

The Last Apprentice: Chapter 4 – A Stranger in a Strange City

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Mila looks up at the man from her place on the floor. Her vision is blurred from the tears, her ears thump with each heartbeat. A mysterious liquid begins to soak through her jeans. Sad Boy looks down at the Mila with a sly smile. The city continues to move around them as they stand still for what seems like hours.

The cold liquid breaks her trans. The shock slowly begins to fade. She pushes his hand out of the way. “I’m fine.”

Sad Boy crouches so their eyes are at level with each other. She can see his bloodshot eyes and dilated pupils, even in this low light. “This ain’t like whatever nice ass apartment you came from. You won’t last a fucking day on your own. Those two runts aren’t even close to what worst this city has to offer. But if you stick with me, I can get you where you need to go. If you got the money.” He looks her up and down. His smile fades. “You got money right?”

Mila’s arm was still read around where the bruit grabbed her. Her skin still stung. The man in front of her smelled of stale cigars. She tries to swallow some of the shock and almost chokes. In her bravest, toughest voice she replies, “How do I know you won’t try to rob me.”

Sad Boy smiles. “You don’t.” He hands her the gun he had been stashing in his jeans. “But you can shoot me if I try.” The gun shines, even in this dim light. She reaches for the gun, but he pulls it away. “You have to answer my question first.”

“I have money.” Sad Boy hands her the gun. It feels heavy in her hand. She wraps her hand around the handle and is surprised at how well it fits. The danger of the power she holds excites and scares her.

Sad Boy stands. “So you coming or what,” again extending his hand at a distracted Mila.

Mila puts the gun in her bag. She picks up her item and stands on her own. “Where are we goin.”

“You hungry? We can go grab a bite and talk terms. I know a safe bar down the street.”

Mila wasn’t hungry, but a place where she could properly sit was better than this. “Fine. Lead the way.”

Sad Boy smiles. “Come on then!” Sad Boy makes his trek out of the alley, maneuvering expertly around the trash. They exit into a busy street, but no one seems to take notice. She follows him through crowds of people. “They call me Sad Boy,” he shouts over the crowd.

“Mila”

“What brings you to our delightful piece of paradise Mila?”

“I’m looking for someone,” she replies without thinking.

“We’ll you’re in luck. There is nothing in this city I can’t find. Who are you looking for.”

“Let’s just get to your bar first.”

“Well, it’s a hell of a place to be looking for someone. Especially for someone of you pedigre.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re clothes, your look, you scream privilege.”

Mila looks down at her outfit. Her clothes were dirtier than usual. The strange-colored liquid left reaches up her leg. Her hair was messier than usual, matted with dried sweat and possibly more of the mysterious liquid. She smelled like rotten garbage and while some people actively avoided it, most people didn’t seem to notice.

“Well not now,” Sad Boy corrects himself. “But you clothes aren’t made from the same synthetic garbage they use down here and your teeth are clean.”

Mila’s hand moves to her mouth. When was the last time she brushed her teeth? “How much farther?”

Sad Boy stops at the entrance of another alley. “Just through here!” He disappears through the alley.

Mila looks after him. There is a bright neon glow at the other end. She stops at the mouth of the alley. “I’m not doing any more fucking alleys.”

Sad Boy stops with a jolt and turns to Mila. “But it’s right fucking there!” He points at the other end in a feeble attempt to prove his point.

Mila shakes her head. “I’m not going through another alley. I’ll find someone else if you don’t agree to my terms.

“But it..you haven..” Sad Boy notices the tinge of fright that lingers beneath Mila’s stare. He growls in frustration. “FUCK! Fine! Follow me. But this costs extra.” He exits the alley and continues walking down the street.

The smoke starts to get deeper the farther they walk. Small camps and fires have been built between each entrance. They walk over dirty people who smoke at metal pipes, oblivious to the world that walks around them. They walk past a group in a heated argument that ends in blows. Half-naked men and women call from windows and doorways, soliciting clients. A woman walks up and locks her arm with Mila. “You looking for some company sweetheart?” She was a slender woman. Smaller than Mila with raven black hair. She wore an old revealing swimsuit. Her breasts heaved as she followed closely. She smelled of stale cigarettes and cheap liquor.

“Fuck off Minxie, she’s my client.”

“No reason we can’t share Sad Boy. Greed aint a good look for you.”

Sad Boy turns around. “I said fuck off Minx. I’m conducting busy.”

“Well look at who thinks they all important and shit.” Minxie moves closer to Mila till her lips almost touch her ear. She whispers, “I’ll be here for you if you ever change your mind baby. I’ll show you a better time than this fool.” She lets go and walks to the other stranger. He doesn’t take long to accept her offer.

They continue their trek through the redlight district. “It’s not my business what you do, and if that’s what you’re looking for, I won’t stop you, but we need to discuss our business first.”

“How much farther?”

“We’ll we would have already been there already, but you wanted to go the long way.”

“But how much longer?” Mila asks, nervously looking for an escape.

“Well…it depends.”

Mila grows more annoyed with each additional cryptic answer. “Depends on what?” she asks with a stern voice.

“Depends on how fast we can get through that.” Sad Boy points at a large rusting metal gate. Across the top, a sign says “Central Park” in faded letters. But this was no park. Behind the remains of a crumbling stone wall was a sea of tents and makeshift wooden houses. A shanty town that stretches for what seems miles. Sitting across the face of the wall are men, women, and children who star out into the void, lost behind their glazed eyes. There are groups of people who pace slowly around them with a similar glazed stare.

“Zombies?”

Sad Boy shakes his dead. “Drugs.”

“Lovely.”

The Last Apprentice

The Last Apprentice – Chapter 3: Welcome to Old Town

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Mila lies motionless surrounded by piles of trash. A rat scurries around her, but she doesn’t notice. Minutes go by before her senses begin their return. First, the sounds of the city pierce the silence of her shock until it becomes a deafening cacophony of noise. Then the smells of the alley make their assault. An overpowering aroma of rott assaults her senses and sends her puking. She reaches for support and finds none. A yellow liquid evacuates her stomach and mixes with a mysterious mixture of liquids leaking from somewhere within the pile.

“Get the fuck out of here!” A disembodied voice shouts from somewhere above her. The sound of a heavy object lands nearby with a heavy thud. The threat is enough to raise her from her shock. It takes all her strength to get to her feet. She picks up her bag, clutches at her spellbook, and makes her shaky retreat from the alley. Her feet feel heavy as she maneuvers over the piles of trash.

She falls a few times, but eventually, she exits into a busy street. A dense crowd moves in both directions, their voices merging in an incoherent babble. The buildings disappear into the dense cloud of smog above them. The face of each building is covered in neon signs and digital billboards advertising casinos, brothels, and other vices.

Mila joins the current. Her hands shake. Her eyes dart between oddities. This was nothing like home. Half-naked men and women call from doorways and windows. “Comon mami, I’ll take care of you.” She steps over dazed junkies who stare blankly into space, and others who seem lifeless behind their VR headsets. She walks around makeshift campfires of men and women who glare at her with hostile intent. “I got what you need!” A man posted by one of the lamplight yells as he flashes a strange vile.

Her heart begins to race. People bump up against her as they move around her. The smoke chokes her. She gasps for air but nothing seems to fill her lungs. She panics and runs for the nearest ally. She finds a space away from the madness to catch her breath. The noise carries into the alley, but at least she has room to breathe. She sits up against a wall. The cool feel of the wall relaxes her. The darkness around her relaxes her. She breathes deeply. Even the putrid smell of the alley relaxes her.

“Looks like we got a fresh one,” a raspy voice reaches from the darkness.

Another voice giggles. Two figures emerge from the shadows. One is a slender rat-faced man with long greasy hair. His skin is covered with acne and scars. His clothes fit baggy on his slender body and he walks in a hunch. A beast of a man walks behind him. He sports the same greasy haircut but walks with a confident sway. He seems to barely fit the alley, and even at this distance, he towers over Mila. The two stop a few feet away. Mila clutches at her book.

“You’re new here so I’ll fill you in on how things work her.” The slender one continues. He flashes a yellow smile. “This is our turf and you are here illegally.” He takes a step forward. His musk is stale. Mila tries to back away, but the wall blocks her exit. Her heart races.

“Please…” she lets out.

“Hey, we’re reasonable guys. Just give us your stuff, and we’ll leave.”

“But..” She begins to protest, but the words fail to come.

The slender man crouches to where he is slightly above her. His smell is worse than the ally. He flashes his yellowed crooked teeth. “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way mija. We’re leaving with your stuff.” The giant cracks his knuckles above them. Milla lets go of the bag as the rat-faced man takes it. His free hand points at the book. “That too.”

Mila clutches it tightly, bringing it close to her. “I can’t…” she makes out.

His hand grabs at her. It feels bony and his skin scratches at her. “That’s not how this works.” His fingers grip her wrists tightly and pull at her violently. Tears begin to swell in her eyes as she tries to pull away. Her foot flies instinctively at the man, pushing him away with a sudden kick. She turns to run down the alley, but a powerful hand comes down on her before she can take her first step. The giant lifts her. She struggles uselessly under his grip. The rat-faced man scrambles to his feet. He appears flustered. “Now you’ve done it!”

“You’re done Rata! Scurry back to your hole.” A third voice reaches from the shadow. Another slender finger emerges behind it. He wears a plain white baseball cap and his black shirt and jeans are a few sizes too big. His right arm is black with ink of a tattoo depicting a skeleton. It wraps around his forearm. Another tattoo reaches across his neck at his chin.

“Fuck off Sad Boy. This doesn’t concern you.”

“Business with my client concerns me plenty.” Sad Boy stands at the end of the alley.

“We found her first, her stuffs ours!” The slender man protests.

“That’s not what my friend heard,” Sad Boy rebukes, lifting his shirt to reveal the polished handle of a revolver. A small silver cross hangs from a chain attached to the bottom.

Rata looks at the gun pensively for a moment before letting out a frustrated growl. “Fine. Lets go.” The pair turn to leave.

“The bag stays,” Sad Boy adds. Rata tosses it violently at the wall without looking back.

Sad Boy goes over to pick up the bag. Mila watches him from her place on the ground. “You good?” He asks as he reaches down to give her a hand. Mila eyes his hand suspiciously. “If I wanted to hurt you, I would have done it by now.” He helps Mila to her feet. “Can you talk?”

“I can talk..” Mila replies, almost in a whisper.

“Good, this makes things a little easier.” He smiles. “I am here to provide you with an invaluable service. For a small fee, I will be your guide, protector, and mentor and help you to become a respectable member of old town…” he pauses and eyes her up and down. “You have money right?”

Mila nods remembering the envelope her grandmother handed her before pushing her into this nightmare.

“Perfect!” He clasps his hands loudly. “Welcome to Old Town!”

The Last Apprentice

The Last Apprentice – Chapter 2: Final Instruction

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The door closes, leaving the two women alone. “Grandma?” Mila asks, but there is no response. A metallic hum fills the room as Doña Guille stares blankly at the door. Tears swell behind her ancient eyes but are replaced with a sudden look of urgency.

She moves towards the bookshelf. “Mija, grab your bag and pack whatever you need. Essentials only. Apurate!” There is desperation in her voice.

“What’s going on?”

“They found me mija. You have to leave. Hurry!” The old woman begins pulling books off the shelf. They fall with a deafening crash.

“What…what’s going on?” Mila repeats.

Doña Guille sighs and turns to her granddaughter. There is sadness in her eyes. “They know I am a witch. That man is here to pick me up. I don’t have time to explain. You need to get your stuff and leave.” Her tone was stern and demanding. Mila opens her mouth to protest but turns to her room instead. “Pack light. Just what you can carry.” the old woman adds as Mila disappears into the room. Books continue to fall to the ground. Drawers open and shut in the other room.

This goes on for minutes before Doña Guille stands up with an old shoe box and runs to the room. There are two beds crammed into this room with a few dressers. Mila is zipping up her bag when the old woman enters the room.

“Estas lista?” Doña Guille asks in a shaky voice.

“Yea…” she looks over at her grandmother with a worried expression. “You need to tell me what’s going on,” she pleads.

A tear slips from the corner of Doña Guille as she moves towards her granddaughter. Her hand shakes as it lands gently on the young girl’s cheek. “In a few minutes, they’re going to barge through that door and take us and lock us away in a prison built for witches like us. If that happens, there is no escape. They’ll do horrible things to us…” her voice breaks as the words become too hard to say.

“But…but witches aren’t real…” Mila protests.

“They are real mija, and I wish I had more time to explain to you. Pero you need to leave.” The old woman opens the box. Inside is an envelope thick with a bill and an old leather-bound notebook. She hands her the envelope. The bills are worn and dirty and fill the room with a strange musk. “This is all the money I have. It’s not much, but it should get you a few meals. And this,” she says as she picks up the old leather book, “this is our spellbook. Guard it with your life.”

Mila grabs the book it is about the size of a small notebook, but a thick two or three hundred pages. The cover is worn without any distinguishable writing on its face and the pages are worn and yellowed. “This is all we have left of our people. Learn as much as you can from it.”

“Magic isn’t real…”

Footsteps echo down the hall. “We’re out of time mija. You have to be brave. I’m sorry I didn’t teach you enough.” She hugs her granddaughter tightly and fights the tears.

“You’re not coming with me?”

Doña Guille grabs Mila by the shoulders and looks into her eyes. Her eyes swell with the tears she holds back. “This next part, you have to do on your own. I’ll hold them back as much as I can, pero you have to run.”

“Come with me. We can figure this out. We can…”

“No mija. I’m too old. I’m too tired of running.” The footsteps get closer. “I know you’re scared, but you can do this. I know you can. Don’t use your real name. Don’t let anyone know you’re a witch.”

“But..”

“There’s a man named Bones somewhere in the 13th district who knows how to do the old shaman tattoos. Find him. Show him this book.” The footsteps go silent. “I love you mija. Good luck. Jakata!” Doña Guille shouts as she shoves Mila back. A bright white portal of light appears suddenly behind her. It swallows her as she reaches out to grab her grandmother. Mila falls onto the cold hard ground. She sends metal cans rolling against the wall behind her. She looks up to see a final glimpse of her grandmother as the portal shuts. She watches as her grandmother turns to the door. She can hear a loud crash somewhere in the distance. Suddenly, darkness.

Mila remains frozen as the loud noises of the city dance around her. The buzzing of the railcar above, people shouting in the distance, and a bus making its stop somewhere behind her. There is a light at the end of the alley. For the first time since landing, she begins to notice her surroundings. Two long buildings stretch up endlessly on both sides. The alley is wide but thick with trash. It piles up around her. Her bag sits in front of her. A dog barks and it snaps her from her trance. A foul stench fills her nose and she bends over to vomit.

Mila sits there a bit longer as tears fall from her eyes. For the first time in her life, she feels alone as the world continues to move around her.

The Last Apprentice

The Last Apprentice – Chapter 2: A Short Conversation

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Doña stares at the well-dressed man. A brief hint of shock and fear washes across her face. Regaining her composure she lets out, “No. You have the wrong place.” Mila is shocked by her grandmother’s response. It isn’t like her to turn anyone away.

The man leans back to examine the old dirty numbers over the door frame. “No, this is the place.” He smiles at the woman, taking a bold step into the threshold. “Please señora, I’ve come such a long way, I don’t think I can come any other time.” He pulls out a thick wad of cash from his coat pocket. “I promise, I’ll pay you for the inconvenience.”

Mila’s jaw drops. She has never seen so much money. “Abuela, thats so much money.”

The old woman watches the man suspiciously as he takes another bold step into the small dank apartment. “It’s late. Why don’t you come back tomorrow.”

“Disculepe, but it has to be know. I can’t come back tomorrow.”

The old woman lets out a sad sigh. She reaches into her purse and pulls out a few bills. “Mija, why don’t you go down to the 15th and get some refrescos and snacks. The best you can find.”

“Pero,” Mila starts to protest but her grandmother shoots her a stern look. “Okay, I’ll be right back.” She grabs the money and disappears down the hallway.

“Please take a seat,” she points to the empty chair across from her.

“Gracias,” the man smiles as he sits. He pulls a cigar from his coat pocket and cuts it over the table. Crumbs of tobacco fall over the old wooden table. He raises the cigar to his lips but pauses inches from his mouth. Offering the cigar to this host, “Where are my manners?” His voice slick and confident fills the room. “Would you like one?”

The robust tobacco aroma makes her salivate. She takes it and reaches for the lighter.

“No no no, you can’t ruin a fine cigar like this with lighter fluid!” He snaps, quickly lighting a match. He leans over the table, extending the small flickering flame towards her. She hesitates, watching the man carefully before leaning in. She fills her mouth with its sweet relaxing smoke. Her eyes involuntarily close as she savors the taste.

“It’s a good cigar,” the man says, breaking her trance. She opens her eyes to find the man already puffing at his own. “Its because it was made with real tobacco. None of the synthetic stuff they sell in stores. The guy who grows it…”

“Why are you here?” Doña Guille interupts.

The man pauses for a second. Cigar smoke rises around him slowly. He clears his throat. “Right, straight to business.” He takes a slow drag from the cigar before letting the smoke slowly leave his lips. “My name is Gonzalo Molina. I am the head enforcer at the Ministry of Magic, and you Mrs. Cardenas, are a hard witch to find. You are hereby under arrest for the practice of witchcraft. Please come peacefully as any resistance will result in death.”

Doña Guille freezes for a moment. She almost drops her cigar. “You have the wrong person…” Her voice shakes.

The man chuckles. “You’ve been doing this dance long enough to understand that once I come, it’s over. Whether you say you are or aren’t doesn’t matter because I know you’re a witch. I didn’t get to where I am by knocking on the wrong house at the middle of the night, and I am sure as hell not starting today.”

The old woman remains frozen. The cigar burns slowly in her hand. “You shouldn’t waste that. Those are hard to come by.” The man says, taking a long deep inhale from his. She lifts the cigar and takes a nervous puff. It no longer had any flavor.

She lets out a sad exhale. “Leave her out of this. She doesn’t have any magic.”

“It doesn’t work like that.” He ashes the cigar on the table where a small mound has begun to build.

“Then…” she chokes. “Let me be the one to tell her. Let me prepare her.”

“Sure!” The cigar had almost reached his fingers. He smashes the nub onto the table, extinguishing its flame. Smoke rises from it furiously as it leaves behind a trail of soot. The man smiles. “If you promise to come peacefully, I’ll be waiting by the entrance tomorrow morning at 8.” He stands abruptly. The chair scrapes against the metal floor. “Just remember, its over señora. There is nowhere left to run. You can either come peacefully, or we’re hunting you down.” The man drops a wad of cash on the table. “Thank you for the reading.” He turns to leave.

Just then, Mila walks into the room with two bags full of snacks and drinks. “Oh,” she lets out in surprise as she is greeted by Gonzalo’s departure. “Are you already done?”

Gonzalo smiles and pats her head lightly. “Si mija. Your grandmother is remarkable.” The man disappears down the corridor. Mila turns to her grandmother puzzled.

Doña Guille remains frozen in place. She has gone pale. “Abuela?” Mila lets out, realizing her grandmother’s condition.

The old woman snaps back to life, “Close the door!”

The Last Apprentice

The Last Apprentice – Chapter 1: A Knock at the Door

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From the Author

I’ve finally sat down to start writing a fantasy novel I’ve been kicking around for years. I’ll be posting it every two weeks if time allows, and I’d be very open to feedback. Thank you for reading, I hope you like it!

Chapter 1

Mila and her grandmother live in a corner unit on the 71st floor of the 200-floor Beuna Vista Luxury Apartments. The name is a misnomer, and anyone living in the apartments knows they are not luxurious.

The Buena Vista Luxury Apartments is a large rundown and broken stone and iron tower. Every inch of the building is covered in an unwashable layer of filth, and there exists an ever-present rotting odor that sticks to the skin. Some believe that the building was built intentionally faulty, smell and all. There is also the belief that the blackouts and leaks are planned and the appliances were designed to stay broken. Despite its many faults, it is widely accepted that living at the Buena Vista Luxury Apartments is better than living in the slums on the outskirts of the mega city.

Its residents, crammed as close together as the laws and regulations allow, may spend the rest of their lives not knowing their neighbor, but everyone in Buena Vista knows Doña Guille.

Doña Guille is an 80-year-old small brown woman with soft brown wrinkled skin. She keeps her hair short she dyes a regal shade of red regularly. Although her clothes are never new, they are always clean and well-maintained. She looks like a proper lady of society, and people treat her as such because Doña Guille is the tower’s bruja, their witch doctor.

There isn’t a baby in the building she hadn’t delivered, an illness she hasn’t cured, a fortune she hasn’t read. There isn’t a person in this building who hasn’t made their trek to floor 71 at least once. Whether or not they believe in witchcraft, there isn’t a person in the building who wouldn’t go to her at the first sign of illness.

Doña Guille lives humbly in the one bedroom she shares with her granddaughter. Those who enter find themselves in a room with a small plastic table and a wall of planters surrounding it. The purple light from their lamps spills over strange and exotic-looking herbs. Their sweet and minty scent fills the room and mixes with the strong incense that constantly burns. The scent masks the rotting smells and soothes the soul. The purple glow spills onto the plastic, reflecting off the dulling cardboard of the deck of Tarot cards that sits permanently at its center.

On the opposite wall is a wall of vials and jars filled with strangely colored liquids. Potions in miscolored glass that are constantly cycled. At the end of the room, there is a metal desk shoved against the wall. Spread across it are old broken appliances whose guts spill across every inch of the table. Wires and random parts almost spill onto the floor. There is an impressive collection of salvaged vintage tools that hang neatly across the face of the wall. A spotlight hangs recklessly over the center of the workspace.

Mila sits on a small worn stool behind the lamp light. Her gloved hand turns at a screwdriver. Her brown hair sits in a messy bun. There are splotches of oil and grease across her clothes and dark brown skin. Her almost golden eyes peer through the dirty off-colored goggles as she slowly takes apart the dented metal toaster.

A small wrinkled hand grabs at her shoulder and breaks her concentration. “Tienes habre mija?” Doña Guille asks with a smile.

Mila turns and removes her headphones. A low buzzing leaks into the room, turning into a barely audible rumble. Mila looks down at the old watch wrapped around her wrist. It was almost midnight. Her stomach starts to growl. “I guess I should eat.”

The table was already set. A plat of brown mush sits next to a glass of milk. “I made the oatmeal like you like it,” Doña Guille says as she sits in the empty seat across from Mila. She had eaten her dinner earlier that evening. Mila begins shoveling the oatmeal into her mouth. “Have you been practicing the spells I’ve taught you?”

Mila stops eating. Her eyes dark around the room nervously. “Um..” she begins, searching for an excuse. “Just a bit.”

A glimpse of sorrow seeps into Doña Guille’s eyes. She sighs. “I know its silly, pero es importante. You’re the only one left I can teach the old language.”

Gilt washes over Mila. “I know Ama, pero I’ve been busy with work orders. I’ll find some time, I promise.”

“I’m not going to be here forever you know. You need to take advantage that I’m here.” There was clear nervous urgency in her voice.

Mila puts down her spoon and looks over her old grandmother. At that moment, the wrinkles seemed deeper. There were new dark blotches on her skin and a few white hairs were beginning their defiant peer through all the red. Mila grabs her grandmother’s hand. Her warm soft skin feels good to Mila’s touch. “I’ll start tomorrow, I promise. Besides,” she smiles “I already know the word for fire.”

I knock at the door startling the two women. They stare at each other for a moment. “It must be more work,” Mila says as she gets up from the table.

There is a well-dressed man at the other end of the knock. He wears a new and fitted suit and his hair is slicked back with a product that doesn’t exist in this part of the megacity. His dark brown skin seems to glow even in the dim flashing light of the hallway. “Hola,” the man says as he removes his gloves. “I hear you can tell fortunes.” He smiles, flashing his white teeth.

“Ama…” Mila says, still processing the situation. “I think it’s for you.”