“Good morning,” said a cabin stewardess through the open door of the room opposite mine. She stepped onto the corridor with bunched-up sheets and towels in her arms, dumping them into a hamper on wheels. “I finished cleaning your room earlier, ma’am.”

“You did?” I blurted, angling my right hand so she wouldn’t see my palm. I was about to press my key card on my room’s door. Was there stuff in here that others shouldn’t find?

I made sure to clean the blood off my murdering sandals. Other than that, nothing was incriminating inside, I think.

Still, I wasn’t comfortable with people going in and out of my room. It was my sanctuary, my escape from the bullshit of the world, especially Deen. Its sanctity was violated if someone else could come in without my knowledge. Whenever I stayed at hotels, I always hung the ‘Do not disturb’ sign outside my door. No need for housekeeping—I could make my bed because I was a strong and independent woman, thank you very much.

Looking down, I confirmed I had hooked the sign over the intricately carved bronze doorknob. This bitch just ignored it. I could complain and be an absolute bitch myself, but I wasn’t evil as Domino painted me.

I was a nice—okay, fine. I was a considerate person. Rule #4 was proof.

Rather than complain, I graciously thanked the cabin stewardess. She was just too good at doing her job. My face was a pleasant passenger with no issue at all.

“You’re welcome, ma’am,” she replied. “I’ve restocked everything, including the drawers.”

“What drawers?” I couldn’t recall using anything from anywhere except the stuff in the bathroom. I didn’t touch the mini-bar at all. If I got charged for something I didn’t consume, I would sink this ship. The lives of innocent thousands would be on this woman’s head.

“If you need assistance,” she said, either not hearing my question or ignoring it, “don’t hesitate to call four-four-three-zero.” She nodded goodbye, pushed her cart down the corridor, and headed to the elevators.

“Huh? She’s done cleaning all the cabins here?” I shrugged and rushed into my room.

I threw my clothes on my bed, careful not to rip them in my haste to undress. Not going to make that mistake again. Then I excavated my luggage, throwing more clothes everywhere—I hadn’t unpacked yet—looking for something close to what illusion Erind wore. I had to quickly change and return to the restaurant before Deen hunted me down.

Luckily, I had packed a blue shirt. It wasn’t the exact blouse I saw in my reflection, but nothing I could do about that. The blue top was probably generated to match Deen’s sundress.

As for my bottom, the pants closest to the shade of beige of my illusion were those I wore yesterday when we boarded the ship. For some reason, Domino’s powers chose to manifest those. I had draped them over the backseat of a sofa chair by the balcony. I took a quick sniff, didn’t notice any smell, and jumped into them.

Next, I wore the fingerless gloves that I had left on the bedside table beside my glasses.

“Was I wearing these on both hands?” I wondered. When I checked my reflection with the spoon, I held it with my right hand and saw that my left was covered. Deen mentioned that my right was gloves. “So, both of them, then.”

I tucked my hair behind my ears before putting on my glasses, then checked how I looked in the small mirror on the table. Nerdy, frail, pale as a vampire victim with the air of a side character. The glasses really helped with the non-threatening vibe. Zero indication that I had the highest kill count out of anyone on this cruise ship.

I’d rather not wear glasses—there were for my law school face—but my illusion had them on for some reason, even though Deen knew I didn’t need them. She thought my Adumbrae powers cured my eyesight when I turned monster, not that it was fine all along.

“And to complete my outfit…” I bent down to pick up my ruined pair of sandals. The frayed straps of the right one hang loose.

I looked around for what I could wear instead.

The only other sandals I had were given by the masked woman outside the secret 2Ms lounge so that I wouldn’t walk barefoot back to my room. Very considerate of her, especially after I had killed her co-worker. They were a perfect fit. Did their database about me include my feet size?

Unfortunately, my new pair was from a luxury brand that didn’t remotely look close to Deen’s gift, bought from a small boutique across my Vegas condo.

Besides them, I had two pair of sneakers and two pairs of flip-flops, one of which I was wearing now.

“Maybe I can stick the straps back…”

I went to the other side of the room and yanked open cabinets and drawers, hoping for staplers or sticking tapes. When I opened the drawer beneath the study table, I was surprised to find several papers. I expected it to be empty or maybe have a notepad or a bible.

The topmost paper appeared to be the layout of a ship, maybe this same cruise ship.

At first, I thought it was a fire emergency escape guide for passengers. Arrows were showing the way… somewhere. But it was too detailed, and the arrows pointed down to parts of the ship that passengers wouldn’t wander to. I could be wrong, but was this showing crew spaces below the passenger decks?

Curious, I shuffled through the other papers—some more maps detailing ways into the ship's bowels. I was never good with appliance manuals, and I hated reading these instructions. These were definitely not flyers for tourists.

There were also pictures.

One was of a mechanical-looking place with big machines. Maybe the engine room? Another showed a hatch or a door with that steering wheel contraption to open it. There were signs on it. Lastly, there was a dim picture with blurry features as if it was hastily taken, the person stowing the camera away before the image was fully processed.

But I could discern what it was—three small boats floating in an enclosed rectangular pool. They all had cranes attached to their back portions, and could probably fit ten people.

“So, this is where they’re hiding,” I said. “I just don’t know where ‘where’ is.”

According to Big Marcy, these small ships would depart for Red Island on the fourth night of the cruise. The cruise was for five days and four nights. That meant the trip to Red Island would happen on our return to California from Mexico. After a relaxing vacation, it was off to become monsters for the 2Ms’ wealthy clients. Based on the picture, the ships were disguised as fishing vessels.

My job was to lead Dario and the gang here without revealing that Big Marcy was helping us.

I checked the other drawers to see if they contained anything more. Nothing. I also didn’t find anything to fix my sandals.

“Oh, this is what she meant by the drawers,” I mumbled. Big Marcy must’ve sent the cabin stewardess to communicate with me discretely. His brother, Mark, also had men on this ship.

But it wasn’t an excuse to enter my room without my permission! ‘Do not disturb’ included not delivering secret messages. She could’ve just slotted them under the door.

I repeatedly snapped my fingers. “What was that number she mentioned? Four-four-three-zero?”

I picked up a wide leather-bound booklet beside the phone and flipped through the room service menu. The food items didn’t have prices next to them—an obvious sign they were unconscionably expensive as fuck. On the last page were the telephone numbers of housekeeping, admin, and other offices. Four-four-three-zero wasn’t listed. It could be a passcode for something.

“I wonder what will happen if I dialed the—oh? What’s this?”

A piece of paper slipped from among the maps and pictures. It was torn from a nice-looking stationery. I scanned the ugly scribbles on it.

It was a handwritten letter addressed to me.

“Dear, Erind… Huh? Who is this—?” My eyes flicked to the end of the note. I groaned. It was from Ramon. Good thing it wasn’t a love letter, or I would’ve vomited on it.

Ramon reiterated his offer to come with me to Red Island. He wrote crap like he wasn’t afraid, and he’d protect me from danger and use his strength to do it, those sorts of nonsense. He confessed that big Marcy didn’t want him to go, but he’d find a way to leave.

He might prove useful. He had fought by my side when I was Pino and was intensely loyal because he liked like me. Slipping in this note amongst the papers Big Marcy sent displayed Ramon’s resourcefulness. But how could he come with me without being spotted by Dario and the rest? No way they’d agree to work with him.

“… we’ll be humans again, I promise—Ugh, whatever. I don’t have time for this.” I hid the papers under the thick bed mattress and exited my room. I had no fix for the sandals problem. Just have to hide my feet from Deen.

The corridor was empty. I sprinted to the elevators.

One was open. I hopped in and pressed the button for the floor with the breakfast buffet restaurant.

As the doors closed, my reflection stared back at me.

My own face.

And it contorted into a frown. A wave of irritation welled within me when I realized the meaning of Domino’s power.

I choose my face to present to people. To manipulate people. Or even just for fun.

I never showed who I really was, and I always molded the face I’d wear to the world to suit my purposes. Me, me, me.

But as Domino, the people around me got to pick my face.

That stupid power was a bullshit prank by SpookyErind! Boatloads more annoying than having Domino as my alter ego. My frowning reflection smirked when I realized I made a ship pun. Not really funny, but it made me giggle.

“SpookyErind must be laughing her head off about this,” I said, running my thumb over the crystals on my palm.

Whether it’d be Domino or me in the driver’s seat, assuming I could assert control, not that I’d try transforming into her ever again, the illusion would trap us with chains, not of our own choosing. Domino would go along with it because she wanted to bring joy and be nice to others.

Me? I’d be bound by Rule #7: Don’t do anything that would break the character of the face I had on. Domino’s power wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when Rule #7 was made, but it would apply to it. Better not summon Domino’s mask again because I didn’t want her powers, despite how useful they were, even if I could learn to take control, like with Blanchette.

I had misgivings about Domino after yesterday’s run.

Emotions I haven’t felt before… couldn’t process… couldn’t comprehend, enveloped my consciousness, turning me into an altogether different person. I only realized it until after I returned as Erind. It was close to what happened when Blanchette first transformed into a giant werewolf—all of my ‘self’ was squeezed to the back of my brain, and the feral instincts of a bloodthirsty predator took over.

Despite my misgivings, I gave Domino another go today. I couldn’t deny that her powers were super helpful. If I figured them out while uncovering Dario’s secrets, then that’d be a massive win for me. I hated her guts, just like she hated mine—we didn’t share actual guts—but she did get me to Big Marcy.

Emotions ramped up to eleven was… unpleasant. Disconcerting. I wouldn’t say revolting, but I didn’t like it.

But it also interested me. I was thinking of it like chilis. Spicy food was uncomfortable—my spice tolerance was way low. Sometimes, however, I did dip my toes, my tongue, rather, in spicy food. And it was also like people-watching, my favorite hobby. It was a novel experience having a first-person view of a normal person.

“Normal person?” I scoffed. “Yeah, right. Normal persons want to jump off ships.”

In the few minutes I had disappeared, the breakfast crowd had swelled. It was ten minutes past seven, and most of the ship woke up hungry. Among the sea of faces, I noticed a beautiful but very annoyed one staring serrated daggers at me.

“I’m back!” I announced, sitting behind two food mountains.

What was I supposed to do with these? Force-feed myself?

I’d get charged for leftovers if I didn’t finish the food. No fucking way I’d spend more than I already had for this cruise. It wasn’t the attempt to unalive herself that made me angry at Domino, but her parting gift for me. She wasn’t going to exist ever again.

“Where did you go?” Deen demanded, slamming the table with her palms. There was a metallic creak, and the table had a slight tilt. “What took you so long?”

“I told you I was doing a number two, didn’t I?” I giggled. It was the first thing that came to my brain as I switched back to Erind and stuck with it. Not that it was a lousy excuse, actually. “It took some time to… move things along. Hang on, do you know what number two is? Like I know you’re sheltered and all, so let me explain—”

“I know what number two is!” Deen loudly interjected, drawing stares. She lowered her voice. “I’m not some princess locked away in a tower, oblivious to the world. But why did you have to leave? There’s a restroom right there.”

“Because… too many people here,” I whispered.

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s impossible to have the restroom to myself. I might make, uh, loud noises. I mean, it was like a washing machine inside my stomach. If, uh, if it all comes rushing out and—”

“I get the picture.” Deen reached over the table to cover my mouth with her hand. “Jeez, I don’t want that picture in my brain. Erase, erase, erase!”

“We’re best friends, right?” I said, leaning away from her. “We’ve gotten close since living together that we’re practically sisters.” I almost smirked after saying that. “We can talk about disgusting stuff.”

“I don’t talk to my sister about this,” Deen huffed, pointing a fork at me.

“You barely talk to your sister,” I shot back.

Deen sighed. “Good point. Anyway, don’t leave me like that next time. I was just sitting here with this bunch of food, and people gave me funny looks, thinking I would eat them all. It looks like I’ve been stood up, and I’ve never been stood up before.”

“We’re not on a date,” I said, snorting.

“Are you okay with eating now?” she asked. “Or do you still have stomach problems? We should go to the clinic and—”

“I’m fine. I have to eat and refill after voiding my—”

“Shush, you!” she hissed at me.

“Help me eat.” I pushed a plate to her.

“I’m full. You know I don’t eat a heavy breakfast, like ever. And it’s your fault you—”

“I don’t know what came over me when I took this much food,” I said, putting on a sad expression. “I-I’m just probably nervous about this whole thing.” I looked up at her, trying to get my eyes wet. “Maybe the stress is also the cause of my upset stomach.” Lies going out so smoothly, like freestyle rapping.

“Oh, Erind…” Deen reached for my right hand with both of hers. “I sensed right that you weren’t yourself this morning.”

I kept my fingers relaxed as she held them. Domino behaved too uncharacteristically. I shouldn’t be surprised that Deen noticed something.

She said, “Your hug felt different. There was this cloud of worry above you. I think I know what you’re thinking.”

“You do?”

“You’re scared because we’re bringing the fight to the enemy,” said Deen, completely missing it. “This is it. All our other fights were serious, of course. Several times we could’ve died—you more than me. But this fight might be our last. If we win, then the—”

“The credits will roll,” I said. “Same as if we lose.”

“We won’t lose,” Deen firmly said as she squeezed my hand.

“O-okay…”

She let go of me and picked up an egg tart on my plate. “I’ll help you eat, so don’t be afraid anymore.”

“Uh, it’s going to be better if you help me in the fight, not in eating.”

“I’ll help you in the fight, too. I’m just saying, let’s eat breakfast together.”

I simply replied, “Thank you.”

If it were just me, on my own with no allies, I’d probably not bother going to Red Island. I disliked trips that took days. I disliked cruise ships. I disliked people. Half of me wanted to steal the boat going to Red Island but instead head back to the mainland. I’d rather stay in bed and wait for enemies to hunt me. But having Deen along somehow changed me. To some extent… I now understood why girls went to the restroom as a group.

“Can I get another hug?” Deen grinned at me.

“Nuh-uh. That’s all you get until I get another existential crisis,” I said. And what a literal existential crisis that was, with Domino planning to take me down with her.

Would I also die if she did?

My transformations and I had different bodies; I had tested this several times. While Blanchette, Pino, or Domino was on the stage, my Erind body was in limbo. If my transformation died, would I get stuck in some other dimension forever? Or did I have an extra life like in those video games?

Deen said, “Erind, know that I’m always here for you. Don’t bottle up your emotions. You can be real with me.”

I stopped mid-scooping some baked beans. When Domino stared at her reflection in the shiny elevator doors, she told me to ‘be real.’ What a stupid advice that was. And she knew it was stupid, so she wanted to prevent me from returning.

“Really, Deen? Are you sure you can handle me if I’m totally real with you?”

“I know you’re carrying very heavy baggage,” she replied. “I’m here to help. Always. I promise I won’t judge you, so feel free to share what’s in your heart.”

“I’d rather not.”

“Why not?”

“I’m an introvert.” I stuck out my tongue at her.

Deen chuckled. “I thought you were going to something serious. It’s only—”

“Good morning, ladies!” Reo approached our table. Everett followed behind him.