Magic has always existed in human society. Throughout all of our history, it has been used to explain the unexplainable. From Gods driving chariots across the sky, to witches 3 influencing kingdoms, magic has always been at the root of it all. Real or imagined, it has played a role in our very lives and psyches since we as a species started walking upright and chipping stone for tools. Which is why the events of the latter half of December 2011, while thoroughly shocking, shouldn't have actually surprised anyone.

December 26, 2011.

After another disheartening Christmas in which none of my friends cared to invite me to their festivities, and my family still hated me. I sat on the edge of the Murango bridge, staring over into the garbage laden Mississippi river below, pondering what a shit-fest my life was.

Sorry, didn't introduce myself...my name is Fuyuki Yamamoto, known as Fu to what few friends I have. I am an American of Japanese descent; my grandparent's emigrated from japan after the second world war, enduring quite the figurative enema to make the USA their new home. My parent are both Americans of Japanese descent also, named Arisu (my mom)and Hideki (my dad) respectively. While the rest of my family could speak and read Japanese quite easily, I could not...mainly because I was an idiot.

I didn't mean I wasn't smart, far from it. I was what my parents called 'a lazy leaf'...I didn't know where I wanted to fall, just drifting in the breeze. I was 30, a graduated jobless art major, who only now was realizing that I should have done what my parents asked and majored in medicine or law instead. Art just did not pay the bills. I mean sure, I'd sold some things at art fairs and the like, but the lack of recognition was meaning more ramen then pizza lately, and the debts were beginning to hit. I couldn't even score a teaching job at my old Alma mater.

All that wouldn't be so bad, except for one thing...the job market blew soft gooey green chunks. So penniless, alone unless the bottle of cheap red wine counted, I settled down on the bridge, contemplating life and the turgid waters below. At least, until a shout broke the silence.

"No, you mustn't! you need to live!"

A small missile of silk and flesh slammed into me, knocking me to my side and away from the edge. The back of my head collided with the stone bridge and I saw stars a moment. As soon as I regained sense I saw what hit me...a woman, dark brown hair, a classic face, and a body built for sin, both just starting to show their age. I'd guess her to be around 40...definite MILF material, dressed in a maroon silk body wrap, that shimmered when she moved. Kind of odd clothes for the middle of winter, come to think of it.

"I wasn't really thinking of jumping miss..." I didn't see a ring, why not flatter her if I can?

"Call me Betty."

"OK Betty, I'm Fu, and I wasn't really considering suicide. Just drinking my problems away for a bit."

"You can't lie to me, you were thinking thoughts of death."

OK, so a crazy person; great. Just what I need while working on a drunk.

"Betty, I was thinking of faking my own death for a moment, but I wasn't serious. Let's just say I'm not in the best financial situation at the moment and leave it at that, OK?"

"I might be able to help you, if you want to."

"To do what, fake my death?"

"Yes. All you need to do is come with me."

She was a stranger, she was crazy, she was hot, and I was drunk with nothing really to lose. The decision was an easy one.

"I warn you, if you are leading me into a mugging, all you'll get is pocket lint."

"I'm not here to mug you. In fact, your world's continued survival may depend on you and you alone. I'm here to help you."

"You realize you sound crazy, right?"

She didn't reply, instead pulling me into the darkened park.

"I found him, lieutenant."

Looming shapes materialized out of the copse of trees; painted faces, camoflage, assault rifles of some type, and night vision goggles. I took a step back.

"Um, I don't have any money guys."

"You need to come with us sir, it's a matter of national security."

"...what?" I looked closer, seeing no markings to denote rank or nationality, even though the guy speaking was obviously American.

"You need to come with us sir, it's a matter of national security." The guy behind him started talking into a headset.

"What am I in for? Using lead based paint?"

"I'm not at liberty to say sir."

I began to hear a chopper approaching. I looked at Betty, seeing a rather happy smirk on her face.

"Well...this is awkward. Don't suppose you guys want to talk to me at all, do you?"

"Not really sir."

"want to tell me what's going on Betty?"

"I can't yet Fu, I'm sorry. But relax, you are in no danger. In fact, these people are here to protect you."

I looked again. Only two members of this...team? Were facing me; there were at least 4 people that I saw facing outward, weapons not quite pointing outward, but ready for deployment in a second.

"Protect me from what? Rogue AL Queda wanting me to paint propaganda?"

The chopper came into view, a big black affair with used to transport troops unless I missed my guess.

"Just come with us sir, I'm sure the boss will explain it to you."

The lieutenant led me back to the trail, where a basket of the type used in air rescues dropped down from the chopper. Following his motions, I climbed in
and he belted me to it. He gave the line a tug, and it started reeling up. A helmeted guy helped me into the chopper and unbelted me, sending the basket down again.

"Please belt yourself in sir, we will be away momentarily."

I did so, watching as the team was brought up in the basket, 2 at a time. Last of all was Betty herself, spryly stepping off the basket with grace and a smile, and belting herself next to me. She took my hand in both of hers, seeming to will me to make eye contact with her.

"It'll be alright, I promise."

Oddly enough, I believed her.