Mile-High Malediction Part II: Descent

When the plane came crashing down, Shen-Yun was the first at the emergency exit. Another passenger tumbled past as the aircraft “experienced turbulence.” Still, Shen-Yun stood resolute, silently snatching a parachute.

As they passed over an island, he motioned toward the door. The flight attendants—frantic, barely keeping it together—nodded back sheepishly. He flung it open and vanished without a word, diving like a Navy SEAL on a mission.

No one had ever died in these crashes. In fact, no plane had even been seriously damaged. Water rescues were just really annoying and tedious.

He didn’t scream. He didn’t flinch. He just stared down the island throughout his descent. Only when he deployed the parachute did he finally let himself breathe.

Seventh crash. But finally—a land rescue. He’d been taking skydiving lessons just for this moment.

He looked up, smug and satisfied—barely noticing the black dot on the horizon. Wait. It was growing now. Too big. Oh god.

Priya swooped down like a hawk, bearing down with the weight of a thousand suns. Of course she’d let that monk handle all the logistics—It gave her more time to plot revenge.

She dove for Shen-Yun. He’d been calm throughout the entire crash—just an ordinary Tuesday. Now he slapped his face. Stammering. Bracing.

Just barely, he dodged in time. But as their parachute strings wove together, she charged yet again. Somehow, Shen-Yun evaded once more, like a splendid matador.

But as their parachutes wrapped more tightly, they began losing altitude. Frantic, they thrashed in opposite directions, trying to escape. But every move only tightened the threads in an endless loop. Ironic.

They tumbled onto the beach together.

Shen-Yun groaned, sliding across the sand. “Crazy witch!”

Priya smiled, eyes bloodshot. She started to rise in shaky bursts, like pain was fuel and defiance was oxygen. No room for mercy. He noticed—and scrambled upright, panic flickering behind his eyes.

His quick, sharp tug on the threads yanked Priya down, flat against the sand. The air slammed from her lungs. She blinked in disbelief, then glared up at him like he’d just declared war.

“So what’s your deal, huh?” She screamed. “Why are you chasing me?”

“Me?” Shen-Yun laughed. “I want you gone! You chase me!”

For some reason, Priya glanced down at the sand. Her eyes softened, almost meek. She wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was the exhaustion. Or maybe it was the way his voice cracked.

Noticing the shift, Shen-Yun deflated. “You come from air … like flying ninja. Like Predator.”

She laughed, regaining her footing. “Oh yeah?” She pounced on him, unleashing her full wrath. Biting into his shoulder as he cried out.

Loosening her grip momentarily, she winked. “What am I now?”

“Like cheetah! Ah! Incisors sharp, like jaguar …”

Shen-Yun reached into his secret pouch and flung salt at her eyes, warding off evil.

“What the f—” Sand blinded her before she could finish.

“That’s what you get, demon!”

She turned away, gasping through tears and reddened eyes. She jolted away, trudging as far from him as possible.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted, chasing after her. His face hit the ground as she started running, tugging the threads that bound them.

When Shen-Yun’s dead weight came tumbling down, so too did Priya. Again. They rolled in agony, facing each other.

They tussled a few more times in the wet sand, drenching themselves in kelp and sea-salt. Finally, they resigned themselves as amber sunset hues appeared on the horizon.