# What If Prologue

Prologue
​
A late autumn breeze blew in from the open window, slightly disturbing the curtains as it flowed into the new home. The wind swirled around the still-unpacked room, past boxes left haphazardly throughout the small one-bedroom apartment, rustling the fresh bouquet of flowers with a large “Congratulations!” balloon still tied to the vase. Deeper still it flew, into the bedroom, freshly christened by the young couple of Lucy and Anon. Only Anon felt it, though; Lucy had long since fallen asleep, exhausted from the move out of her parents house and from… other things. Anon’s bare chest prickled with goosebumps for a moment as he lay there, hands folded behind his head, smiling up at the celling. One month since he and Lucy got back together, one month since his return to Volcaldera after his long stay away from the love of his life. As his eyes drifted shut, Anon listened to the breeze whistle softly through the apartment he shared with Lucy, utterly content at the new life he was about to start.
​
The wind blew in from the open window, bringing a new beginning; but it was not the beginning anyone could have imagined.
​
Anon rubbed the sleep from his eyes, sitting up in his new bed, the shadows of unpacked boxes lingering in the morning gloom. Yawning sleepily, he made his way to the bathroom, the tap sputtering slightly as he washed his face, preparing to face the first day of the rest of his life. Still unused to the new surroundings, Anon cast his gaze around for his toothbrush before realizing it was still packed away. Lucy had been very insistent that they pick up where they left off, and that did not include unpacking right then. “My parents bought us this bed, Anon. We should break it in, just to make sure it’s a good one…” Smiling, Anon wiped his face on his sleeve: A part of him was surprised that bed was still in one piece! His eyes adjusted to the morning gloom, Anon stared into the mirror’s reflection, angling to get a glance at the woman who had so effortlessly captured his heart.
Lucy wasn’t there.
Frowning, Anon turned, quickly stepping into the bedroom, the empty room mocking his previously contentment. Something was strange about the room, and not just for the lack of Lucy. The stacks of unpacked boxes seemed… smaller, the bedframe different. Anon shivered against the breeze that blew in from the opened window down the hall, his panic growing.
“Lucy? Lucy, where are you?” Anon cried out, crossing the room quickly to peek into the closet. Nothing. Calling out again, his footsteps quickened on the hardwood of the hallway, his gaze frantically checking the second bathroom, the kitchen, the living space. Nothing. No balloon, no flowers, no Lucy. It was as if she had just… vanished, taking with her all aspects of their shared life. Anon could feel his heartbeat ringing in his ears as he rushed back to the bedroom, numb fingers fumbling through his pants pocket for his phone.
“J-just out getting coffee, probably…” Anon had never gotten over his mumbling, the frequency always increased in times of stress. Checking his phone, the wrongness of the morning continued. Someone had deleted Lucy’s number from his speed-dial, changed his background from a smiling selfie he had taken with Lucy on the pier to some esoteric landscape shot. The phone quaked in his hands as he punched in a familiar number, one he had memorized since returning: Lucy’s number.
“We’re sorry, the number you are trying to reach is no longer in service. If you would like to-“ Anon cut off the robotic voice with a touch of his thumb. His chest felt like it was going to burst, his breathing ragged. Anon quickly tapped up a new phone call, struggling to remember the number of Lucy’s parents’ house.
One ring, followed by a second.
A third seemed to stretch out into infinity.
“Hello? This had better be good buddy, it’s seven in the damn morning!” The rough voice of Ripley crackled through the phone, and for the first time Anon felt relief at hearing the voice of Lucy’s father.
“Ripley, it’s Anon. Look, Lucy’s not a home, did she say anything to you, say she was going anywh-“
Before Anon can finish, Ripley cuts him off, nearly yelling at this point. “Anon? Who the fuck is that? Who’s calling?!” A gnawing pit of fear feasts on Anon’s stomach as he takes another deep breathe to calm himself down.
“Anon, sir, Lucy’s boyfriend? Y-you helped us move in together yesterday.” Anon can’t help but keep the stammer from his voice. Ripley was a strong man, in both mind and body, there’s no way Alzheimer’s could have caught him this fast. Working some moisture into his mouth, Anon continued his desperate plea to the ptero-patriarch on the phone. “I woke up this morning, and she was just…gone, and I don’t know what to do!”
“Lucy’s boyfriend? You little shit, how dare you bring her name up to me! I haven’t spoken to Lucy, to Fang in years! Why the fuck would I care if you moved in with that good-for-nothing shit, I ought to run a trace on you and beat the shit outta you, you little –“
Anon cuts the call off, the phone slipping from his hands. He and Lucy had lunch with her parents just yesterday, and Lucy had lived in their house before deciding on moving into a new apartment with her boyfriend, Anon. Anon, the one currently standing alone, in an empty home, with no sign of the love of his life to be found.
​
Something had gone very, very wrong.