In the dazzling new Star Light District, rumors swirl about children mysteriously losing their memories while playing unsupervised. Haley and Robin dive into the heart of the district to uncover the truth, armed with curiosity, determination, and a cryptic music player that might hold the key to solving the mystery.
This story is number 3 in The Sounds’ serial, with Body Drop and Testing Predictions on an Abandoned Village being the first two. Be sure to visit The Sounds webpage to catch up on continuing stories.
UPDATE for January 17, 2025: This story has been revised with expanded details and overall improvements as part of the release of episode 4.
Haley and Robin stepped off the elevator, brushing past a sasquatch with deep auburn fur, a towering minotaur whose horns gleamed like polished ivory, and a sleek bipedal humanoid machine emitting a faint hum. The trio remained in the elevator as its doors slid shut, leaving Haley and Robin to take in the Star Light District of Aequus’ Underground Zone. Above ground, sunlight would bath the city in natural warmth, but here, the artificial night stretched infinitely across the ceiling. Pinpricks of light mimicked distant stars, arranged in constellations both familiar and fantasy, while faintly glowing paths outlined the edges of the vast, bustling new district.
Robin tightened her grip on Haley’s hand, her tone calm but curious. “So, how do we find some parents willing to talk to us?”
Haley slipped her music player out of the pocket of her pink hoodie. The rectangular device felt solid in her hand, its buttons smooth and satisfyingly tactile. Though it lacked the modern amenities of holograms or voice commands, the unassuming gadget offered something far more unique. The song titles it displayed hinted at the future and whispered hidden truths. After solving a murder at a concert and unraveling the mystery of an abandoned village, Haley felt confident that it would guide her again. This time, she sought answers to a peculiar story: children in the district were reporting unexplained memory loss.
“How do we find affected parents?” Haley asked the music player aloud, her voice low and deliberate. She pressed the shuffle button. “‘Guided by Angels,’” she read.
Robin raised an eyebrow, glancing at her girlfriend’s determined expression. “Well,” she said, a hint of amusement creeping into her voice, “let’s look for something angelic.”
They scanned the lobby together. Haley’s eyes drifted upward, mesmerized by the canopy of false stars overhead. Neon streaks, like comets crossing the sky, carved slow arcs through the darkness. Her gaze shifted to the walls, where golden, embossed vines shimmered with a lifelike glow under the soft lighting.
“Found one!” Robin said, pointing to a fountain with three statues of angels.
“Great work,” Haley thanked Robin as they walked over to the fountain.
Haley followed Robin’s finger to a trio of angelic statues presiding over a circular fountain. Water cascaded from their outstretched hands, rippling across shallow basins. Streams of flame spiraled in time with the water, their interplay producing a delicate hiss as the two elements brushed against one another. The air around the fountain carried a subtle warmth, contrasting with the cool mist. Together, the fire and water created a sensory symphony, blending heat and moisture, light and shadow, into a mesmerizing dance of opposing forces.
As they approached, Haley noticed a ghaukvoi mother and her child seated on the fountain’s edge. The child’s laughter rang out, pure and unrestrained, as he swirled a hand through the mist. The mother, her cerulean skin shimmering faintly under the artificial starlight, watched him with a mix of affection and mild distraction. Her cobalt hair cascaded in gentle waves, catching the faint glow of the fountain.
“Excuse me,” Haley said, stepping closer but keeping her tone gentle. “Has your child mentioned experiencing memory loss?”
The mother turned, her vivid blue eyes narrowing slightly as she studied Haley. “Yes,” she said, her voice lilting with a melodic cadence. “I take it you’ve heard about the news reports? Practically every kid here seems to be saying the same thing lately.”
Robin tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. “You don’t seem too concerned.”
The mother shrugged, her eyes drifting back to her child. “It’s probably just some prank or trend they’ve picked up. Kids always find new ways to amuse themselves.”
Haley met the mother’s gaze, her tone steady and devoid of judgment. “I think there might be something more to what’s happening. My name is Haley,” she said, gesturing to Robin with a small smile. “And this is my partner, Robin.”
Robin gave a friendly wave, her hand brushing against her denim jacket.
The mother’s gaze hardened slightly as she folded her arms. “What’s this going to cost me?”
“Nothing,” Haley assured her, spreading her hands in a gesture of openness. “I’m not a licensed detective—just someone with a passion for solving mysteries.”
The mother checked on toward her child, who was now enthralled by the water and fire’s hypnotic interplay. After a moment, she sighed and lowered herself onto a polished granite bench. The surface glistened under the artificial starlight, its edges cool and sharp.
“My name is Aura,” she said, brushing her cobalt hair behind her ear. Her tone softened as she looked at Haley and Robin. “What would you like to know?”
“Have you noticed any patterns in when your child’s memory seems to go missing?” Haley asked, her voice soft but probing. She added quickly, “Or perhaps with other children you’ve spoken to?”
Aura sighed, her brows furrowing as she thought. “Sometimes, after I let Uris play with his friends, I’d ask him what they did, and he’d just… go blank. Like the whole day had been wiped clean.” Her tone carried a hint of frustration, though it softened when she glanced at her son, who was now splashing a hand in the fountain’s mist.
“Is there a spot where they tend to play?” Haley pressed, taking a seat beside the mother.
Aura shook her head, her hair swaying. “Not really. They run all over the district—there’s no one spot.”
Robin chimed in, her voice edged with curiosity. “What about his networker? Have you checked its tracking data?”
“I did,” Aura said, her voice dropping, “but there was nothing. I figured the networker just lost its signal.”
Robin exchanged a puzzled look with Haley. “That’s strange.”
Aura shrugged, a calming parental acceptance creeping into her tone. “As I said before, I’m not worried. My mother says the kids are just being kids, and if I’m being honest, putting Uris to bed has been way easier lately.”
Haley bowed her head respectfully. “Thank you for sharing this with us. It’s helpful.”
Aura mirrored the bow, her expression softening into something warmer. “May the Goddess guide you in your quest.”
The fountain’s water and flame show concluded with a grand finale—a synchronized eruption of fire and water that sent a warm spray of mist into the air. Uris clapped enthusiastically, his laugh echoing through the open space. Aura chuckled, her face lighting up briefly as she watched her son.
“Wait,” Aura said suddenly, her hand rising as if to pluck the thought from the air. “I just remembered something odd. The first time I noticed Uris acting like this, he came home with a new hat. I asked him where he got it, and he said he didn’t remember.”
Haley nodded, her expression calm but intent. “That’s worth noting. Thank you.”
Uris ran up to his mother, his laughter bright against the quiet murmur of the district. Together, they walked away from the fountain, disappearing into the throng of visitors. Haley and Robin lingered by the water’s edge, the angelic statues watching over them as flames and water danced in the endless artificial night.
Robin turned to Haley. “What’s next?”
Haley pulled out her music player with a practiced motion and asked, “Where should we go next?” She pressed shuffle. “It says, ‘Put Your Records On.’”
Robin paused for a second. “What does it mean by ‘record?’ Like, historical data?”
Haley shrugged, her lips twitching into a half-smile. “Honestly, some of these songs aren’t even from our solar system. They don’t always make sense.” She tapped the networker hanging around her neck, its design a playful pair of eighth notes in glowing violet. “Hey, networker. What’s considered a ‘record,’ besides information?”
The device projected a spinning holographic sphere of rainbow light, which morphed into a black vinyl disc. Beside the spinning image, a text box appeared.
“This is the closest match based on your inquiry,” the networker replied. “On Earth, records are round discs used to store music.”
Haley swiped the screen away and grabbed Robin’s hand, pulling her toward a nearby information kiosk—a life-sized holographic projection of the district’s founder. According to Haley’s preliminary research, Iris Ironglass had built the community seemingly overnight, though Iris herself claimed the project had been years in the making. The virtual figure sparkled like stardust, her two-piece white dress shimmering with a soft, almost living glow.
“Wow,” Robin whispered, admiring the intricate folds of the dress as they shifted with Iris’ graceful movements. “That outfit is stunning. It looks so smooth, like real silk.”
Haley brushed her fingers along Robin’s arm, a playful grin spreading across her face. “You’d look amazing in something like that.”
Robin’s cheeks flushed lavender. “Please. Leggings and sweaters are more my speed.”
Haley beamed at her before turning her attention back to the kiosk. “Excuse me, could you tell us where we might find some music?”
“The Star Light District has sixteen music venues,” the virtual Iris replied, her voice calm and melodic.
Haley scratched at the short rainbow-colored strands of her hair. “Hmm. Do any of them play Earth records?”
“There is one venue—Celebration—specializing in records from Earth.”
“That’s the one!” Iris said with a slight bow. “Send the directions to my networker, please.”
“Directions sent,” Iris said with a slight bow. “Thank you for visiting the Start Light District.”
Haley led the way, her attention fixed on her networker’s glowing map as she guided them down a narrow corridor. Robin, however, couldn’t tear her eyes away from the towering statues that lined the passage. Their features were unnervingly detailed—eyes that seemed to follow them, muscles frozen in mid-movement, and faces caught in expressions too lifelike for comfort. Robin’s gaze shifted to a few static posters of Iris, advertising the district’s upcoming school, and though the sight offered a small comfort, it did little to ease her growing unease.
“These statues are… creepy,” Robin muttered, moving closer to Haley.
“At least they’re too tall to be real people,” Haley replied without looking up.
Robin stopped mid-step, her eyes widening. “Real people?”
“Yeah.” Haley shrugged. “I read this protector report once about a gorgon who turned people into stone for some kind of… artistic statement.”
Robin’s face twisted with a mix of horror and fascination. “I’m never looking at statues the same way again.”
The corridor opened into a bustling hub of shops and apartments, bathed in vivid purple light. Unlike the golden hues of the previous area, this section pulsed with youthful energy. Haley’s eyes darted across the space, landing on a wooden sign between a salon called Sister Golden Hair and a hoverboard shop named Landslide. The lettering on the sign read Celebration.
“There it is!” Haley declared, her voice brimming with excitement. “Let’s go.”
Children of various species darted across the playground, their laughter and shrieks inspiring smiles for anyone who passed. Some climbed over replica spaceships, their reflective surfaces glinting under the lights, while others hammered out discordant tunes on neon flower-shaped musical lights. A group played an energetic game of tag, their movements a blur of colorful clothing and fluttering limbs.
As Haley and Robin walked through the playground, Haley couldn’t resist hopping onto a series of light-up tiles embedded in the ground. Each step triggered a burst of color and a musical note, the sequence creating a whimsical melody that brought a wide grin to her face.
Robin walked beside her, shaking her head but unable to suppress a small smile. “Should we maybe keep an eye on these kids?” she asked, her voice edged with concern.
Still skipping across the tiles, Haley glanced at her music player and shrugged. “The answer says Left Alone,” she replied, tapping the screen for emphasis. “So, steady the course!”
Robin sighed but let the matter drop as they reached their destination.
Stepping into Celebration felt like slipping into a distant past from another world. The venue’s wooden walls, furniture, and tables exuded a rustic charm, while soft fire-glow lights bathed the room in a warm, amber hue. This blend of old-world materials and modern lighting created a cozy, inviting atmosphere, despite the anachronistic mix. In one corner, two couples chatted over drinks while their children huddled together, absorbed in games on their networkers.
Haley and Robin slid onto stools at the bar. Haley ran her fingertips over the polished wood of the countertop. “Smooth,” she murmured, admiring the craftsmanship. Her gaze shifted upward, locking onto a device perched on a nearby shelf. “Excuse me,” she called to the bartender. “Is that a record player?”
The tutelagion mixologist, a slender figure with iridescent scales shimmering like liquid opals, finished squeezing a lime into a glass. They handed the drink to a waiting customer before turning to Haley. “Yes, it is,” they said, their voice melodic. “Right now, it’s playing ‘Last Friday Night’ by Katy Perry. Though, if I’m being honest, I have no idea what she’s singing about. What’s a Friday, and why is it special?” They chuckled, their lips curling into a playful smile. “Still, I can’t help but love collecting records from Earth. Even though they’re insanely expensive.”
They leaned forward slightly. “Anyway, what can I get you two? Drinks? Food?”
Haley leaned in as well, lowering her voice. “Actually, I was hoping for information. Aspen, right?” She glanced at their name tag for confirmation. When the mixologist nodded, she continued, “What do you know about the missing memories of children here in the Star Light District?”
Aspen’s shimmering brows lifted slightly. “I used to think it was just a silly rumor,” they admitted. “But lately, a few parents have mentioned it—casually, like it’s no big deal. No one seems panicked, just mildly annoyed. Why do you ask?”
Haley’s expression grew serious. “I think there’s something bigger going on,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I just haven’t figured out what yet. Does the phrase ‘Cowboys Don’t Cry’ mean anything to you?”
Before Haley ventured to the Star Light District, she directly asked her music player who was responsible for the missing memories. The device responded with the song title, “Cowboys Don’t Cry.” She nearly threw her device across her home in frustration from the cryptic answer. She asked for motivation and got the answer, “Mad World.”
Aspen chuckled, leaning back against the bar. “Funny you mention that. Last week, Iris Ironglass stopped by for one of our Bloody Orangeritas. While she was here, there was this kid—a human boy. He scraped his knee and started bawling like the world was ending. Iris walked right over, kneeled by him, and kissed his wound. Then she pulled out this strange little hat from her purse, plopped it on his head, and said, ‘Cowboys don’t cry.’ Just like that, the kid calmed down.”
Robin clasped her hands together. “That’s… kind of sweet, actually.”
Aspen nodded. “Iris is a lot more approachable than people think. Oh, and speaking of that kid…” They gestured toward the window. “He’s still wearing that hat.”
Haley and Robin turned to see the boy darting past the window, his tan cowboy hat perched atop his head. The wide brim curved downward, casting a shadow over his face, while the crown was slightly indented, creating a rounded, pinch-like shape. As he moved, the hat bobbed with each step, its stiff fabric making a soft rustling sound. Without hesitation, Haley stood. “Thanks for the tip, Aspen. We need to go.”
Aspen gave a small wave. “Enjoy the day—and try our Bloody Orangerita next time.”
Haley and Robin followed the boy’s trail down the corridor. His small frame darted between towering statues, his footsteps echoing softly against the stone walls. Then, without warning, he vanished.
Haley and Robin slowed to a stop, scanning the area. Robin frowned. “Where did he go?”
Haley pointed to a large grate nestled behind one of the statues. The metal lifted up with a faint creak as she peered into the shaft, her face partially illuminated by the glow automatically activated from her networker to provide light. “Looks big enough for us to crawl through,” she announced, already beginning to climb inside.
Robin’s jaw dropped. “Wait. You’re serious?”
“If kids are crawling through here,” Haley replied, her voice echoing slightly, “then it’s got to be safe.”
Robin groaned, reluctantly dropping to her hands and knees. “I hate that you’re probably right.”
Haley lifted up the grate, and the two crawled thirty feet through the narrow ventilation shaft before reaching the end to what appeared to be a construction zone. She squinted against the sudden brightness of industrial lights overhead, taking in the bustling scene before them. Dozens of children, all wearing an assortment of hats, worked with an unsettling level of focus and precision. Some hauled materials, others hammered nails or measured planks, and a few even directed others, gesturing like seasoned foremen. They moved with the skill and efficiency of trained adults.
Haley and Robin ducked behind a stack of wooden boards. Recalling the clues, she checked her networker.
Haley chuckled. “Ah-ha! No signal. Completely blocked.”
Robin checked hers. “Well, I guess we know why no one’s been able to track the kids.”
Before they could process the strange scene further, the grate behind them slammed open. The sudden metallic clang echoed through the space, making both of them jump. Heart pounding, Haley turned around just as a small figure emerged from the vent.
Uris climbed out, his movements oddly stiff, and stood upright. He wore a black top hat, its edges casting a shadow over his young face. His eyes, however, were distant—unnervingly blank.
“Uris?” Haley called softly, her voice tinged with disbelief. “What are you doing here?”
She reached for the hat perched atop his head, but as she pulled it off, her stomach flipped. A pair of shadowy, ethereal hands emerged from inside the hat, clawing at the air before latching onto Uris’ head and yanking themselves—and the hat—back into place.
Haley stumbled back, releasing her grip. “What was that?”
Uris blinked slowly and spoke, his voice layered with an unsettling echo, as though two people were speaking in unison. “You should leave.”
Haley wasn’t having it. She grabbed Uris by the shoulders, spinning him around to face her. “Not until I get some answers. Who are you? And what have you done to Uris?”
“My identity was forgotten long ago,” the voice replied, calm and steady. “But I mean no harm to this child.”
Haley’s jaw clenched, her grip tightening. “Then why are you possessing him?”
“We are repenting,” the voice said. “In life, we made mistakes. In death, we were consigned to the Underworld. But one day, we found ourselves rising—drawn upward, sticking into these hats crafted at Ironglass’ boutique. When we shared our stories, she proposed this arrangement. We wronged others in life, and this is our penance—constructing a world better than the one we left.”
Robin placed a soft hand on Haley’s shoulder. “This feels like a wild ethics debate waiting to happen.”
Haley hesitated, her grip loosening. “Okay, but why children? Why not possess adults?”
A new voice, smooth and confident, cut through the conversation. “Because children’s innate sense of innocence and good keeps the spirits in check.”
Haley and Robin spun around to see Iris Ironglass approaching. She towered over them, her presence as commanding as ever. Though the vampire wasn’t wearing her signature dress, her cropped white hoodie and black leggings exuded effortless elegance, her every movement radiating poise.
“The children are perfectly safe,” Iris said, her tone matter-of-fact. “And we make sure it stays that way.” She gestured toward a nearby group of elders supervising the bustling construction zone. “They are under constant watch.”
One of the elders joined Iris, her presence serene yet resolute. The elder ghaukvoi had vibrant teal skin and long, silver-streaked hair cascading in loose waves. Her robes shimmered like liquid sapphire under the industrial lights, and her voice carried an almost musical cadence. “Hello, there. I am Saeris,” she said with a respectful incline of her head. “You must be the two young ladies investigating the missing memories of the children. Haley and Robin, right?”
Haley blinked, her breath hitching as her heart skipped a beat. “Yeah,” she said, her voice faltering slightly. “How… how did you know?”
Iris chuckled, the sound light but laced with authority. “Word travels. Plus, I have an ID scanner installed in the vent and knew we needed to have a chat.”
Haley stepped forward. “Okay, so let me get this straight. You have spirits controlling the bodies of children to build…”
“A school,” Iris interjected smoothly, gesturing toward the construction ahead. “Would you like a tour?”
Haley and Robin nodded. Iris and Saeris led them toward the halfway finished building.
“Okay, so if you’re just building a school, then why keep the parents in the dark?” Haley asked. “Don’t they have a right to know what’s happening to their kids?”
Iris met Haley’s gaze evenly, her expression calm but unyielding. “Because some truths are too difficult to explain without context. If we told the parents everything upfront—spirits, possession, penance—it would sound like a nightmare. Fear would blind them to the benefits of what we’re building here.”
“That does make sense,” Robin said.
“We’re not doing this to take advantage of anyone,” Saeris said. “The children are safe, the spirits find peace, and the community grows stronger. This isn’t secrecy for secrecy’s sake. It’s protection—of everyone involved.”
Haley furrowed her brow, suspicion still gnawing at her. “But isn’t it the parents’ right to decide for their kids?”
“We were the ones who put out that story about the missing memories as a way for concerned parents to connect with us,” Saeris said. “If an issue arrises, we remove the hat from the child.”
Iris paused, a flicker of vulnerability crossing her features. “Adults don’t mix well with these spirits. It always ends… badly.”
Saeris interrupted with a single loud laugh. “That’s one way of putting it. When I tried a hat, I got sick from eating too much.”
Iris continued. “But with children, the process works. As the spirits help build, they grow lighter. Eventually, they’ll move on. I know it’s a mad world out there, but this… this is progress.”
Haley’s shoulders sagged as she exhaled a long breath, frustration and exhaustion mixing in her expression. Her hand instinctively reached for her music player. She whispered to the device, “Should we trust her?” and pressed the shuffle button. The device displayed the song title: “You’ve Got a Friend.”
Haley glanced at Robin, who gave her a small, reassuring nod. Then she turned back to Iris. “Fine. But if anything changes, I’ll be back.”
Saeris inclined her head once more, her serene smile unwavering. “You are welcome to return at any time, child. May the Goddess guide your steps.”
Iris smiled, her confidence as unshakable as ever. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
Haley and Robin crawled back through the hidden tunnel, leaving the construction site behind. Emerging into the quiet corridor, the faint hum of the ventilation system greeted them like an old friend. Haley dusted herself off and turned to inspect the grate.
“Well, that was… something,” she muttered, her voice tinged with lingering uncertainty.
Robin knelt to close the grate, giving her a sidelong glance. “You know, for what it’s worth, I think those kids are going to be okay.”
Haley gave a small, reluctant nod. “I think so, too. Iris felt genuine. But if not… we’ll be back.”
As they walked down the corridor, the implications of their discovery still loomed over them, but the motivations and end goal offered a reassured hope for the community. Robin broke the silence, steering their thoughts toward something tangible.
“So, with that mystery solved and the solstice coming soon, how about we run away somewhere?” Robin suggested with a grin. “I’ve been researching a couple of places.”
Haley reached for Robin’s hand, clasping it gently as they continued toward the elevator. A faint smile crossed Haley’s face. “Yeah, let’s take a trip.”
As the grate clanged shut behind Haley and Robin, the soft hum of machinery filled the construction zone once more. Saeris’ melodic laugh broke through the ambient noise as she watched the pair retreat through the tunnel. Her teal skin shimmered under the industrial lights as she shook her head with quiet amusement.
“What’s so funny?” Iris asked, folding her arms across her chest. Her sharp tone masked the flicker of curiosity in her crimson eyes.
Saeris returned her gaze to the project before them, her voice carrying a serene yet knowing lilt. “I thought for a moment you were going to tell them what happened to you on the day of the earthquake.”
Iris stiffened, her jaw tightening as the weight of those words pressed against her. She forced a scoff, brushing invisible dust from her white hoodie. “Some truths are hard to explain without context,” she quoted herself in her measured and deliberate tone.
Saeris hummed, glancing at the vampire out of the corner of her eye. “Yes, but some truths linger, don’t they? They have a way of gnawing at us, waiting to be spoken.”
Iris’s fingers curled against her arms, the nails digging lightly into the fabric. Her eyes darted toward the now-sealed grate, as if she could still see Haley and Robin’s retreating forms. A stitch of unease flickered in her chest, as if she was reliving the moment again of the young glowing woman on the beach screaming in pain.
She exhaled slowly, her voice softening as she spoke. “However,” she said, almost to herself, “I can’t shake the feeling that something happened to Haley that day, too.”
Saeris tilted her head, her silver-streaked hair cascading over her shoulder like liquid moonlight. “What makes you think so?”
Iris frowned, her crimson eyes narrowing in thought. “It’s not just her determination, though that’s part of it. It’s the way she carries herself—like someone who’s seen what others can’t comprehend.”
Saeris’s lips curved into a faint smile, her expression both kind and enigmatic. “Perhaps you see a reflection of yourself in her.”
Iris’s gaze snapped to Saeris, her expression hardening, but she didn’t refute the statement. Instead, she turned toward the half-finished school, the sound of hammers and saws filling the air. “Maybe,” she admitted after a long pause. “Or maybe it’s something else. Either way, we’ll find out eventually.”
Saeris stepped closer, her presence calm yet unyielding. “The Goddess has a way of intertwining paths for a reason. If Haley and Robin are meant to uncover more, they will.”
Iris nodded absently, her thoughts still distant. “I just hope,” she said, almost to herself, “that when the time comes, they’ll make the right choice.”
For this short story, I knew I wanted to write another mystery with The Sounds. The concept of children missing their memories was inspired by the writing prompt: “Mysteriously, children are starting to lose memories. You’re a detective assigned to this case, and you just found out what is causing them to forget.”
As with past stories featuring The Sounds, I asked people to submit songs for me to incorporate into the story. Some of the songs were used as messages given from the music player while others were worked in other ways. The songs were: Cowboys Don’t Cry by Oliver Tree, Put Your Records On by Ritt Momney, Mad World by Tears for Fears, Left Alone by Fiona Apple, Last Friday Night by Katy Perry, Sister Golden Hair by America, Landslide by Stevie Nicks, You’ve Got a Friend by James Taylor, Celebration by Kool & the Gang, and Guided By Angels by Amyl and The Sniffers.
Thanks to Mikey Marchan for the story artwork!
Thank you for reading! Check out the next story in the series over on The Sounds webpage.
