The Queen of the Underverse - Chapter 5
- Donovan Evans-Foto Dono
- 2 days ago
- 11 min read
Notes From Foto Dono: Hello all, and welcome to Chapter 5. Today is my Birthday, so I'm celebrating by posting two chapters. I'm writing this a few days before they're posted, and I thought I'd bring everyone up to speed on the book's official status.
I've begun Chapter 18, and the book now includes three interludes, an Intro, and an Epilogue. I've nine more chapters to plot out officially and another interlude with another possible epilogue.
The word count stands at the moment at 64,967, but you, dear reader, are at 17,370. These words have made it the cut. So far. That'll include the two posts today and tomorrow's regular post. After all, I have plenty of free time. 🤦♂️
I must be mad.
My poor friend Rebecca is going through a lot. I want to think she is my friend. She might feel differently if she found out I wrote her story. 😔
She still swears a lot; she is cold, alone, and naked in an alien world. You'd be grumpy too.
Previously on The Queen of the Underverse…
Queen Lyra, dying and alone in the Garden of Nowhere, knocks on a mysterious Doorwhere—only for it to finally open. Meanwhile, Commander Rebecca Lopez, orbiting Earth on her last mission before retirement, is forced into a daring EVA rescue when her best friend Sarah's suit is breached. The rescue succeeds, but Rebecca is cast adrift in space until she finds herself face to face with an impossible door floating in orbit. Stepping through, she enters a surreal new realm—where the Queen awaits her, dying, and something darker waits behind the next door. Rescued by the Gnomes, she's been brought to the Queen's Residence.
Ye saga continues...
Chapter 5 - It's Showtime
Rebecca was dreaming. Or so she thought.
“Floating. ISS again?” she murmured. But her hands found resistance—sheets, a mattress.
“Mattress?” she said, confused. “Then why am I floating?”
She wiggled her toes. They brushed against fabric. “Wait—naked?”
Her eyes snapped open.
Bad idea. The world tilted. Nausea punched her stomach.
“Oh God—” she groaned.
“Easy, Miss. Bucket incoming!” a chipper voice announced. Cold metal pressed into her hands. She puked instantly.
“Lovely,” the voice said, not unkindly. “I’ve seen worse.”
“Surviving the Dente Nocturn? That’s… impressive,” the voice added. “Most don’t.”
Rebecca curled inward. Her head throbbed, vision swimming. The speaker was human-shaped. Probably female.
“Where…?” she managed. Then puked again.
“Fuck me. What’s happening?” she moaned. “Feels like my organs are breakdancing.”
“Ah, she speaks!” the woman said brightly. “Not sure if I’ve got the right answers—depends if you’re asking the right questions.”
A pause. Then: “Still shivering. Blanket it is.”
Drawer clatter.
“Let me catch you up. You got smacked around by the Dente Nocturn—real nasty business. The Queen intervened. Gave you a bit of her essence.”
More rummaging. “Didn’t know you had a Key. That caused some sparks. Ah—found it!”
A red blanket landed around Rebecca’s shoulders. Warmth bloomed through her like medicine.
“The Queen purged the worst of it,” the woman added. “But your system’s still rebooting. Eyes will come back soon.”
The woman’s fingers were cold. Her skin was unnaturally white, almost paper-pale.
“So… the toothy black horror and the door?” Rebecca asked, her voice hoarse. “That was real?”
“As real as my radiant ass, Missy,” the woman replied. “That was the Dente Nocturn. Nasty bit of unfinished nightmare. Here is some water. Drink it slowly." She handed Rebecca a cold cup of water.
Rebecca tried to blink. Her eyelids twitched. “Who the hell are you?” she rasped. Rebecca pulled the cloak around her to bury herself in the warmth.
"Oh, sorry. I don't have a name, just a designation. I'm Queen's Attendant #12. However, Queen Lyra has been calling me Chalky lately, so I guess you can call me that."
“Ok, Chalky, so why am I naked?” The warmth was spreading through her now. Much better.
“Um. It’s kind of embarrassing.” She paused. “You see, when people, and when I say people, I mean ya know, organics, do near-death stuff, their bodies get kinda messy. Let’s say the Queen’s Residence favored burning it all, but I talked it out of it. So right now it’s in the Kitchen getting a proper cleaning.”
“What the fuck!” The Photo!
“Don’t worry. The Kitchen knows what it's doing. At least it still should.”
“Oh my god.” Rebecca said, “Where the fuck am I? And how the hell am I going to get home?”
“Well, you’re in the Queen’s Residence. I’ve no idea how you’re getting home yet, Dorthy.”
"My name isn't Dorthy. It's Rebecca Lopez. I'm an astronaut from Earth. There was an accident, and I fell into that stupid goddamn door," Rebecca said, rubbing her eyes, willing them to focus. She shivered and pulled the blanket tighter.
“Hey, sorry, Rebecca, the Queen called you Dorthy, so I just assumed it was your name. She’s got a bad habit of giving people nicknames. She used to call me Medusa. Can you believe that?” She started laughing. “You shouldn’t pull on the firecloak too hard. It’s ticklish and it likes to tickle back.”
Rebecca froze. “Did you say tickle back?”
And then it did. She screamed.
Rebecca threw the blurry red blanket across the room. Rebecca could feel the anger boiling up inside her.
"Oh Lyra, look what you did! You scared it! It's ok. Did that Earth-woman scare you?" She picked up the firecloak, beginning to fold and pet it. "Yes, I know. She doesn't understand. I'll put you back," she said.
She could hear the drawer clatter.
“I am sick of this,” Rebecca said. “I need answers. What is this place? Is it like Narnia? Some fantasy world where I must slay dragons or demons to go home? I’m an astronaut; I can do crazy stuff, but this is fucked up. I need to go home—to my family, friends, and life. I can’t miss Paul’s birthday! Sarah and I need to get him a present!” She rubbed her eyes and screamed, “And I need my eyes to work!”
“Well now…” She sounded hurt.
Rebecca took a deep breath, then another, and then one more.
"Thank you again, Chalky, for taking care of me. Sorry about the outburst." Rebecca closed her eyes and mentally counted to ten to stop screaming. "Any chance you could find me some Earth clothes, like jeans, a t-shirt, a sweater, and some sneakers. Earth women's underwear and socks would be awesome."
Chalky said, “There might be some left from the wardrobe department. I’m not sure if we have your size.” She stood up and got closer to her. “Look, her Majesty said not to leave you alone. Said you’d be scared, frightened, and all that. She said I should give you hugs and cuddles if needed.” She reached out and wrapped her arms around the shocked Rebecca. She patted her back and said, “You’re really safe here.”
Rebecca’s eyes still weren’t functioning properly, but her sense of touch and smell remained. The arms holding her were cold and hard, including the woman’s hair, skin, and everything else. She carried the scent of a quarry she had visited during training.
"Look, it won't take long, 15 minutes tops. Don't tell her Majesty I left you alone, please." Chalky said, walking to the door and out of the room. She could hear her clackity-clack footsteps fading away.
“What the fuck.” Rebecca said to what she hoped was an empty room. She began to shiver again as the warmth she had gained from the firecloak had finally left her.
Rebecca wrapped the sheet around herself and tried to piece together some semblance of sanity. So far, she’d been reacting to things thrown at her. She shivered uncontrollably. Fuck. It's cold in here.
She got up and strolled to the blurry dresser thing. I wonder if that's part of my body’s reaction to whatever that thing, the Dente Nocturn, was. She opened each drawer, looking for the firecloak, and found it in the third drawer. At least, she hoped it was. It was red. Everything was still just a blur of shapes and colors.
"Ok. What did she call you? Firecloak?" Rebecca took a deep breath. I can't believe I'm about to do this. She reached out to the firecloak, and it moved away from her. She reached out again, and it moved again. She could feel her body shivering more in the cold of the room. She thought about how Mark would solve this in one of his stories.
Rebecca sighed and, through chattering teeth, said, "I'm very sorry for my actions. It wasn’t nice. I don't know if you can understand me, but I hope you forgive me. I can't stop shivering in this blasted room. So I'd like your help, please." The firecloak moved further from her.
"Is there something I can do to convince you I'm sorry? I would do anything to be warm right now. So, can we make a deal to be friends?" The firecloak stopped moving away and edged closer to her.
Rebecca got excited, "Yes, I'd like to be your friend. You can be my friend, I'll be yours. I'll even wash and mend you afterwards if you keep me warm. It'll be simpatico." With every word Rebecca said, the firecloak moved closer, and she could feel the warmth reaching her. "It'll be a fantastic partnership for you and me. What do you say?"
The firecloak wrapped itself around her hand and pulled itself over her body. "I take it this is yes?" The firecloak seemed much larger than before; she thought as it draped across her. Rebecca stood as warmth surged through her. She closed her eyes. She let the bed sheet fall to the ground.
She finally stopped shivering, with the pain in her head and nausea gone. The firecloak was so lightweight that she barely felt it. She opened her eyes and realized her vision was clear—everything was sharp and no longer blurry. As she scanned the room, she noticed glowing lines and circles on her hands. These patterns shimmered red, flowing upward along her arms, across her chest, her entire body, and down her legs—covering her completely. She looked for a mirror but found none; instead, she gazed out the window and saw the same glowing red designs on her face. It looked like a glowing child had scribbled on her with starlight and purpose.
She closed her eyes, thinking, What the hell? Is this the firecloak? She felt something move on her hand. Oh god, don't. Don't look! Don't look!
Rebecca looked.
Friend.
The word Friend glowed across the back of her hand. “Firecloak?”
She felt the lines and circles move on her right arm, and another message appeared there: Keep Friend Warm Safe.
Then another message appeared on her left arm: You Keep Me Safe.
The patterns moved again across her body and glowed, and she swore they were purring. The word friend shifted into the shape of a heart across her chest.
The bedroom door swung open, and Chalky entered, carrying a cardboard box labeled “Donations” on the side. Rebecca finally got a good look at Chalky and understood why she felt cold and smelled like a quarry. Chalky, Queen's Attendant #12, was made of marble, including her hair, black eyes, and wearing a maid’s outfit. Right now, it all seemed to wear a look of shock.
Chalky stared. “Oh, her Majesty is going to pile me into dust.”
Queen Lyra sat in her chambers, illuminated only by the light from the balcony, which highlighted her pale blue skin and copper-red hair. While some might refer to it as a throne room, it was simply a room with a balcony that offered a beautiful view of the pink sunset. Besides, she liked the chair—it was incredibly comfortable. Today was going to be her last sunset.
I thought I would at least have a quiet day on my final day, she mused, turning a key over in her pale blue hands. The woman, this little Dorthy, had a key.
She reached into her pockets and pulled out a ring that emitted a faint blue glow. "There might be a way out yet," she muttered softly, her ruby-red eyes fixed on the ring.
True, she's human, but so was the first Queen, long ago. The first Queen had years and years of training, but this one... I’m tossing her into the deep end, and it will be either sink or swim. It had been a long time since the Queen had cried, and she wept for her little Dorthy.
She could hear the voices of the previous queens, the Protectors, the Phoenix Shields, and the countless others who had come before her over the millennia. They were calling out to her, urging her to join them. "Soon," she said. "The sun hasn't set yet."
She could feel the Underverse reaching out to her, whispering its farewells and cautions about the plan she was forming. The Underverse was concerned that she might do something they would both regret.
She reassured it, “No, she will have a choice—just like I did, like all of us have throughout the eons.”
The Underverse remained unsettled, sensing manipulation in her words. “Yes, in a way. But she will still be able to make her choices freely. And besides, I’m dying, and you are also near the end.”
The Underverse bristled in her mind, still disapproving of the plan. “Maybe she’ll surprise us and come up with a third option,” she suggested.
The Underverse responded with the metaphysical equivalent of an eye roll. “No, probably not. Poor little Dorthy,” she said, wiping another tear from her eye.
The Queen held the key and the ring in her hands, grappling with the weight of their significance. The sun streamed through the balcony window, casting a warm glow. She felt the Underverse give her one final, gentle mental pat on the head before it disconnected.
“It’s show time.” She summoned Chalky to bring Rebecca, her little Dorthy.
The firecloak adjusted its patterns on Rebecca's shoulders, suddenly alert.
The bedroom door creaked as Chalky leaned in, her eyes wide with curiosity.
Rebecca stared at her reflection in the mirror Chalky had found.
Finally, Rebecca was dressed in normal clothes. At least they weren't alive or anything strange like that. Chalky had found her a pair of sneakers that didn't smell, along with socks and a well-fitting bra. The underwear, however, itched. She wore something that resembled jeans, although they were way too loose except around the waist. They felt like wearing floppy bell-bottoms. The jeans were emerald green and sparkled.
The shirt was comfortable, but the writing on it was in a language Rebecca had never seen before. Chalky admitted shyly that she couldn't read it either. According to her, the shirt was also periwinkle.
The firecloak embedded on her skin was purring. Rebecca shook her head, trying to dismiss her nerves.
It took a few moments after Chalky entered with a box of old clothes for Rebecca to calm down once she realized the firecloak wasn't burning her.
Now calmer, Rebecca finally took a good look at Chalky—she appeared roughly the same age. Her shoulder-length hair was jet-black with streaks of marbling, and she had laugh lines around her eyes and mouth. Her eyes, however, were maddening—completely black with contrasting marbling speckles that lacked any catchlight. Her pale skin was not pure white, but featured marbling across all exposed areas, except for her neck, where it stopped, as her face was free of it. Her maid’s outfit was typical Earth-style French maid.
"She's ready to see you now," Chalky whispered.
Rebecca sighed. "Of course she is."
Taking a deep breath, Rebecca glanced around—there was no escape route, no map, just a door leading to whatever awaited her on the other side.
––To be continued
Tune in Next on The Queen of the Underverse…
An unreliable book recounts the birth of everything—and possibly your balloon kink.
Meanwhile, Rebecca receives a dying queen’s final words, a royal ring, and a deeply unwanted sidekick named Chalky. She’s got a mission, a key, and no patience left for cosmic metaphors.
The next 'episode' is out now, and tomorrow another one drops, on July 15th. Bring cake. It's my Birthday! Things are about to get strange(r).
Don't miss it!
© 2025 Donnavon Evans
July 14, 2025
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