Book Review: Midnight on Beacon Street by Emily Ruth Verona
★★★✩✩
I was caught by the cover so, I picked it up read the blurb and said why not? I checked it out from the library and sat to read.
It's a good and quick read. Writing is clear and creates a vivid visual but the non linear pacing, multiple POVs, and rather slow pacing hurt this book. The non linear pacing being the biggest problem as it's centered on this one particular Friday night but it cuts from let's 6pm for a chapter and then next chapter is 10 years previously, followed by back to the current Friday so many minutes before midnight from another character's POV causing me to flip back n forth to figure out who was who and what happened again.
The books felt more about the internal struggle of someone with strong anxiety and panic attacks, we the reader never know the why or how it happened since it's never mentioned, but it was more of a focus than any supposed horror or thriller elements that the cover and blurb portrayed and so while I for the most part enjoyed this one, the non linear pacing threw me off.
Drowning in grief after losing Cas to the Empty, a hunt leads Dean to a well-meaning but reckless young witch who has created an ‘umboð’ — a supernaturally animated effigy that takes on the form and memories of a person who has recently passed. Though he and Sam convince the witch to nullify the spell that she’s woven, Dean finds himself weak against the temptation of using the same magic to see Cas one last time.
But when the umboð he creates takes its first breath, opening familiar blue eyes that lock with Dean’s just as earnestly as those he’s missed, Dean can’t bring himself to end it after just one conversation.
Meanwhile, newly rescued from the Empty, Castiel works to rebuild the afterlife with Jack. But the work of divine creation is draining him in ways he did not expect, and leaving him to question whether he made the right choice in returning to Heaven despite his heart pulling him back to Earth.
Keep reading for a sneak preview!
Leaving the Empty feels like squeezing himself through a quarter-inch pipe. Unbearable pressure on all sides. Crushing. Suffocating.
And then—
Light.
At first, it’s just another void. A glowing, white version of the same place they’d been in before, endless and still. But then Castiel’s many eyes adjust, and he sees it for what it is.
They’re not in Heaven. They’re just outside, suspended in the veil that separates it from Earth and eases the transition of newly untethered souls from one plane to another.
It’s not a physical space, and contrary to the beliefs of some on Earth there is no particular gate between here and Heaven, but that’s only because the gate is everywhere. Once a soul is ready, the veil parts around them like a gossamer curtain, and they find themselves in whichever version of paradise has been awaiting them.
For many, it’s always been some deeply treasured memory, but just as often, it’s rest.
Castiel is surprised that Jack has brought him here instead of directly into the heart of Heaven. Jack notices. Or perhaps he just knows, now that he’s God.
Perhaps Castiel will never again have a thought that isn’t overheard by this boy he’s tried so hard to raise.
“I thought you might want to visit Sam and Dean first,” Jack explains. “Before we begin.”
Something swoops in Castiel’s chest at the suggestion, but he shakes his head, the memory of Jack’s words to the Winchesters fresh in his mind.
“You told them you wouldn’t interfere.”
“It’s not really interfering to bring you back to Earth,” Jack argues.
Castiel raises his brow.
“Bringing me back from the dead—”
“You weren’t even dead, though! You were just… away for a while. It’s basically the same as if you were stuck on an island and I sent you a boat.”
“That is definitionally interfering,” Castiel tells him.
“Well. Maybe. But I still think it’s okay,” Jack says, then squints. Tilts his head to the side. Castiel feels like he’s looking into a mirror. “Wait. Do you not want to go back?”
“That’s… complicated.”
It’s not really. It’s difficult, yes, but it’s not complicated. It’s actually incredibly simple: Castiel suspects that the manner of his leaving may have hurt Dean too profoundly for a mere visit to do anything but cause him more pain.
If he were returning for good, he might feel otherwise. If he were returning for good, he could perhaps see a chance of repairing some of the damage he’s done.
But to return only to leave again?
No. That would be selfish. Cruel. As much as he wishes things were different, it’s better if he stays in Heaven where he can’t do any more harm. It has to be.
And if he stays in Heaven, he’ll still see Dean again. Eventually.
It’ll just be a long, long time from now, when Dean’s had time to move past what Castiel told him. When he’s had time to understand it. When he’s found someone to love. When he’s lived out the rest of his years happy and fulfilled.
Then, Castiel will be waiting to greet him in the afterlife, and enough years will have passed that Dean’s pain will have faded. A bruise long-healed.
The distance of all the years between them will soften the edges of their last parting, and he’ll meet Castiel as an old friend. A brother in arms.
Prompt: Warm drinks around a campfire + Time Travel
My whole body shudders as I run through the thick forest. There are no signs of life other than the occasional screams in the distance. Ever so often, when I try to catch my breath, I can hear someone stepping closer and closer and closer.
I could see something flickering in between the wall of trees. Forcing my body to move towards hope, I stumble desperately.
The flickering, a dimming firepit, is still warm. There are two wooden makeshift seats and a smaller stool with two cups of steaming liquid. Even before considering the dangers, I fall into the seat and gulp down the cup. A hit of spice and sweetness slips down my throat, something familiar and medicinal. For the moment by the fire, I feel like I can catch my breath.
As I reach out for the other cup, a light cough came from someone behind me.
Turning, I see a tall figure, shrouded in darkness and barely visible by the fire.
“I think that’s mine, young one.” Their voice is husky, almost as if they hadn’t spoken in a long time. “There is more underneath.”
Cautiously, I look under the stool – table – to find a thermos waiting for me. Refilling my cup, I greedily gulp down the last of the warm liquid.
The figure didn’t come closer, only casually watching me from the shadows.
“You’ve had a long run. This is your only respite before it all starts all over again. I’m sure you’ve failed before and I’m sure you have done awful things to get here. But I hope you still chose to continue.” Their words were ominous but the warmth from the fire and drink created a soft buzz in my mind. “There is still so much you have to do. Even when you think you can’t take it any more.”
In the distance, another scream ripped through the peaceful night. Goosebumps ran up my spine as I licked the cup clean. The figure stepped closer to the light and for a moment, I could have sworn I saw some sense of familiarity in their eyes.
Pulling myself away from the safe spot, I give the figure one last smile as thanks before I enter the forest once more. I run like my life depends on it. The buzz of warmth fades as quickly as it came.
The figure still barely visible, even in the flicker of the firepit, watches their younger self run back into hell. Their body withers slowly, exhaustion and weariness exposing them to the force of nature. Feet raw and numb, body worn and barely recognizable. They remembered this moment of hope. They could only hope that they would finally succeed. They fill the abandoned cup once more, setting everything up neatly.
From behind them, a demonic voice speaks harsh yet overjoyed, “I found you again.” then everything begins again as a scream erupts from their mouth as their body gets dragged away from hope.
Thinking again about that zombie ant fungus fic. this thing is going to rotate around my head until I get it out god fucking damnit.
I think the thing about it is that Yugi is never Present and IN the body while Yami has control. In my mind at least. There’s some crucial difference between flitting from the soul room to over the shoulder and back again and being held within your own flesh (within (yami’s) flesh)
Idk. Something about not just choosing to give up control in the abstract, where it could kind of be someone else’s body, but giving up control and having to Feel that directly.
No idea if that makes. Any sense. Or is just strange and offputting. But whatever here we are this is what happens when you leave me alone with an idea for like. Two days.
