The world turns hazy.
“Oh. Oh my!” Her startled gasp is how I know I’m not just imagining that the hallway is tilting. A second later, I crash to the floor.
Startled cries rip from the elderly patient and a few others who are gathering around me, staring with concerned expressions.
As I straddle the line between consciousness and unconsciousness, I see a slim figure running toward me. She’s wearing a hospital gown like all the others. Her golden hair, backlit by the light pouring through the windows, swishes back and forth as she sprints over.
She skids to a stop and hangs a little away from the crowd, but I see blue-green eyes staring at me strangely. It’s the image that lingers in my mind before the entire world goes black.
The nightmare is back. The one where I’m sprinting through darkness and shadows. Something’s coming. Something evil.
I don’t know who or what.
I only know that if I’m caught, it’ll be the end of everything.
So, I run.
Chest pumping.
Arms flailing.
But the monster overtakes me. The beast is bigger, faster, stronger. I increase my pace, desperate to escape, but I’m not fast enough.
It grabs my feet and yanks.
I slam to the ground.
The darkness around me extends its arms like claws, pinning me so I can’t squirm free. I look up into the monster’s face, but it’s covered in shadows.
“Sh.”A voice from somewhere beyond the darkness whispers. “It’s okay. Hey, it’s okay.”
I feel someone patting my chest, and I grip the hand connected to me, pulling it and the person closer. As my eyes burst open, I come nose to nose with a stranger.
Disoriented, I stare at her.
Golden hair. Full cheeks. Long, slender neck. I notice a slight bump under the skin to the left of her collar bone.
She gasps and my eyes return to her face.
Everything about her looks like a fairy.
Except for her mouth.
It’s pink and full and glossy.
That mouth is a different kind of magical.
She stares back, blue-green eyes widening with every breath. Her thick, golden lashes flap up and down in absolute shock.
I hear a beeping sound. The blonde reacts as if a gunshot went off, and she scrambles off me. I let her, puzzled as she checks her watch and then fans her reddening face.
“This stupid watch,” she mumbles, beating it with the heel of her hand.
I blink a few times and try to sit up when I realize that I’m wearing an unbuttoned hospital shirt and have bandages wrapped around my ribs.
What’s going on?
This doesn’t look like the recovery ward. There are giant floor-to-ceiling windows to my left. Beside the hospital bed are bookshelves filled with books. The wall where a television would normally go is crowded with three giant computer monitors and a large desk. Embedded in the desk is an impressive CPU, its powerful fan whirring loudly.
