Evelyn
“Ahh—!”
I gasped sharply as my eyes flew open.
The air around me felt thick and cold, and I blinked fast, over and over, trying to make out anything. Everything was dark—like, pitch dark. Not even that gentle blue kind of dark your eyes eventually adjust to. This was like I’d been shoved inside a black velvet box and slammed shut.
My breathing came fast. Way too fast. Chest rising and falling like I’d been running. “What the hell…” I muttered, reaching up to rub at my eyes. They burned like hell, heavy and strained, like I’d been crying in my sleep or had rubbed them raw without realizing.
Come on, come on. Focus.
I kept blinking, rubbing, hoping something, anything, would come into view. I tried to feel beneath me. Grass? Dirt? I couldn’t tell.
And then, whoosh.
“Ah—!”
Something shot past my left ear like wind with weight, like a shadow that moved too close and way too fast.
I jerked my head toward the sound, hands dropping from my eyes in reflex. And just like that… the darkn
