Chapter 13

Alanza’s POV

“You have to be kidding me.”

The knock felt like a physical assault. My head was pounding, and my body was a heavy, useless sack glued to the couch. Of all the possible times for a visitor, today had to be the absolute worst.

I forced myself up. Every joint in my body screamed a protest. I stumbled across the carpet, leaning hard against the door frame to stay upright. I didn’t know anyone in this town, not really. Who would even be at my door?

If it was Mrs. Elkins, I’d manage a weak smile. But if it was anyone else, they were about to meet a very angry, very sick person.

I yanked the door open, ready to spit fire. My landing was empty. The stairway was empty, too. Only a few people passed on the street below. Nothing.

Great. I’m hallucinating now.

I took one tentative step out. I checked both ways again. Still nothing. A real shiver ran through me, colder than the fever. Something felt wrong, but I couldn't put my finger on the feeling.

The sky had turned a bruise-purple color. Dark, heavy clouds rolled in overhead. That was strange. I could have sworn the forecast promised clear skies all week. A sudden storm was exactly my luck. At least I didn't need to leave the apartment again. I already finished my grocery run.

Sighing, I backed inside. I flipped the deadbolt shut, but the heavy click did nothing to settle the jittery feeling in my stomach. I collapsed back onto the couch and pulled the scratchy wool blanket tight over my shoulders, trying to stop the shaking.

It didn't work. The chill wasn't just on my skin. It was deep inside my bones, even though sweat beaded on my forehead and upper lip.

I should take the Tylenol. I should force down more soup. I told myself all the things I was supposed to do. Instead, I just lay there, staring at a dusty patch on the white wall. Even reaching for the TV remote felt like scaling a mountain.

Minutes blurred into a long, sick haze. My fever-addled brain couldn't track time anymore. The shadows in the room stretched long and black as the storm clouds blocked the last of the sun. I knew I should turn on a light, but the effort felt impossible.

Then someone knocked again.

No way.

I squeezed my eyes shut. I ignored the sound this time. I was too tired and miserable to pretend to be nice. They would just have to go away.

The knocking stopped. A deep, dizzy kind of quiet settled back into the room.

My mind slipped away from the couch. I felt myself falling, dropping into that familiar place. The forest. It was the same one that had haunted my sleep since I moved here.

The air was thick and heavy, pressing against my skin with a suffocating heat. It was strange. I knew I was shivering with fever on the couch, but here I was sweating in the dream. The feeling of being too hot and too cold at the same time tugged at my thoughts. None of this was real, yet it felt utterly solid.

Rough tree bark scraped the palm of my hand. Wet earth squished beneath my bare toes. Everything was too vivid, too much in focus.

I glanced down. I could feel the thin white fabric of a nightgown against my skin, damp with sweat or maybe morning dew. I didn't even own a nightgown like this. It clung to me.

I took a step. Then another.

The trees around me bent and swayed slightly, even though there was no breeze.

Dark shadows flickered between the trunks, like black water rippling in my side vision.

Something was new this time. A sound. It was faint at first, a distant, gentle murmur. I almost mistook it for the wind moving leaves. But I strained my ears, and it grew louder. It was the sound of water.

A soft babble of water over smooth rocks. The quiet splash of tiny rapids. It was a peaceful sound, almost hypnotic. It pulled me deeper into the trees.

My feet followed the noise on their own. The ground dipped beneath me, leading down into a shallow bowl in the forest floor.

The trees were packed tight here. Their broad leaves blocked out almost all the light.

Even in the gloom, I saw a familiar, shiny gleam.

Water.

It was a small stream, maybe four feet wide. The water was crystal clear, running fast and happy over a bed of white river stones. It reflected the muted, dusty light filtering through the canopy.

I stepped closer, drawn to it like a magnet.

It called to me. It whispered. The sound was too low for words, but I felt the energy of it. It brushed against my skin, tickled my ears, right at the edge of understanding.

Before I could stop myself, I dropped to my knees. The earth was soft, and my nightgown dragged in the slick mud. I reached out toward the stream.

My fingers trembled just above the surface. I hesitated.

A sudden flash of cold worry. A whisper of warning. Something about this place, about this dream, felt deeply wrong.

It’s too pretty.

It’s a trap.

I snatched my hand back, pulling it to my chest. The stream changed instantly. Its water went dark, murky, and awful. The air around me went frigid. The green leaves on the trees turned brown, rotting, and falling to the ground.

Shadows ate the light. The beautiful oasis became a nightmare.

The gentle noises of the forest vanished, leaving a heavy silence.

The only sound left was my own heart, hammering hard beneath my jaw, thudding painfully in my ribs.

The familiar dream had just twisted into a true nightmare.

A blur of movement.

I caught a glimpse of something darting in the deep shadows.

A pair of eyes glowed back at me. They were a violent, menacing crimson color.

I tried to scream, but my throat closed. No sound escaped, even as I felt the tearing pressure of my fear.

A shadow-creature stepped forward. It was a shapeless mass of darkness for a moment, then it quickly shrank, gathering itself into a solid shape.

For one second, it looked human. A hand reached out toward me.

A cold, wet draft blew past. It smelled putrid, like rot and old meat. I clapped my hands over my mouth and gagged, the smell burning my nose.

Then it was gone.

The shadows.

The creature.

The nightmare forest.

All of it.

I blinked, staring at the familiar white popcorn texture of my ceiling. I was back on the couch.

A loud, sharp rap came at the door, demanding attention.

“Alanza. I know you’re in there. Open up.”