I’m running through the woods. The hour is late, and the waning moon is bright. Something isn’t right though. I’m not hunting. I’m being hunted.
My body is sluggish and clumsy. It refuses to cooperate with my commands. My usual speed and dexterity have abandoned me. I know I have to move faster or he’ll catch me. The hunter. I can’t see his face, but I imagine his hot breath on my neck and his sharp teeth sinking into my skin. Given the chance he will devour my flesh and suck the life from my body.
He’s close. I can feel him. He’s looking for me. I don’t know why, but I know he’ll never stop. Not until he has what he wants. Me.
I crash through the brush making too much noise. My shirt catches on the branches that lash at my face and arms. Blood trickles down my forehead and into my eyes making it difficult to see. I don’t dare stop to wipe it away. I have to push forward. But to where? These woods are unfamiliar to me. I don’t think I’ve ever been here before. The terrain is as unfamiliar as the vegetation. These are not the alpine trees of the Green Mountains. These trees are twisted and barren like the land around me. Somewhere in the distance I hear the death cries of an indigenous animal.
He’s stopped to feed. He’s confident that I am no match for him, confident that I will not escape. He’s toying with me. He wants the fear to build, blossoming in my chest until it becomes unbearable. That’s when he’ll attack.
The wind cuts through me; its icy fingers catch me in their grip. I stumble over exposed roots and land face down on the floor of the forest. “GET UP!” I shout, ordering my body to obey. I’m back on my feet in a flash and racing forward once more. When I reach the edge of the forest there’s nothing but a wall of gray fog, thick and dense. Should I go back? What am I supposed to do now? I look around fruitlessly. There is no one to help me here. No guide to point me in the right direction.
As I stand there debating my next move, a chalky white hand emerges from the fog. I’m paralyzed with fear. I know I should run, but what’s the point? I can’t outrun him. He steps forward, leaving the fog behind and reaches for me. A dark hood covers his face, but it cannot mask his beady red eyes. Those eyes are pure evil. A strangled cry catches in my throat and I wake up screaming. Again.
I don’t even consider the time change before calling Aldo. It doesn’t matter what time it is in Romania. I need to talk to him. I turn on the bedside lamp and dial his number. I’m relieved when he answers on the third ring.
“Katia? Is everything alright?”
“Yes,” I murmur. Laying here now in the bright glow of the lamp and hearing his voice it seems silly to be calling. It’s just a dream. I’m too old to require comfort from nightmares. “I just… wanted to hear your voice.”
“Shouldn’t you be sleeping my child? What’s keeping you up so late when you have class in the morning?”
I glance at the clock and realize it’s three in the morning. I guess I should have been more worried about the time on my end of the line, not his. “Would you believe me if I said I’d been studying?”
“It’s the dreams again, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“When did they start?”
“A few weeks ago.” His silence speaks volumes. I know he’s disappointed in me. “I didn’t want to bother you with such nonsense. I know you’re busy.”
“You should have called,” he says sternly. “Tell me about them. What do you remember?” Aldo is always interested in my dreams. He seems to think talking about them will help me to manage my subconscious better and eventually free myself of the nightmares. I don’t really feel like it’s helping, but I oblige him anyway. After all, I did call him.
“Tonight was different. There was no fire tonight,” I tell him, relief spilling over into my voice. “Tonight was about me. I was being hunted. Stalked like prey. I couldn’t see him, but I knew he was there. I could feel his presence all around me.”
“Where were you?”
“I don’t know. The woods.” I think hard wanting to be sure of my next words. “It wasn’t any place I’d been before. At least I don’t think so. I didn’t see any landmarks and I didn’t recognize the vegetation. It was cold. The moon was waning. The trees were bare. Leaves littered the ground making it difficult to move quietly. I was running. I was running so fast, but it wasn’t enough. Fear made me clumsy. I kept tripping.” My voice has taken on an uneven quality. It sounds weak even to my own ears and my cheeks burn with shame. I am ashamed of the fear these nightmares incite in me and ashamed at my inability to control my own mind.
“It was only a dream, Katia. You are safe at Crossroads.” He gives me a moment to regain my composure before continuing. “Go on. What else did you see?”
“Not much. Just… his hand and these horrible red eyes. I’ll never forget those eyes. They were unnatural. But the worst part was the knowing….”
“Knowing what?”
“Knowing that he would never stop searching for me.”