Kate Evangelista - Til Death

“Again with the dodge? I get enough of that crap from Rainer.”

A chuckle, which sounded more like little barks, reached Dillan’s ears. Surely you would rather start working than continue grilling me about what I have been doing.

He shrugged, a grin tugging at his lips. “Don’t tell Rainer, but I’m just happy I have something to do in this place.”

Not so bad here if you ask me.

“Not asking.”

Sebastian panted, his tongue lolling out of his mouth.

“I still think the Council members don’t know their faces from their asses by sending me here.”

Leaves rustled. You would rather talk about that?

He hesitated. Sebastian knew him too well. “You hate it as much as I do.”

You should have waited.

“It’s done.” He ran my fingers through his windblown hair. “I can’t take it back.”

The case then?

“According to Rainer, dogs are disappearing. He believes it’s no coincidence. We need to find evidence of the animals or whoever took them.”

If they are still alive.

The grim reality settled on his shoulders. “I don’t think they are.”

Something about Newcastle unsettles me.

“You feel it, too?” He cracked his knuckles. “I thought it was just me, but there’s a strange static in the air. If I had my usual powers, I’d get to the bottom of what’s going on here. The demotion is the only reason Rainer can hide stuff from me.”

I feel nothing threatening. But you are right about it being strange. The sooner we get the lay of the land, the faster we find out what it means.

Sebastian had a point, so he nodded. “You take the south side, moving west, and I’ll take the north, moving east.”

Then double back here?

He allowed another grin. “You still owe me an explanation.”

When did I ever ask you to explain the things you do no matter how idiotic they are?

“There is that.”

Selena

What Dreams May Come

Milky blindness. Too much light. Squinting, I brought a hand up for shade. Dim outlines took shape. I blinked a few times to focus. A white haze coated my eyes. I rubbed them with the heels of my hands. The light receded.

The clearing stretched out, bathed in silvery moonlight. A flat sea of ivory grass. Gray-green pines swayed. The air had teeth, latching onto the skin exposed by my white dress.

Rustling to my right put me on guard. I didn’t know what to expect in the middle of a clearing in God knew where without a way to defend myself.

An all-black German Shepherd bigger than a cow padded out of a group of pines. The moonlight gave its midnight fur shining highlights that rippled with every move it made. Piercing, ruby eyes studied me intensely. Its breath came out in puffs of smoky mist.

Another rustling. This time to my left. A figure in a black-as-onyx cloak glided to the side of the large animal. The cloak’s heavy cowl covered its face. But something told me I wouldn’t want to see it anyway.

I suddenly wanted to be somewhere else. A haunted house. A graveyard. A dark forest. It felt like invisible shackles held my legs in place. I couldn’t turn around. Couldn’t run.

The figure raised its arm and pointed at me with a boney index finger.

I tried to understand what the action meant. It didn’t make sense. What could the cloaked figure want?

Someone called my name. A faint sound, but I definitely heard it.

I searched for the voice in vain. No matter where I looked only pine trees, the dog, and the cloaked figure were visible. I ran my fingers through the wild halo of my hair.

I looked down.

A dark stain slowly spread from the center of my chest outward. I touched it. My fingers came away black and sticky. Pain rippled underneath my skin like a timer going off. My knees gave way. Sobs wracked my body. I crumpled to the ground. Being stabbed by a thousand needles couldn’t come close to the pain rushing through me. It seemed to fill every cell. The wetness on my chest spilled out, pooling on the silver grass. It didn’t take me long to figure out what it was.

Blood.

Every beat of my heart hastened the gush out of the wound. I raised both hands and applied pressure like I’d been taught in First Aid. The blood kept seeping between my trembling fingers. I tried to call out for help, but my throat closed. Each breath came in hicks and hitches as more blood spurted out. My lungs refused to cooperate, then like a popped balloon, they deflated.

In my panic, I only had one thought : I didn’t want to die .

My fingers went numb. My hands and arms became deadweights. My legs didn’t feel part of the whole anymore. The ground drank every drop of life that left me.

The cloaked figure laughed. At me. At my struggle to stay alive. At my life slowly slipping away.

The black dog looked on, unmoving. Its red eyes glittered.

My heart sputtered. Its beats grew fainter.

The moonlight intensified, swallowing the black dog and the cloaked figure in milky whiteness.

Death didn’t come as darkness but as blinding light.

…

I opened my eyes and sucked in the largest breath I’d ever pulled into my lungs. Exhaling in one slow compression, I gradually became aware of my surroundings. Bright sunlight blanketed every surface of my room. The warmth of my body between the sheets pushed the rest of my grogginess away.

Lying on my back, I stared up at the star stickers on the ceiling. Gramps had put them up for me years ago so I wouldn’t be afraid of the dark. I had peeled off the stickers from their pad and handed them up to him while he stood on a step ladder creating a small cluster of constellations around my ceiling light.

“If you’re ever afraid,” he said at the time, “look up and the starry sky will greet you.”

Before I could take comfort from the faded stars, the vision hit me.

I died.

Icy dread sent shivers from my toes up to my head and back down again. My teeth chattered as I gripped fistfuls of my bed sheet. My visions had never been about anything so intense before.

Maybe it had been a regular nightmare and not a vision of my future? Really, where would I encounter a dog that big? And the cloaked figure…I’d seen Halloween costumes more creative.

Someday I’d die, sure, but not now. Not so soon. Only a nightmare. An ordinary nightmare that common, everyday people had. Nothing to worry about. Nothing.

I sat up. My hair tumbled over my forehead. I swiped the strands away only to have them bounce back.

“Selena! We’ll be late, dearie.” Grams called from downstairs.

Her cheery voice slapped me out of my gloom.

“Coming!” I pulled the light comforter off my legs.

…

A hot shower later, I came into the kitchen in jeans and a shirt with RECYCLE in bold letters across my chest. Streams of golden sunlight made the kitchen look comfortable and lived in. The smell of pancakes and ham helped banish any thoughts of black dogs and hooded figures.

The radio on the counter blared the Morning Show on KASL. The weather report was winding down when I dropped my school bag on the floor, pulled out a chair, and sat down. The day would be sunny without a chance of rain, beautifully clear—all blue skies and puffy white clouds.

No milky moonlight. No silvery clearing. No images of death.

I watched my grandmother—a small woman with a big heart—fill a plate with a stack of pancakes, slices of ham, and a mound of scrambled eggs. She had her white hair in a simple twist. When she turned around, her freshly glossed lips held a sweet smile that warmed me from the inside out. Grams moved like a storm in the kitchen, but instead of devastation in her wake, she left great food and shiny countertops.