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Cold. She was so cold.
Where am I? The thought echoed through her head. It rattled around until it became unbearably loud and swiftly died away, silenced by the splitting ache that grew in its place.
She walked forward.
Walked? She questioned. No, not walked.
She hadn’t moved an inch, but the blackness surrounding her seemed to spin furiously. It would seem that the darkness was not bound solely to hindering her sight for she felt as though she swam in tar. It filled her ears and mouth, muffling her hearing and muting her voice. It filled her lungs, yet she could still breathe. She struggled to push through it as it suffocated her senses.
A laugh. But not her own.
Detective, It slurred, slimy and sluggish. Are you there, detective?
Was she? Was she there? Where was there? The thoughts continued to rattle, stirring the sharp ache once more.
Footsteps. Closing in on her like the inky blackness that waltzed around her. Closer. Closer. Closer.
Ah, there you are, detective, The voice spit its vitriol at her. You cannot hide from me; I know you are in there.
A sliver of light shot through the abyss.
Hope? She thought, welcoming the intense change. Until realizing the change had come in sheep’s clothing, baring its wolfish grin at her.
The sludge immediately washed from her body and was emptied from the space, scorched by the voracious light. It seared through her veins and charred her skin and mind.
She yelled, her asphyxiation replaced with white-hot pain as a foreign substance coursed through her.
She yelled, her throat raw from the greedy light pouring out from her.
She yelled, her body suddenly exhausted as helplessness weighed heavy upon her, burned through her lungs, and singed her mind.
The light began to retreat; its work was finished—the damage had been dealt. The smell of scorched hair and charred flesh grew stale in her nose. Her skin felt blistered and exposed. The returning ache in her head felt both like a gift of respite and a humorless joke.
A name lingered in her throat, now hoarse and raw. It bubbled from within and searched for freedom from her marred body.
He’s not here, detective, The voice mocked. He’s gone and left you like they all do.
No, she cried, if only to herself. He couldn’t have left her; he wouldn’t have done that.
The name leapt to her dried tongue once more, pleading to escape.
Nate. She whispered to the darkness. Nate! She bellowed to the vast nothingness.
“Nate!”
She awoke alone, drenched in sweat and swallowed by fear. She sat up on her bed, knees tightly held to her chest as she shivered. Her hand drifted up to her neck, the wound still healing from its violent puncture. Gathering her strength, she rose and waded to the bathroom to wash off the drying sweat and lingering panic. She turned the water on cold, reminding her of the inky abyss. Given a choice between the abyss and the flames, she settled for the former, letting the chilled water wash over her.
She missed him. His steady gaze and warm heart. The gentleness behind his honest eyes.
I need to get through this myself, she resolved her will. I cannot burden those around me.
She shut off the water, dried, and dressed in fresh clothes. She gazed at the clock.
3:37am
Returning to the other side of the bed, she reminded herself to change the sheets at a more reasonable hour.
She tossed and turned, unable to find any peace after such a cruel sleep.