Chapter 4
4
I STOOD IN A FIELD.
It was dark, save for ripples of soft moonlight. Trees lined the perimeter in the far distance, but a weird shimmery fog blurred and softened the edges of my sight, so I couldn’t make out any other details. Clouds rolled overhead, obscuring the moon and bathing the scene in blue gray. Short grass tickled my ankles, and when I took a step, my bare feet sank into the damp soil. The wind blew softly, and I shivered in the cold. The air smelled like a mixture of rain and fresh mud, with a hint of rotten eggs. Somehow it tasted metallic.
I had the awareness to realize that those smells and that taste were oddly specific, something that I shouldn’t be able to sense, but the thought was shoved to the back of my mind.
Because there was something in front of me… no, not something. Someone.
Fear shuddered through me.
Despite it, I shuffled forward.
The person… the girl… raised her head. Her golden-brown hair fell around her in wild tangles. Her eyes were wide and scared. The scant light illuminated the red paint spattered across her face.
“Please,” she said, her voice weak. She pushed herself up. Her arms trembled.
“Please,” she begged again, raising her hand. Her palm was streaked with bright white and crimson. She hoisted herself to her knees but then flopped sideways with a gasp after only a moment, like a puppet with her strings cut.
And that was when I realized it wasn’t red paint. She was covered in blood. Her blouse was stained dark red. Her jeans were soaked. It seeped from deep wounds in her torso and slashes across her arms.
There were voices in the distance. Yelling. Screaming? A bush rustled off to the side. Twigs snapped in the forest nearby.
I hesitantly stepped closer. Stone-cold dread weighed down my every movement.
“Please,” she whimpered again, but it was barely a whisper.
I didn’t reassure her. I couldn’t . I was mute, trapped by whatever magic this was. Because it had to be magic. I was sure of it. I could sense the tendrils of it wrapped around me.
The girl had stilled. Her body lost all tension, and her eyes slid half-closed, staring unblinkingly through the grass… at me.
My heart lodged in my throat. I wanted to help her. I wanted to scream. I wanted to run, but my feet were stuck fast, sinking into the mud. I wanted to do anything , but all I could do was stare as her breath stuttered to a halt.
My gaze dropped. Then I noticed that I held an object at my side. My fingers were curled around the handle of a large knife. Wait, not my fingers… someone else’s.
The blade gleamed in the moonlight, the sharp edge tinged red.