The Cure, Part 7

Dark, foggy, forest

Andrea could see flickers of them in the light of the moon. A bushy tail, sleek white fur, jagged teeth, pointed claws. All she knew was that they had to get far away, and fast.

Even on her adrenaline rush she was slowing down. The tiredness caught up to her, the pain and the terror.

A flash of pain tore up her leg, causing her to crash to the ground. A wolf had latched onto her leg with its terrible jaws, not letting go. She cried out as blood streamed out of the wound.

“Andrea!” Darian screamed, his voice hoarse.

“Keep going,” Andrea called weakly, as the world faded to black.

She was at an odd in-between state. She knew that she was dying, yet some part of her wanted to hold on. The blackness was thick, dark, with nothing beyond.

What was the point of life?

Why was she doing this?

A name shifted her mind, causing the black to fade to gray. It didn’t have a shape yet, but it was important. Perhaps important enough to keep on.

Her vision got sliced in two. The top half was blaring white, and the bottom half was suffocatingly black. She gingerly touched the white, and . . .

Pain. So much pain. But there was something there, something worth fighting for.

She pulled back, feeling for the black. There was nothing, no pain, but also no reason. It was somehow lulling her into its oblivion . . .

Sweet dreams. Happiness. Forever.

She pulled away, as quickly as she could. Should she feel the pain? Or should she get pulled into the sickening darkness?

Before she could decide, the blackness started growing, a thick shadow taking most of her up. 

A name. There was a name. There was something . . .

Before she could change her mind, she dove into the white, the pain engulfing her. But it was real. She needed real.

Everything turned black again, but she knew the name was still there, waiting for her when she awoke.


Her name. That was her name. 

Andrea opened her eyes. Above her was a face, with hazel eyes and beautiful brown hair.

Darian. That was the name.

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