Called to Order by Lydia Michaels Page A

come so suddenly that Annalise began to hyperventilate and panic.
    Something was biting her, something with little sharp teeth. “What is it?” she screamed, her words echoing back at her out of the blackness as if laughing at her, mocking her panic. Suddenly the water was not as black. Tiny fish swam around her. Or more accurately, she was wading in a school of fish. They looked the size of minnows, yet had longer, eel-like bodies and whiskers. She watched in horror as one after another began to latch onto her flesh, puncturing her with small prickling teeth, and drinking her blood. She screamed and began to flail in the shallow water. The pain was so small but so complete it was almost desensitizing her skin, sending her into a state of shock. She heard laughter, deep, facetious male laughter.
    At the mocking sound, she grew angry. Her survival instincts kicked in as she began to pluck the little bloodsuckers from her flesh, wincing and grunting like a woman in labor, only able to breathe through the pain.
    “That’s it, little one, fight back. I love to see you grex and rootsh. ”
    Her eyes frantically sought out a face for the voice but were surrounded by only blackness again. “What are they? Who are you?” she demanded.
    The laughter mocked her struggles again. “They are candiru, my little pet. And they tell me your blood is as sweet as ambrosia.”
    The biting became so overwhelming she could hardly focus on what she was hearing. She began to simply scream, over and over again until the nightmare suddenly disappeared and she was being cradled in warm arms, shuddering and sobbing from the ordeal. She was not awake, yet no longer trapped in that horrid place. This new dream was warm and comforting. She heard the voice again, only this time it was soothing, without a trace of malice. “Shh, ainsicht , hush now. It was only a dream. Only a dream.”
    She let the strong arms rock and soothe her until her body calmed. She knew she was dreaming but was somehow trapped within that place between being asleep and awake, weighed down by exhaustion, yet alert enough to know real tears were slipping past her heavy eyelids. Eventually her cognitive mind let go and floated to a more peaceful place. She did not return to the darkness of her nightmare but found herself surrounded by images of rolling, green fields and rays of sunshine forming prisms of light through white, fluffy clouds.
    Annalise shivered at the memory. For as delectable as her dream was, her nightmare was as frightening. There was such a sense of evil surrounding that imaginary dark place, nothing like the warm sensations she felt in her more pleasurable fantasies. And what were those things called? Candiru? Did such a creature even exist?
    Looking at the clock, she noticed she still had a few hours before she had to get ready for work. Annalise climbed out of bed and went to make coffee. As she poured the water into the reservoir she did the pee-pee dance at her small kitchen counter. She quickly placed the pot under the drip and hit start before she bolted into the bathroom. As she finished emptying her bladder she stood and pulled her panties up. When the fabric glided over a sensitive spot on her inner thigh, she frowned.
    Lifting her leg, she placed her foot on the sink and ran a finger over the sore spot. “What the…?” There were two small puncture wounds, nothing she had noticed the day before, but they seemed days old, as if the skin had already begun healing. They were more like bruises than gashes. Did she scrape herself in her sleep? Her mind flashed back to the tiny fish in her nightmare, and she shivered. Shaking her head and calling herself a drama queen she dropped her foot and padded back into her living room.
    She booted up her laptop then retrieved a mug from her cabinet. Once she had her coffee in hand she got comfortable on her sofa and pulled the computer onto her lap. She knew she should be studying her notes for her final, but