the first man said. “You were attacked. Are you in pain?”
She shook her head, the action making her brain ache. Immediately, she glanced around looking for the dog, but it was gone.
“My head,” she said.
He nodded, glancing toward another man, this one as large as the first, but much more intimidating in form. His eyes darted around the area, scoping for something.
“Concussion,” the first man said.
“Not surprised,” the second said. “Well, he’s gone.”
The man with the compassionate eyes helped her up. “Do you remember anything about what happened?”
“No.” She looked skyward, knowing the sky was important. It took her a moment to remember why. Then her mind flashed back to what she’d seen and she pointed up.
“Did the man go that way?” the first man asked.
Part of her knew this was a most illogical comment, but it seemed correct. “Yes,” she said, her words slurred.
God, she was tired. She just wanted to go to bed.
The men’s eyes narrowed in understanding, as though it was perfectly natural for a man to fly away into the sky.
“How did you escape?” the second man asked, his voice rougher than the first.
“Dog.” The smell and feel of the dog nuzzling her came back. “Big dog, with green eyes.”
“We hear that can happen this time of the year.”
She collapsed against him.
*
October 8th
Marissa woke in a cold sweat, shuddering in her bed, her hand at her throat. She didn’t scream this time, but the urge was there.
Maybe she was getting somewhere.
Ever since the weird experience last week, she’d woken up in a cold sweat, usually screaming.
Always with the same dream stained behind her eyes. The man was coming, he was attacking, moving like a ninja; fast yet silent, but she knew he was there. He was going to get her.
And she was going to die.
He was on her in a blink, throwing her to the ground.
Sometimes the large dog came and defended her. Though it wasn’t any dog she’d ever seen, more like a monster; a wolf, some massive form that wasn’t dog, nor wolf, nor any other animal.
Sometimes it saved her.
Most of the time, though, the animal was too late.
The man took her, yanking her up against him, bringing a sharp, desperate pain.
And the dog would howl.
She forced herself out of bed and headed for the bathroom. Splashing water on her face, she tried to steady her shaking fingers. Black arches hung under her hazel eyes, though tonight they looked more green, the red blood vessels circling her irises.
Sleep had become a precious commodity.
At least the goose egg on her forehead had gone away. Since she knew where to look, she could still see the faint outlines of it, but it had diminished enough that no one would notice. She’d been fashioning her hair to cover it up.
Not that she had a boyfriend her office would think was beating her, but still. She didn’t feel like trying to explain to her co-workers why she had a knot on her head and bags under her eyes.
Especially when she had no explanation.
She had no idea how she’d gotten home after leaving the bar. She didn’t remember driving, or anything beyond the weird attack. Someone had tried to hurt her, that much she knew. And she knew a dog had saved her.
A massive dog.
“Girl, you have got to get some sleep,” she muttered to herself. She ran her fingers through her mussed brown hair and tried to get some of the bed knots out of it, but they weren’t doing the job, so she picked up her favorite brush.
Scrubbing it through her hair, she managed to work out the tangles, and pulled the locks back into a loose ponytail to keep it from getting totally snarly for the rest of the night.
That was assuming, of course, she could get some sleep.
*
October 13th
Neil Drigan dribbled the basketball as he ran down the indoor court, the squeak of his shoes mere background noise as he aimed for his shot.
It was a useless gesture.
“You suck,” Dale called out, smirking at him as he grabbed
She shook her head, the action making her brain ache. Immediately, she glanced around looking for the dog, but it was gone.
“My head,” she said.
He nodded, glancing toward another man, this one as large as the first, but much more intimidating in form. His eyes darted around the area, scoping for something.
“Concussion,” the first man said.
“Not surprised,” the second said. “Well, he’s gone.”
The man with the compassionate eyes helped her up. “Do you remember anything about what happened?”
“No.” She looked skyward, knowing the sky was important. It took her a moment to remember why. Then her mind flashed back to what she’d seen and she pointed up.
“Did the man go that way?” the first man asked.
Part of her knew this was a most illogical comment, but it seemed correct. “Yes,” she said, her words slurred.
God, she was tired. She just wanted to go to bed.
The men’s eyes narrowed in understanding, as though it was perfectly natural for a man to fly away into the sky.
“How did you escape?” the second man asked, his voice rougher than the first.
“Dog.” The smell and feel of the dog nuzzling her came back. “Big dog, with green eyes.”
“We hear that can happen this time of the year.”
She collapsed against him.
*
October 8th
Marissa woke in a cold sweat, shuddering in her bed, her hand at her throat. She didn’t scream this time, but the urge was there.
Maybe she was getting somewhere.
Ever since the weird experience last week, she’d woken up in a cold sweat, usually screaming.
Always with the same dream stained behind her eyes. The man was coming, he was attacking, moving like a ninja; fast yet silent, but she knew he was there. He was going to get her.
And she was going to die.
He was on her in a blink, throwing her to the ground.
Sometimes the large dog came and defended her. Though it wasn’t any dog she’d ever seen, more like a monster; a wolf, some massive form that wasn’t dog, nor wolf, nor any other animal.
Sometimes it saved her.
Most of the time, though, the animal was too late.
The man took her, yanking her up against him, bringing a sharp, desperate pain.
And the dog would howl.
She forced herself out of bed and headed for the bathroom. Splashing water on her face, she tried to steady her shaking fingers. Black arches hung under her hazel eyes, though tonight they looked more green, the red blood vessels circling her irises.
Sleep had become a precious commodity.
At least the goose egg on her forehead had gone away. Since she knew where to look, she could still see the faint outlines of it, but it had diminished enough that no one would notice. She’d been fashioning her hair to cover it up.
Not that she had a boyfriend her office would think was beating her, but still. She didn’t feel like trying to explain to her co-workers why she had a knot on her head and bags under her eyes.
Especially when she had no explanation.
She had no idea how she’d gotten home after leaving the bar. She didn’t remember driving, or anything beyond the weird attack. Someone had tried to hurt her, that much she knew. And she knew a dog had saved her.
A massive dog.
“Girl, you have got to get some sleep,” she muttered to herself. She ran her fingers through her mussed brown hair and tried to get some of the bed knots out of it, but they weren’t doing the job, so she picked up her favorite brush.
Scrubbing it through her hair, she managed to work out the tangles, and pulled the locks back into a loose ponytail to keep it from getting totally snarly for the rest of the night.
That was assuming, of course, she could get some sleep.
*
October 13th
Neil Drigan dribbled the basketball as he ran down the indoor court, the squeak of his shoes mere background noise as he aimed for his shot.
It was a useless gesture.
“You suck,” Dale called out, smirking at him as he grabbed
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