And the Soul Moved on.

Chapter 6

The next morning, Lora awoke with a groan.

The sun rose outside her window, and her eyes opened slowly. Her body stretched smoothly, without an ache in sight, and as she yawned her mouth opened fluidly.

She felt so well rested that she grew suspicious, until she rolled over and saw her hand.

Beneath each of her fingernails was a crescent moon of a dark red stain, and Lora shot up in her bed so quickly she felt dizzy.

A bloodied mass of fur in the woods lit only by moonlight.

A dark haired man who somehow disappeared within a blink.

Blood, flowing down her throat, warm and coppery.

Lora sat for a moment and spoke under her breath.

"It was just a dream. It was just a dream. It was just a-"

Lora's alarm went off with a ring, and her hand flew to the phone lying on her bed stand, turning the awful noise off. Why had she never noticed just how loud that alarm was? Her ears felt as if they were bleeding from the screech.

She took a deep breath as she ran her hands through her hair, considering the possibility of skipping school. Yet she didn't feel sick anymore, and she couldn't bring it in herself to lie to her mom.

Maybe if she went to school, she could ignore the cloying fear that stifled her lungs. With some luck she could even act normal.

Normal.

Lora had a feeling "normal" would no longer be a word she could comfortably relate to.

She stood, walking to her closet to find clothes that would match the ever cooling weather, factoring in the unbearable heat her school just loved to crank up during the winter. She settled on a sweater with jeans, moving to set them on her bed-

Lora paused as her eyes fell on her sheets. Where she had only believed was an imprint of her form due to roughened sleep, she saw a blackened outline of her body so clearly defined she wondered if that strange man had come in and burned it with a torch himself. She discarded her clothes on the rug next to her feet, slowly making her way to the ruined sheets. They were burned clean through, and Lora panicked a bit as she lifted them up to see she had somehow burned clean into the mattress. Soon she was frantically ripping them off, hiding them in her hamper beneath dirty clothes, rushing to the hallway to grab some more from the linen closet; until she saw a singular footprint burned into the hardwood floor right outside her door, smaller burn marks set into the antique carpet that made up most of the hallway.

With an ashamed yank, Lora covered the print that had melted into the floor, before hurriedly scrubbing at the carpet with her fingers. Thankfully they almost disappeared into the fabric with her effort, and Lora finally felt satisfied enough to continue getting ready.

A knock sounded on the door as Lora finally found the courage to brush her teeth, grimacing a bit as she set the bristles to her gums. They were still sore, but a wave of relief washed through her as she successfully rinsed her mouth. The water drained down the sink, its slight pink tinge causing her to shudder. She couldn't think about the previous night for too long; she still battled the belief that it was real. Or that it was fake. Again, she couldn't let herself think about it.

After she had pulled her sweater over her shoulders, checked once more to be sure all was in order in her room (along with the bloodied clothes in her trash bin that she poignantly ignored), Lora began to descend the stairs, backpack in tow, a bit of a spring in her step. The absurdity left her giddy, and yet she found joy in leaning into any scrap of normalcy she could find. Her steps faltered as she saw the front door open, her mother holding a hushed conversation with Ms. Elmwood.