An Intangible Pattern

The fire and the oak

Alex was running. Roots hindered her steps as she battled through the forest, the undergrowth seeming to claw at her naked flesh. Around her came the howls, the gleeful song of her pursuers. Between the trees, in the darkness, she caught glimpses of hungry eyes and flashing teeth. Onward she ran. She must not stop, she must not rest. There was light up ahead. Fire? Maybe there was someone who could help? Maybe she could use it to fight off her pursuers. She increased her speed, charging desperately toward the light. Suddenly the ground disappeared beneath her and she fell into a sunken clearing. The remains of a dry river or pool? At the center of the clearing was a bonfire, around which river-worn rocks, padded with moss, seemed deliberately arranged to accommodate some fae gathering. She hauled herself to her feet and looked up along the banks. The wolves were visible now, drawing in closer like a noose. Leering eyes glowed in the firelight, strings of saliva hung like gleaming threads from their teeth.

She was cornered now, they would rip her to shreds. A spark of fury ignited within her, forcing back the chill of hopelessness. They could devour her; but she would break their teeth in the process. She spun toward the fire seeking a weapon but started at the sight of a figure outlined against the pillar of flames. Its body was male: tall, naked, lean but muscular and moving with unnatural grace: it was beautiful even, but where his face should be was the head of a wolf. The creature started to move toward her and there was something familiar and unsettling about its confident gait. She tried to scream but nothing came out. She tried to run but her feet would not obey.

***

She gasped raggedly and sat up in her bed. She was pouring sweat and crying.

Her eyes darted around the room in the pale dawn light. Everything was still. She was safe. The door was locked. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths just as the counselor had taught her:

Breathe in through the nose, 1...2...3...4. Hold for 4, 1...2...3...4. And then breathe out through the mouth, 2...3...4...5...6.

As she repeated the mantra she focussed on the sound of birds outside the window, rejoicing the returning sun.

It was a dream. Just a dream.

The breathing exercise helped calm her nerves a little but her body still buzzed with adrenaline; she would not be able to get back to sleep. She rolled out of bed, pulled on her leggings and running trainers and filled a water bottle. She left the room and quietly descended the stairs.
In the entrance hall she passed Tim, the security guard who looked up from his laptop and greeted her blearily.
"Mornin', you're keen aren't you?" He glanced at the clock which read 5:36.

"Can't sleep," She replied, leaning against the countertop and fixing the heel of her shoe so it wouldn't give her blisters. "What are you watching?"

"Some documentary on espionage."

"Any good?"

"Kills the time. Did you know the CIA once spent 20 million on a bugged cat, just for it to get run over by a taxi on its first mission?"

She snorted. "I assume the person in charge never owned a cat."

"That'd be my guess." He replied sardonically, raising his thick gray brows in amusement.

She smiled at the old security guard, she was quite fond of him though she wasn't sure how much use he would be if an intruder broke into the apartment, but he was kind and she appreciated his dry sense of humor.

"I'm going to take a run to the hilltop and back along the farm track, want me to get you anything before I go?"

"Nope, there's still some fuel in the tank." He winked at her, shaking his thermos, "you take care now, Miss Alex. I'll let Lin know you're out."