The Call of the Beachwick

Interlude: Rational and Irrational

Xara.

Xara...

Wake up Xara...

Xara awoke with a start, gasping in short frantic burst, each inhalation punctuated by a sharp, desperate wheeze. Her chest heaved erratically, a wild rhythm of inhales and exhales echoing in the stillness, like the frantic beating of a trapped bird's wings against its cage. Sweat beaded through her pours, her pulse pounding in her ears, drowning out all other sound as fear tightened its grip on her racing heart. She didn't know why, but something had made her afraid, and self-preservation was kicking in.

Manically, Xara looked around the room caught off guard by her unfamiliar surroundings. An echoing persisted. Somebody was speaking, calling out to her ever-increasing heartbeat with each rapid succession, desperate to get her attention.

"Xara..., Xara..., Xara..."

She couldn't focus. She couldn't think with the pounding at the back of her head. In desperation, she stumbled out of whatever she was lying on somehow tripping into the floor. In her haste to get away, she twisted herself into the blanket, that wrapped itself around her like a boa constricting the life from her body. As fast and as desperate as she possibly could, she fought with its lifeless form until the object finally relented and allowed her to scramble to her feet. Once she found balance, she made it to the closest thing that looked like an exit.

"Where are you Xara?"

The trip was short lived. Unable to focus, she smacked face first into a shelf almost knocking herself out cold. Once more, her lithe form fell to the ground, only this time to be pelted with cloth and linens that descended upon her. Reflexively, Xara held up her hands to stave off the unseen attack, but it was over almost as soon as it began. When the last cloth had fallen, she tried to make it to her feet, but the added wooziness of her head and a trickling of her nose held her to the ground.

"Xara..."

As Xara's heart pounded, her nose turned into a fountain. Its steady flow started to run down her face and for the first time since waking, rational thought started to push through. For a brief second, she could taste the blood's metallic scent staining her senses adding to her worry. Carefully, she pinched the sides of her nostrils, her chocolate skin reddening under its strain. Once the blood's source had been cut off, she carefully angled her head to keep it from flowing back, and tried to clear the throbbing pulsing all around her. It might have worked had the voice not continued to call out to her, taunting her with its every seep.

"Their coming for you Xara..."

Against the floor, she could feel vibrations. Footsteps, steady, but fast approaching were coming in her direction. Before she could turn her head to discern its source, a door opened with a gush of air, instantly altering the atmosphere in the room. The sudden change of sound and movement sent a shiver down her spine allowing panic to return in vengeance.

"Are we aw–what's going on?" came a soft feminine voice that expressed alarm.

Xara didn't wait. Running on pure adrenaline, she released her nose, allowing the blood to once more flow as she made it to her feet and attacked the smaller figure. Had she been more focused she might have noticed the figure surprised expression, but all she could think, all she could feel was the pounding headache and the voice that continued to egg her on.

"It's one of her kind..."

The figure screamed. It was an earthshattering screamed that pierced the room, hall, and voice in the back of Xara's mind. She might have considered it relief, but the panic inside of her told her it would only bring new faces, new sources of concern. Knowing, it would have to stop, Xara grabbed the two horns fixed to the figures face and ordered it silent.