A pulsating darkness slithered around the edges of Isla’s sleep.
Run, Isla, run…
The voice echoed in the labyrinth of her subconscious, a desperate plea from a version of herself Isla barely recognized.
In the dimly lit pathway, voices hissed eerily at her. Isla saw herself, bathed in blood over her white shirt, ushering her to keep running for her life, but no matter how fast she ran, she couldn't outrun the gnawing fear that whispered in the shadows, urging her to flee, to hide, to never look back.
The scene changed abruptly, until…
"Isla, wake up."
This time it was different, familiar yet strangely distant.
She reached out toward the voice, longing for it to find her.
Once she got ahold of something warm and a little calloused to her touch, her dream ended right away. Fluttering her eyes open, she blinked faintly to end the remnants of her nightmares.
Theo's face came into view, looming over her with concern etched into his ever-present gentle smile.