Though Kirsty felt sick, dizzy, lost, trapped, and hopeless, and would not have been surprised if she pitched over and died at any moment, she did not perish there, leaning against the wall. As the seconds passed by, the shock faded, which did surprise her as she realized it. Maybe the body could only process so much shock? Maybe now that she'd hit rock bottom, she understood at some basic, biological level that everything would be a step up?
It was at about that time that Liam cut in. While his name eluded her, Kirsty recognized the friendly face that tried to make her feel better that morning. Well, more like 'appreciated' than 'better', since she couldn't have possibly known how low she'd been. Actually, now that she thought about it, Kirsty wondered -with just a touch of mania threatening to make her laugh out loud- if this current predicament really was that bad. After all, it beat going on an awful date with Drew, and whatever nightmare lay in store at Navarro's house. She didn't want to go to either, of course, but she couldn't have thrown away her support and her education to indulge those feelings. Now that the choice had been taken from her hands, Kirsty, lightheaded and adrift felt a strange sort of relief. Even thankfulness. Whatever came next, at least it wasn't her fault. Then again, her fault or not, what came next was probably the end of her existence. Dying her seemed preferable.
The strange peace and gratitude stemming from those feelings stirred together in the black cauldron of this bizarre witching hour to give Kirsty a semblance of strength. Taking a deep breath, she pushed herself off the wall. Liam seemed to have approached. He might have said something, but Kirsty heard nothing more than murmurs, like audio corruption through a pair of bad earbuds, while she'd been looking inward. When he yelled out in panic, however, she jumped hard enough to nearly lose her glasses. “Ee!” Just a second later she got a hold of herself, beating Liam to the punch in that regard. The silliness of her being scared by someone else going nuts threatened to make her laugh again. Kirsty allowed herself another second to pull herself together, and that ended up being just in time to hear Alina's name.
“Hello then, Alina,” she greeted. “It's a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.”
Despite what Alina said, however, Liam did manage to shake the other guy awake. He awoke with a furious energy, like a guy who he knew he slept through his first and second alarms and had slept late last week, too. Except Tate let his anger burn against the first people he happened to see after getting up. He staggered to his feet and demanded an explanation from the other confused students. Or else.
His ultimatum left Kirsty shocked. Surely she must have misheard? “H-how should we know?” she blurted out, suddenly so aware of the time limit that her mouth started moving on its own. “Are you th-threatening us? We're in the same boat here!” She knew she was in the right, but a fat lot of good that would do her against a man convinced otherwise who stood a head taller and weighed probably twenty kilo more than her. Wildly looked around to the others for help or at least some kind of solidarity. Would this guy, delirious or dumb enough to antagonize the one familiar element in an alien world, even respect the numbers advantage?
In the silence that followed her panicked declaration, a noise reached the group through the fog. The padding of many feet. Through the mist slid dark shapes, moving smoothly together. Kirsty's breath caught in her throat and she stepped back. That urge to laugh a helpless hollow laugh came once again.
We're so screwed.She watched as dogs emerged from the mist, two at a time. They had sleek black coats, downturned ears, stringy manes of long gray fur, pronounced fangs, and tails longer and thinner than any dog she'd ever seen. Worst of all, their eyes were an otherworldly blue-green, their pupils white. Just looking at them made goosebumps spring out across her skin, and the hair on the back of her neck rise. No man ever owned a dog like these. Of that she felt sure. They stood staring at the students, silent as death, until another, much larger shadow stirred in the fog. From the swirls of contemptible vapor plodded a great hound, its flesh mottled and hairless, its sagging jowls baring twisted fangs, pits of opalescent color in the recesses of its eyes.
It howled, and Kirsty screamed. She turned tail and sprinted the other way down the street as fast as her legs could carry her. Her feet pounded the pavement and her heart drummed against her chest as she fled this way and that, running blindly to escape the pack. The baying of the monstrous hound drove her onward in terror, and she the patter of who knew how many silent dogs' feet. Their teeth nipped at her heels and their jaws snapped shut centimeters from her limbs, but somehow she avoided getting brought down. Finally, after what seemed like an age, she spotted light down the street, flickering in the fog. All rational thought had departed her; in the heat of the moment, light meant good, so with her breath tearing through her throat she rounded a corner onto the street and stopped as if hit in the face.
In front of her lay an avenue of extravagant beauty. The fog melted away before the light of braziers, warm fire pits, and countless candles of every size and color. On either side stretched temple after glorious temple, their facades clad in silks and golden ornamentation. Even the cobblestones were marble, and over the street stretched lengths of patterned cloth and rows of sweet-smelling hanging lanterns. Behind her, the dogs disappeared into the night as if no more than swirls of fog themselves, and Kirsty staggered down the street, her eyes wide open. Before the temples stretched rows of tables and seats, arranged and decorated for a banquet or party of mythic proportions. Within the buildings she could see the glimmer of untold riches. “This must be a dream after all,” she whispered, flummoxed beyond measure.
