Lonely lupine - A Wenclair story of revenge, anger and love

Chapter 3: The First Vision

The nightmare came suddenly, pulling Enid from the depths of sleep and plunging her into a place where shadows clung like smoke, thick and inescapable. She could feel herself moving, though she wasn’t sure if she was walking, floating, or being dragged. The world around her was blurry and gray, with only faint hints of walls and strange, jagged shapes shifting at the edge of her vision.

She couldn’t see Wednesday, but she felt her presence—a faint, familiar pulse in the darkness, like a heartbeat calling her name. Somewhere in the distance, she could hear the soft, ragged sound of breathing, each exhale heavy with pain and exhaustion.

“Wednesday?” Enid’s voice was barely a whisper, but it seemed to echo, bouncing off unseen walls. Her heart pounded as she tried to follow the sound, stumbling forward as the darkness grew thicker, pressing in on her like something alive.

She caught a glimpse of movement—a shadow slipping past her, close enough that she could feel the cold air shift around her. Her breath hitched, fear tightening around her like an iron grip. She reached out, but her fingers met only empty air.

And then, suddenly, she was no longer alone. Figures loomed in the darkness, barely visible, their outlines shifting like smoke. She could see faint glints of light where their eyes should have been, watching her, studying her with a cold, predatory hunger.

Who are they? she thought, her mind scrambling for answers. What do they want?

The figures remained silent, but she felt their intent—like hands reaching toward her, cold and clawed, trying to pull her deeper into the shadows.

Her vision blurred, and suddenly she was in a different place—a room filled with the same strange symbols she’d seen around the academy, scrawled across the walls in thick, dark lines. They twisted and coiled, forming patterns that seemed to shift and breathe, almost as if the walls themselves were alive.

In the center of the room stood Wednesday, bound by chains of shadow that wrapped around her wrists and ankles, tethering her to the floor. Her face was pale, her dark eyes unfocused and distant, as though she were looking at something far beyond the walls.

“Wednesday!” Enid’s voice trembled as she took a step forward, reaching out to her friend.

But as her fingers brushed the edge of the shadows, a jolt of pain shot through her hand, forcing her to pull back. The shadows writhed, coiling around Wednesday like a living thing, and she realized with horror that they were watching her—eyes flickering in the darkness, their gaze cold and merciless.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” a voice whispered, low and malevolent, echoing from the shadows.

Enid backed away, her heart pounding as she struggled to breathe. “Let her go!” she shouted, her voice cracking with desperation. “She doesn’t belong here!”

The shadows laughed—a cold, hollow sound that filled the room, making her skin crawl. “She is exactly where she belongs. And soon, you will join her.”

Before she could react, the shadows surged forward, reaching for her with long, clawed fingers. She tried to run, but her legs felt heavy, as if she were sinking into the floor. The darkness closed in, swallowing her whole, and just as the shadows reached her, she jolted awake.

Enid sat up in bed, gasping for breath, her heart racing. She could still feel the lingering chill of the nightmare, the weight of the shadows pressing down on her. Her hands were trembling, and she realized with a start that her nails had grown sharper, lengthening into claws that dug into the fabric of her sheets.

“What… what’s happening to me?” she whispered, staring at her hands in horror. She forced herself to take deep breaths, willing her claws to retract, and after a few agonizing moments, they finally returned to normal.