Shadow Princess

Chapter One: Dreams are Dreams

Thunder rumbles outside, lightning flashing through the windows of the old abandoned cabin. Shivering, Callista felt the ice pricks of cold. She wraps her arms about herself, rubbing her arms for warmth. Lightning flashes again, illuminating cell bars. Gasping in air, Callista reaches out with a trembling hand, but her hand only connects with a rocky terrain. Sucking in a sharp breath, Callista let her hand drop back to her side. Going in a slow circle, she tries to get her bearings.

"Callista," a voice booms around her, thundering like the weather outside. She backs up in surprise and terror, the voice familiar, but she couldn't place it, "Come back."

"Leave me alone!" she screams, her voice cracking at the end.

A chuckle surrounds her, the sound filled with mCallista. "I've waited so long for this time."

In an instant, the ground disappears from under her and she fell, her screams echoing the endless black hole. She felt the vicious winds tear at her, wanting blood. She cries out as she flew passed a branch, cutting into her side. Looking down below her, she couldn't see a thing. Then as she grew closer, the image of a thick branch swayed. Gasping as she let out a breath of relief, she reaches for it, her hand grazing the rough wood, but the winds tear her away.

A hand grasps her wrist, yanking her to a brutal stop, her arm aching. She is huffing, her whole body wearing down. She glances up, wanting to see her rescuer. A boy is crouching on the branch, his hands clutching her arm. A smile graced her lips, but the boy merely glanced up, his eyes blood red. He grins, sharp fangs slipping out. She screams, and he lunges.

Callista cries out and shoots up into a sitting position. Heart beating frantically, she puts up a hand to her chest to steady herself. Sweat clings to her, beading on her forehead. She sucks in a breath, the nightmare passing. She crawls out of bed; the soaked liners outlining her body. Shaking her head, she yanks the sheets off the bed, huddling it in her arms. Turning around, she feels a cold draft brush pass her. Flinching, Callista drops the sheets, and she catches the windows open.

The sun is peaking over the horizon, sunrise around the corner. The window lurks above the forest that surrounds her back yard and the neighborhood. The Wayland Forest stretches over a few acers, connecting to another town a few miles away. The forest leaves are an emerald green in the dim light of morning.

Callista feels the peace of nature flow through her as she makes her way to the window. The forest has always calmed her down when she was stressed. It makes her think it has something to do with her past. The dark spots in her mind have kept her in the dark about ten years. When she reaches for those memories, all she gathers from it is deep sated anger and agony.

Shaking out of the corrupt thoughts, Callista pulls the window down, shutting off the breeze that came off the forest trees. She walks back to the sheets, then reaches for her phone, on the table beside her bed. The alarm clock she had set last night is about to go off. She frowns, the dream details coming to mind. It has been happening to her the last few months, the cell bars, the crouching boy, and the disturbing voice. The blood red eyes seem to glare at her in her mind, staring her down.

Her alarm blares in her hand, dragging Callista out of her thoughts. Turning it off, she sets it on the bed. She walks to the bathroom, turning on the water. After taking a quick shower, she grabs some casual clothes for school; the exams around the corner. It is the first day back from spring break. She slips on a pair of light blue shorts and slid on a red shirt. Humming under her breath, she picks up the sheets off the ground. She leaves her room, listening for the scurrying paws of her German Shepheard, Fiona.

She hears them and a smile blossoms on her face as she rounds the corner where the steps are located. She hears her bark, and she laughs, stepping down them. She enters the living room, where a fireplace is aflame. The door to the kitchen is open, as her parents are awake before her. Fiona is by the stove, her tail wagging. Callista's mother stands there, flipping pancakes. Her long honey hair is pulled into a ponytail. Her father sits at the long rectangular table, reading a newspaper. Shaking her head, she walks to the laundry bin and dumps the dirty sheets in.