A woman ran through a blurred forest. Her red hair whipped in the wind, flying like fire. Her breathing was heavy and ragged, chest heaving. She stumbled often, tripping over raised tree roots. Her golden orbs were frantic, twitching from left to right. Pale skin, painted black and blue. Everything felt red and raw. Smoke billowed from a far off distance, and screams of terror and agony filled her ears.
Despair coated every step she took. She was filled with so much pain. They were all dying. Everyone was dying. Soft cries escaped her chapped lips, her hearts pumping miles a minute.
A shot rang out. It echoed, bouncing off trees. A blue beam skimmed the woman's shoulder, knocking her to the muddy ground. She landed hard, a groan of pain escaping her mouth. The sound of a machine reached her ears. Her hearts clenched, eyes shut tightly.
Behind her eyelids she saw corpses. She saw the bodies of all she passed, of the people she ran by for her own safety. All of the children- the families- cradled in each others arms even after death. The scent of blood and burning flesh invaded the air, permanently staining her nose.
Dead. They were all dead.
"The Traveler must be contained," the cold, mechanical voice said. Its husky tone penetrated her thoughts, clearing it like a strike of lightening. Terror filled her. She refused to turn around.
Swollen fingers clutched damp, dead leaves on the ground, pulling at pieces of red grass. Another shot rang out, electrocuting her side. Her battered body spasmed. Short screams vibrated throughout her throat. A coppery taste painted her tastebuds, filling her mouth.
"The Traveler is contained. The Traveler is contained!"
The woman spat the blood from her mouth. She could feel it, an overwhelming paralysis locking her limbs. Golden fumes seemed to wave from her failing body, misting and changing. Her eyes hardened, rage igniting like a new flame.
"Transport ready!"
She squirmed, struggling to move her body. Arms twitching, pained gasps escaping her bloodied lips, she rotated slowly on her stomach. Glare set, impossibly cold and dark, she looked up to her enemy.
"Victory for the Dal-"
Alexa gasped, startling awake. She sat up quickly, blonde hair splaying around her in a flurry. Her blue eyes searched frantically in a daze, taking in the desert expanse around her. A loud snore came from beside her, catching her attention. An older man lay next to her, curled in a sleeping bag: her father. Alexa sighed with relief, hand unconsciously traveling under her pillow, clutching an object tightly. She flinched, startled by the coolness of metal. She pulled her hand up, still grasping it tightly to her palm.
Alexa brought the golden pocket watch close to her single beating heart, silently listening to the hushed whispers that only she could hear.
"It's just a dream," She soothed herself, closed her eyes tightly.
"It's just a dream."