The light was brilliant, lighting up the green meadow so beautifully that Jerrica stood in. She had been here before, many times. There were flowers of all types that were so vibrant that it was hard to tell if they were real. Dragonflies and butterflies flitted through the air and around her head while birds chirped a wonderful afternoon song. It was peaceful, Jerrica felt it so strongly. Peace is something that she hasn't felt in a while.

Jerrica looked up to the sky, noticing the tall mountain that stood high above the meadow and the small cluster of wispy clouds that surrounded the very top. There were no other mountains that supported the natural structure, it stood proudly by itself. Jerrica felt something emanating from it, a sense of power almost, as if there was a secret locked away in that lone mountain that was waiting to come out. And she wanted to let it out. The mountain had placed its grip on the young woman. It beckoned her forward and she made no amount of protest as her legs moved on their own accord, closer and closer to the edge of the meadow. A gleam of metal caught Jerrica's attention. She turned slowly, breaking the trance of the secret mountain and her eyes set upon familiar twinkling blue ones that she knew so well.

"Hello, Jerrica," a soft voice greeted, a voice that she held onto in her darkest moments. Her mother was adorned in a beautiful white gown, just as before. A gold headpiece surrounded the top of her head and the aura of nobility that emitted from her small frame seemed so natural, like it was always meant to be there.

"Mom," she whispered. Her voice carried through the wind in faint echoes. Low humming reached Jerrica's ears. It started out so soft, gradually increasing in volume. She turned her head, realizing that the noise was coming from the mountain. Soon the hums became words and those words became a story; a story that Jerrica found herself leaning over to listen for. The melody was haunting and the voices so deep. It was hard to hear every word, but one line she did hear:

We must away ere break of day,

To win our harps and gold from him!

"What do they sing about?" Jerrica's voice continued to quietly echo through the meadow. She received no response from her mother and when she turned, she found herself alone once again. It was strange, this place, but the peacefulness that settled within Jerrica before had never left. She felt oddly comforted. A rustle in the grass behind her broke the spell of the song that continued to sound from the mountain. Jerrica was alone no longer; there were three others in the meadow with her, but they did not seem to register her presence. They looked peculiar, as if they weren't really there in full. It seemed to Jerrica that they were apparitions of some sort, their bodies glowing faintly with an ethereal light. This made it hard for her to make out the features of the three. They were men, short men at that, about the same height at Jerrica, two of which had darker hair while the other was blonde. The three men jerkily moved, swords out and muted shouts coming from their mouths, like they were fighting with invisible forces.

Jerrica watched as one by one, they fell to the ground in motionless heaps and for some reason, Jerrica felt the strongest pang of grief, the type of grief that one would only ever feel when someone they cared for deeply had permanently departed from the living. It was the same grief that she had felt when her mother vanished.

Suddenly, three figures stood before her, the very same as before. The light around them had dimmed just enough for her to catch only the slightest glimpse of their features before they too vanished from sight. Jerrica was alone once more. She found herself humming the very tune that came from the mountain, the mountain of secrets. A smile played on her lips. She wanted to know the secrets within that mountain and she knew, one day, they would be revealed to her. One day she would know.

Another rustle came from behind her. Jerrica expected it to be the three men again, but was horrified to see that it was not them, but the black shadow with glowing red eyes. A familiar demonic laugh drowned out the pleasant noises of the meadow, the brilliant light clouded by shadow. All turned grey and dismal while the black shadow continued to eye its prey. Jerrica wanted to run, but her legs remained rooted to the ground, unwilling to follow her command. And then there was Freya, running towards her with fear written clear as day on her pale face.

"Jerrica!" she screamed. Her voice was just as muted as all the others before, barely reaching Jerrica's ears. The shadow swooped down towards Freya, shrouding her sprinting form in darkness.

"No!"

Jerrica bolted forward from the living room couch and breathed heavily. She was certainly not expecting that at all. The dream went as it normally did and t should have ended right as the three men disappeared, but the dream prolonged this time. And with the very demon she believed she hallucinated; however, now she wasn't so sure that a hallucination is what it was. This was becoming ridiculous. This shadow was infiltrating every thought Jerrica had for the past three days and now it was entering into her dreams.

It was an entirely new ending that Jerrica was not anticipating. She had no idea what the hell was going on, but she desperately wanted it to end. Since the night that she found the writing above her bed, she refused to sleep in her own room. Of course, Freya had flipped when she saw it as well and had wanted to call the police to report a break in and harassment, but Jerrica convinced her to let it go for the time being; because Jerrica knew, it wasn't some petty harassment. Something else was going on, something completely unexplainable. After what happened to both her and Freya earlier that same night, she was convinced of it. She didn't tell Freya, partly because she knew that her sister would assume she finally went off the deep end, despite her constant decrees that she and Jerrica "didn't belong in this world" which she found a little hypocritical.

This dream, it proved it all to her. Something was at work here. It frightened her; yet, Jerrica could not deny the small amount of thrill that ran down her spine. No, she wasn't fond of the idea of a black shadow with red eyes hunting her and her sister down, but the thought of an other-worldly force weaving itself into her mundane life made her feel almost…hopeful; hopeful that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for her and Freya to actually live out the fabricated stories they would make up on rainy evenings when they had only the company of each other and Netflix. Jerrica didn't want to get her hopes up too high though. After all, she was a candidate for several disorders already and the last thing she wanted was for Monica to add psychosis to the list.

It had been a few days since her session with Monica and, strangely enough, Jerrica felt bad for her outburst towards the end of it. And, despite her profession and everything that Monica stood for, Jerrica found it relatively easy to talk to the therapist when she decided to open up. It didn't matter if Monica didn't believe what she said. The shrink was always a "tell it like it is" person, but never once did she judge Jerrica right off the bat and she was very aware of Jerrica's issues with any sort of medication or extensive procedures. For that, the young woman was incredibly grateful. It was time she maybe started to actually show it.

It was Thursday, meaning that Jerrica technically had classes, but she decided to skip and see if she could talk to Monica, if only for a few minutes. Tomorrow was the day Freya said they would be leaving for the camping trip, so packing afterwards would not be a bad idea either as Jerrica knew she still had a few classes in the morning. She changed herself quickly and threw her hair up before grabbing her bag and car keys off of the dining room table. A disgruntled Freya emerged from the hallway, her eyes scouring the floor for the twentieth time in three days.

"Aren't you supposed to be at work?" Jerrica asked her. Freya only looked at her younger sister with annoyance.

"Aren't you supposed to be in school?" she snapped back. Jerrica's eyebrows went up at her tone. "I'm going to see Monica instead." That made Freya stop.

"Why? You never want to see her…" Jerrica shrugged.

"I don't know. I just have this feeling, like I should go see her, talk to her. I can't explain it." Freya looked at her funny so Jerrica tried to change the subject. "Still haven't found the necklace?"

"No," Freya said tiredly. "I don't get it, it was literally on my neck and then it wasn't. It couldn't have just disappeared."

Jerrica knew this was a big deal to Freya. The identical necklaces the two sisters had were given to them by their mother years ago; they had become mementos and Jerrica knew that if she had lost her own necklace that she would have been flipping tables.

"I'll look around a little bit more when I get back, okay? You should probably get ready for work," said Jerrica softly. Her sister nodded slowly and retreated back to her room without a word. With a sigh, Jerrica stepped out of the apartment and made the two minute trek to her car, the whole time keeping her hand clasped firmly around the silver locket that lay just below the hollow of her neck. On the drive to the office, she made sure to occasionally sweep a finger over the piece of jewelry, just to make sure it was still there and hadn't disappeared as well.

Jerrica could not shake the feeling of being watched as she pulled into a parking space and climbed out of her car. Suspicion and a slight feeling of anxiety welled up within her, but she blamed it on the incident that had occurred in the building those three days ago. Would the shadow be there again? Was it waiting for her?

She shook her head lightly to dispel all of her apprehension-filled thoughts. Everything was fine. She would be fine.

Jerrica walked leisurely to the receptionist who she had recently become quite acquainted with over the past few months and gave the perky red-head a small smile. "Hey Viv."

"Oh, hey, Jerrica. What brings you here? I thought your next appointment wasn't until Monday."

"No, it is. I just wanted to know if Monica was busy at the moment. There's something I kind of wanted to talk to her about." Vivian knitted her eyebrows together, but nodded anyway and placed her hand on the mouse of her computer.

"Okay, let me check." Jerrica waited patiently while Vivian clicked and typed away. "It doesn't look like she has any appointments right now. I'll call her on the intercom and see what she's doing."

"Thanks," Jerrica said with a grin. Vivian returned it while her finger reached for the red button next to the name "Monica Strafford." She pressed it once and when there was no reply she pressed it again only to receive the same result.

"Hm, she might be out of her office," Vivian said. "You know what, she likes you a lot so I don't see the harm in letting you go up there. Just wait outside her office and she'll be there eventually."

"Awesome, thank you so much Viv," Jerrica rushed out as she hurried to the elevator. She bounced her body up and down impatiently while the elevator took its time in pulling her up to Monica's floor. She wasn't sure why she was so anxious to get to the office, she never usually was. But Jerrica felt it as soon as she stepped into the hallway, the sense of foreboding where her anxiety must have been stemming from. The feeling of eyes on her prickled her skin and caused the hair on her neck to stand on end. Someone, or something, was in the hallway with her.

Jerrica quickened her pace to the large mahogany door that led into Monica's office and knocked several times to see if she had possibly come back already. However, there was no answer. She looked around the empty corridor, waiting for any sign of the therapist in vain. As instructed to her, Jerrica leaned against the wall beside the door and waited, her foot tapping against the floor in a rhythmic pattern. She stood there for fifteen minutes and every tick of the giant clock hung at the end of the hall echoed loudly in her head. Her patience was wearing thin and so was her comfortability. The hallway seemed to darken further around Jerrica, a chill in the air. It all seemed too familiar with the events that took place before. At this point, Jerrica didn't care how rude she might be, her hand enclosed around the handle of the door, and, with one last sweep of the area, pushed her way inside the office. The sight that greeted her had Jerrica gasping in shock.

Papers were strewn across the room, littering the floor along with pencils, markers, and even the drawers to the desk were lying haphazardly on the ground for anyone to trip on. The once immaculate office looked as if a tornado had ripped through it. The black chair that Jerrica always sat on during her sessions was overturned and several feet from where it usually stood, the same for the small leather couch across from it. And then her eyes fell on a pale hand that lay still on the floor, the rest of the body hidden by the large wooden desk. Shaking violently, Jerrica stepped ever so slowly towards the desk, her heart racing and a feeling of dread overcoming her being. For the third time in the span of a week, Jerrica was absolutely terrified; and rightly so because the scene before her was everything akin to horrifying.

It was Monica and she looked undeniably dead. Her alabaster skin seemed even paler, her thin lips contorted into a deep frown. The lower half of her white button down was drenched in blood, seeping from what Jerrica assumed to be either a bullet or stab wound. A frightened sob escaped Jerrica's mouth as she fell to her knees and crawled towards Monica's motionless body. The blood had drained from her own face moments ago, her heart beating even harder and faster than she thought possible, to the point where it was hurting.

"Oh, God," Jerrica whimpered, cradling her head. The drumming in her chest drowned out all other noises that sounded around her and she began to have difficulty breathing. This was not the first time Jerrica had felt this. The sight of Monica's possibly dead body had spurred on another panic attack, an incredibly tremendous one. Jerrica felt she might die.

For nearly ten minutes Jerrica rocked her body back and forth while the attack took its course and when it finally began to dissipate, the trembling of her hands did not let up, but she was better able to breathe and actually call for help. It took almost three minutes before she could actually dial 911 correctly with the intensity of her shaking, even longer to be able to coherently tell the dispatcher where she was and what had happened.

"Is there any sign of movement, breathing?" Jerrica looked towards Monica.

"Uhm, t-there's n-no move-m-ment."

"Is she breathing, ma'am?"

"I—I don't know," Jerrica choked out, her eyes still leaking tears.

"I need you to check for me, okay? There's help on the way now, but I need you to tell me if she's breathing or not." With the phone still in hand, Jerrica crawled over to Monica's body and cautiously placed a hand on the top most of her chest. She could have sworn she felt the slightest upward motion, but, just to be sure, Jerrica placed two fingers underneath Monica's jaw and felt for a pulse. And to her absolute relief, she felt a beat. It was slow, nerve rackingly slow, but it was there.

"There's a pulse. I-it's slow," she informed.

"Thank you ma'am, can you stay on the phone with me? Are you alone in the room?"

The dispatcher managed to calm Jerrica down a bit more as she waited for the shrill sound of sirens in the distance. The fact that Monica was still alive greatly relieved her enough to feel slightly calmer, but she was losing a good amount of blood and it would only be a matter of time before those shallow breaths went stagnant. A muffled noise in the corner of the room made Jerrica freeze. She turned her head around, noticing that the other end of the room had become significantly darker. That's when she saw the two, blood red eyes staring back at hers. This was no random murder attempt and Jerrica felt the cold rush of fear dribble down her back.

It was the shadow again, and he was not only targeting her, but the people around her as well.

Like an answer to her prayers, loud footsteps sounded from the hallway and in came an entourage of EMT's and police officers. Within five minutes, Jerrica was standing outside while Monica's body was wheeled into the back of the ambulance, a large oxygen mask covering the majority of her face. They were shutting the doors, when Jerrica cried, "Wait!" One EMT with light brown hair pulled back into a tight ponytail turned to Jerrica. "I—I'd like to go with her, if that's alright."

"Are you a family member?" the woman asked with an eyebrow raised. Jerrica was about to shake her head, but thought better of it.

"I'm her niece," she said smoothly. The woman looked at her strangely for a moment then nodded her head, opening the right door to the ambulance to allow Jerrica in. For the life of her, she couldn't understand why she felt she needed to lie, but she felt responsible for what happened to Monica. It would only be right to see if she was okay.

The ambulance took off, zooming down the street with the siren blaring while Jerrica tried to keep herself steadily seated. For a moment, she contemplated holding Monica's hand then thought better of it and just stared at the large mask that was aiding in her therapist's breathing. She wasn't an actual blood relation to Monica, not even that close to her at all. Jerrica wondered if she did have any family. It was hard for her to imagine Monica being in a happy relationship with little children running around her; the woman was just too dour. Yet, Jerrica had to admit that she knew next to nothing about Monica's personal life, so she couldn't make any assumptions.

It didn't take long to get to the hospital and everything from there happened in a rush. Before Jerrica knew it, she was sitting on a white bench across from the room where doctors and surgeons worked on Monica. Part of her wanted to get up and leave, but the guilty side convinced her to stay and at least make sure that Monica was well and would survive.

"Uh, Jerrica?" She looked up to meet the eyes of a young man clad in blue scrubs and a white lab coat, a clipboard in hand.

"Yeah, that's me," she replied while straightening her back from its slumped position.

"Okay, it looks like Monica is going to be absolutely fine. She lost a fair amount of blood, but it's not as bad as it could have been. She's lucky you found her when you did." The breath that Jerrica didn't even know she was holding finally left her.

"Good, that's…good. Is she awake?" The doctor shook his head.

"Not at the moment. She went through a bit of shock and for now she needs to rest. She might wake up within the next few hours if you would like to stay." Jerrica opened her mouth to reply when a frantic looking older man came running down the hallway, a young girl who seemed like the exact spitting image of Monica in tow.

"Where is she? Is my wife okay? Is she going to be okay?"

"You must be Mr. Strafford," the doctor said to him calmly. "Yes, your wife is going to be fine. She's resting now, but she'll be alright." The man, Monica's husband, sagged in relief, curling his arm around the young girl while she cried into the side of his woolen jacket. His hair was relatively short and greying, his eyes a rich brown that held innocence and purity. Despite the greying hair, he seemed younger and definitely not who Jerrica expected as Monica's husband of all people. The man looked to Jerrica then, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

"Who are you?" The doctor's face screwed up in confusion as he looked to Jerrica as well.

"She said that she's—" Jerrica quickly intervened, knowing that her act was up.

"I'm sorry. I found Monica in her office and I…she needed someone with her so I…" She stumbled over her words, not knowing exactly what to say. Jerrica half expected Monica's husband to start yelling at her and demand that she leave, but instead his eyes crinkled and he smiled sadly.

"Thank you, then, for helping. It's greatly appreciated." He turned to the doctor. "Can I see my wife now?" Monica's husband and daughter were escorted into the room where the therapist herself lay sleeping.

"So, if you're not Monica's niece, I'm sure the police will have a few questions for you," the doctor said as he closed the door. Jerrica nodded, her anxiety coming back a bit at the thought of talking to the cops. It reminded her too much of that day.

The next hour was spent with Jerrica answering every question thrown at her by the police, and after being cleared by Vivian's account and a few other witnesses, she was free to leave. She was tempted to go back and wait for Monica to wake up, ask her what exactly had happened. In the end, though, Jerrica only turned around and quietly slipped through the hospital doors, completely aware of the eyes that followed her every move.


"Are you completely sure you don't want to cancel the trip? I totally understand if you do, I mean, finding someone dying on the floor is beyond—"

"Freya! I want to go, alright? I think I need this trip, now." Jerrica was sat cross-legged on her bedroom floor, placing her last minute items in her backpack while Freya wrung her hands by the door.

"Okay, but only if you promise me that if at any moment you feel uncomfortable or you need to leave—"

"Jesus Christ, yes, I will let you know! Now go and finish packing so we can leave already!" Jerrica knew that Freya was only look out for her, but her older sister seemed to over-do it at times. Honestly, she was worse than how their mother had been. With an exaggerated sigh, Jerrica stood up from the floor, grabbing her backpack, and made her way into the living room where all of their camping supplies were neatly piled.

Jerrica was already dressed and ready to take off, eager to get away from the city that was starting to close in on her. Too much happened in such a short amount of time. She was surprised she managed to get through it all with only two panic attacks. Freya walked out of her room a few minutes later and with after asking a few more questions to see if Jerrica was really up for the trip, they began to shuffle out of the apartment with their arms full of camping gear.

"Freya?" Jerrica called softly when they finished piling everything into the trunk of Freya's jeep.

"Hm?"

"Can we stop by the hospital real quick, before we leave?" Freya gave Jerrica a small smile and nodded her head.

"Course." The two were silent during the ride to the hospital, Jerrica nervously fidgeting in her seat the closer they got. She knew exactly who the culprit to Monica's attack was, and she was curious to know if Monica remembered anything. Freya pulled into the hospital parking lot and cut the engine.

"Do you want me to go in with you or should I just stay in the waiting area?"

"I think I should go alone. You're okay waiting?"

"Yeah, do what you gotta do, sis," she replied, plopping down onto one of the plastic chairs.

"Um, I'm here to see Monica Strafford," Jerrica said quietly to the receptionist. Without saying a word, the older woman searched through her computer, eventually barking a, "third floor, fourth door on the right." Jerrica didn't bother saying thank you and just walked away towards the elevator.

Monica looked immensely different without her usual crisp eyeshadow and lipstick. Her hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, a few pieces of hair falling out and into her eyes. Jerrica was taken aback by the stark difference; it didn't even look like her therapist. In fact, she looked like the typical suburban soccer mom. Her eyes were heavy with exhaustion and something else that Jerrica could not name; but she had seen it before, in passing, when Monica was troubled and had briefly forgotten to put her guard up. It might have been pain or sadness, maybe more.

"Jerrica," Monica called with surprise. "I wasn't expecting you to come visit me."

"Did they tell you?" Jerrica asked. "I was the one who found you." Monica's eyebrows shot up in disbelief.

"Really," she said. "What were you doing at the office yesterday?" Jerrica looked away, her eyes trailed on the floor at her feet.

"I wanted to talk to you about…things. I don't know. I've been getting this weird feeling lately and…Freya, she feels it too. I'm not the only one." Quickly Jerrica shook her head, realizing this was definitely not the time or place to be talking about these things with Monica. "I'm sorry. That's not what I came here for. I just wanted to know how you were doing."

Monica smiled, then, and motioned for Jerrica to sit on the small plastic chair beside the hospital bed. "I'm sore and a little shaken up, but nothing too drastic, surprisingly."

"I'm sorry if this is completely inappropriate of me to ask, but, do you know who—who did it?" Monica shook her head ruefully.

"No, I don't. I…seem to have blocked out the incident..." Monica waved a hand in the air. "My memory of yesterday is a little botched." Jerrica nodded in understanding.

"Well, I hope they figure out who did it, you deserve that much. I actually am going away for a few days with Freya and a couple of her friends so I wanted to see you before I left and make sure you're okay and all."

"Oh, that sounds nice. It seems you and your sister are due for a getaway. I hope you have fun."

"Thanks," Jerrica replied quietly. The door to the room opened and in came the same girl that Jerrica deduced as Monica's daughter. "I should get going then."

"Alright. Thanks for visiting Jerrica. I'll let you know as soon as I'm out so we can reschedule an appointment." Monica was smiling again, an action that looked so foreign on the woman's face. Jerrica gave a tight smile back and made her way to the door before turning back around.

"Monica, did you have an appointment yesterday morning before the incident by any chance?"

Monica furrowed her eyebrows at the question. "I did. Why do you ask?"

"Can I ask who it was with?" The older woman held a vaguely suspicious look in her eye, no doubt contemplating whether she should answer or not.

"Mark Tungston. He was supposed to come see me right after your last session, but he called and asked to reschedule."

Jerrica recognized the name and it seemed as though a piece to the puzzle was put into place. "What…does he look like?" She already knew the answer, but she wanted to be sure.

"Uh, tall, long black hair; in fact, he seems to always be in black." Jerrica felt the air being knocked out of her lungs. She knew exactly who had attacked Monica. Whoever, whatever, this is, they were not only targeting her and Freya, they were targeting anyone else she was involved with.

Jerrica couldn't help but question the obvious:

Why?


I really tried to fit in them going to Middle Earth, but I thought that this was a good ending for the chapter. But I promise that they will get there in the next chapter, cross my heart.

Please review and tell me what you think!

Thanks for reading(: