Disclaimer: yadda yadda yadda I don't own anything but Maria

"Run."

A stick crunches under my foot as I race pass yet another wall of bushes, darting to the right at the end. I don't know my way around—well who would?

It's called a maze for a reason.

I must've stumbled and tripped dozens of times already. "Concentrate on the way you're going," I mumble, "not the obstacles along the way."

"Keep going."

An involuntary flinch rolls down my spine. Where is that voice coming from? No one but the wall of vines and branches around me.

I turn and turn and turn, falling in the process. And then I see something from the corner of my eye. A flash of something. I keep running.

Someone laughs and it booms like thunder. It's a ways behind me. How am I getting out of here?

"You have to keep going."

I've heard that voice before. Where? And as another cackle comes, I cover my ears. "Where! Where am I going?"

The flash appears again. However, forming a head and shoulders and arms, it stays as a figure.

"There's no time."

"Why?" I cry. "Why can't you tell me?"

The figure pauses and looks up.

"They're coming for you."

My mouth opens to ask but the figure grabs onto my wrist and pulls me along, grip just as warm as their golden outline.

The laughing follows, even louder than before. Bushes start to rustle and the ground shakes. "What's going on?" I scream. "Just tell me. Please just tell me!"

More and more we run dodging the winding, endless tangles of the maze. And then the figure stops, and I run past it—through it, to be more exact. It looks down at me like it's waiting for something so I ask what.

It points at the opening slope that ends the maze.

"Go and I will come after."

So I go, and the figure stays. Out of the maze and without laughter. I wait at a nearby tree for the figure. Slowly hovering above the grass, it wanders out.

Almost.

Jagged, crystal-white hands wrap around and crush the golden one as easily as glass. With little time to react, they grip me by the ankle and yank me down.

All I'm left with is a scream of white noise, guiding white hands to take me whole.

That gaseous orb in the sky shines rays against my eyelids. Opening them, a certain feline stares back; I smile at her.

For some reason everything hurts. I stretch my limbs after sitting up and even that pains me. "C'mon Annie," I call, "Let's go inside. I'm getting a little hungry."

We walk around the side of the house that swoops into the porch. I glance back at the sassy cat to tell her to speed up, but before I can say any remark, I slam into the wall.

I grab my head, an ever-present throbbing in my skull, and groan, "Jeez, I got to look where I'm walking."

Annie agrees with a meow and I peek to find her, but only come eye to eye with someone else. Surprised in the moment (and still reeling from my dream), I yelp and throw a fist on instinct.

It connects with a jaw. "What was that for!"

I sit upright and watch him stagger back with his cheek in hand. Two more people appear and observe the scene.

"You shouldn't have scared me!" I warn with a finger.

Yusei asks what's going on but we both ignore it, both of us still in shock.

"You shouldn't have punched me!" Crow shouts after a few more groans.

The sound of chuckling comes from Yusei's side and Crow's head snaps away from me: "Shut it, Jack!"

Crow calms down enough to let Yusei examine his face. "There might be a bruise later," he says. "Put ice on it."

I apologize a hundred times: "I didn't mean to. Really—"

He rubs the spot again, but this time giving me a grin and a thumbs up. "It's nothing. I've taken my fair share of blows and one punch isn't going to kill me."

I smile, "I'm glad." Skipping up the porch steps and opening the door, I call, "Come inside, I'm sure we have something to help stop the swelling."

Headed to the kitchen, I greet Martha and rifle through the freezer.

She stops cutting the vegetables and watches me. "Need something?"

"Do we have any ice?"

"Ice?" her brow raises. "Just ice?"

I nod and she goes on. "Why?"

"I need it for a bruise."

Martha inspects me, eyes intent on finding an injury. "Did you get hurt?"

"Figured you be in here," states Crow from the doorway. "Got any ice?"

Jack and Yusei follow in and together the three seat themselves at the table. Martha turns around to give us all her hands-on-hips, frown-on-lips double combo.

"What's going on?"

Noticing the hand holding his face, she grabs Crow by the chin and looks over the bruise. "Did you get into another fight?"

Jack says nothing but snickers to himself, and gets a harsh glare from Crow.

"Uh," my hand raises slowly, "I might have done that."

"Ah," Martha breathes. She goes back to the cutting board. "'Bout time someone knocked some sense in to you."

I keep going through the freezer as Crow hollers about double standards and how he's the victim in this case of "brutal assault". Martha mockingly coos at him, saying she'll always have a special place in her heart him. Knowing he'll never win, Crow just sulks with a pout.

I settle on a bag of frozen peas and hand them to him. "So why did you guys come over?"

"I invited them for dinner," Martha cuts in.

"Yeah, we haven't had any of Martha's cooking in weeks. It's hard to get any work done without a good home cooked meal every once in a while."

"What kind of work are you doing?"

Martha's put drinks between us. All three of the guys like their coffee the same way—black.

Jack takes his turn to speak. "We're going to win it."

"Win what?"

"The World Racing Grand Prix," Yusei says, startling me a bit. "It's a dueling tournament."

I don't press on. I've realized I have very limited knowledge on the whole dueling subject. It'd be dumb to bring it up now and I don't feel comfortable enough to announce my inability with the game.

I've made a fool of myself in front of these guys twice already.

The remaining tea in my cup is gulped down. "I'm going outside, Martha."

I don't know if she doesn't care or if she just doesn't say anything so I go and sit on the porch.

The kids are home, I see, and they run feverishly around the yard. I watch them as they play that game—the one where you pretend the ground is lava and you have to hop from object to object so you won't get burnt to a crisp.

And strange as it might sound, this is my favorite time of the day.

Maybe you've watched kids play before or maybe you haven't. There's something in them that's simply breathtaking to watch, right? The way they run like little warriors on a make-believe battlefield and the way they laugh when they fall down. Even the grass stains on their clothes and liveliness on their faces makes me sigh.

"They're cute aren't they," says Crow beside me. I send him a glance. "The little rascals."

He shouts to them and they respond yelling, "Nii-chan! Nii-chan!"

They pull on his arm to drag him into the yard and on reflex he grabs mine. Now we're sucked into the game, leaping over molting lava to save ourselves.

"Go that way, go that way!"

So I follow.

"You can't move. I'll come and save you!"

So I wait.

"No, that's the dragon's lair. Don't go in there!"

So I obey.

The setting sun peeks from behind the trees, demanding an end to our fun. We root for Crow—who's winning the game, I guess—as he fends off the dragon to protect us all. Just as Martha calls us in for dinner, Crow stakes the dragon's heart with his sword and the resulting uproar is like nothing I've ever heard.

I think I'm the only one that doesn't tackle him to the ground and into a bear hug. But it does bring a smile to my face. I go up the steps instead and remind them of our awaiting supper. Once everyone's inside I shut the door and follow them to the table.

—

"I'm just saying you shouldn't have said that," I huff. "It was so embarrassing, Martha!"

She hands me another dish to dry before saying, "What? I thought it was funny!"

I scour the plate with more power than before. "Can you please just give me a heads up the next time you decide to go in matchmaker mode? And you were the only one laughing!"

"Only until your face turned the color of a tomato," she grins. "And you've got to like one of 'em, I know you do." Her smile is too devious for my tastes. "I won't bug you on which one but I know you do!"

I put the last plate on the rack and mumble that I'm leaving, only to be replied with another hearty laugh.

In the yard again, I look to the sky. It's a starless night filled with looming nimbuses huddled together. I sigh and place my head on my knees.

Then a meow brushes against the air. Out in the field, she sits staring into nowhere.

"Annie, girl," I call to her, "what are you doing?"

I scoop her into my arms. She pays me no attention and keeps staring, so my eyes follow. And I don't believe it at all.

The forest is back. Though shadowy and vague like it will disappear at any moment, I'm sure it's there. Something urges me to move closer.

But Annie hisses at a movement among the trees so I stop and squint harder.

Ghostly white with a head like flames, it stares back. A figure for sure, and possibly even a women's, she licks her fangs and grins.

She's not the golden figure and she's more than a hand.

Her arm stretches out to us and her palm opens wide.

Annie wriggles against my chest and I struggle to keep her in. So she scratches me and I mutter a few curses, watching the blood drip onto the ground.

The figure's hand drops and fades into the forest as it slowly vanishes.

"Maria!" Martha shouts. "Get inside, it's about to storm!"

And as I march up the porch steps to let Martha study my hand, my mind wraps around the white figure and why, of all things, did my cat need to chase after it.

So spoopy~ I wonder what's with the forest, huh? Haha, like I don't already know. Stay tuned to find out!

TTFN