Izzy sighed as she walked into her apartment, kicking her shoes off and listening to the dull thud as they hit the titled foyer. She peeked in slightly, not eager to incur the wrath of Aunt Cassy, but it was empty. In fact, all of the lights were off, which was incredibly unusual. Figuring she must have hit a burst of inspiration with her art, and she had hit a lucky break, Izzy dragged herself through the main room, throwing a longful glance at the fridge before stumbling into her bedroom. She threw herself onto her bed with a thud, pulling her phone out of her pocket and sleepily texting Maria.

Izzy: "The date didn't go well. I'll tell you all about it later, but right now I'm going to take a nap. I'm really exhausted. I'll text you later."

She shoved the phone back in her pocket as sleep began to overtake her. Her nightmares were surprisingly absent, exhaustion keeping them at bay. Instead she drifted in and out of darkness for hours, watching the setting sun from her bedroom window as it quickly disappeared, replaced by glittering stars sprinkled across a dark sky and a bright, ethereal moon. Eventually, as she drifted back to sleep, a black cloaked figure came for her once again, running at her, screaming, reaching out their hands. Izzy knew a deadly grip and searing pain were waiting for her, but it was useless to scream, useless to run, just like always.

When the hands grabbed her however, they didn't burn. Instead it felt like an earthquake had hit her as the silhouette shook her violently back and forth, screaming her name. Izzy tried to pull herself out of their grip, but when they ripped her out of bed, she quickly realized it wasn't a dream. It was real.

As she stumbled through the darkness, pulled towards her bedroom door against her will, she grabbed onto her bed frame with all her might, her knuckles turning white from the strain and her arm burning in protest. The cloaked figure released her, and Izzy was sent flying backwards.

She tried to ignore the pain blooming in the back of her head as she quickly scanned the room for some sort of weapon, but as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she abandoned her search.

The figure had spun around, their cloak billowing around them. Long, red, frizzy hair shone like a lighthouse through the darkness, cascading around a sharp, pointed face.

"Aunt Cassy." She choked out, "Wh-whats going on? Why-"

"There's no time." She snapped. "We need to go, NOW!" She grabbed Izzy's arm again, pulling her up from the ground as she attempted to drag her forward.

"Go where?" Izzy called to the darkness, the red strands having vanished under the black cloth, but the only response she got was a tug on her arm as she was pulled closer to the door. She had never seen her aunt so scared, so frantic. Something bad was happening, but what? She dug her heels into the carpet.

"Izzy." she hissed. "There is no time for this."

.

A-at least let me get the picture." She pleaded, the thought of losing it twisting her heart. A feeling in the pit of her stomach told her they weren't coming back, and if that was true, she was not leaving without it. "If you let me get the picture, I'll even run!"

A quick, ragged sigh and her aunt released Izzy's arm again, motioning sharply towards her bed. "Go, but hurry! We haven't got much time!"

She sprinted onto her bed, throwing her pillow away and gently clutching the picture, savoring the warmth that trickled from it, wishing she could jump into it and not have to face the chaos that was unfolding.

Fear and adrenaline were coursing through her body, blurring her brain past that which sleep already had. She glanced back at her aunt, watched her as she stared intently out the window. What was going on?

Aunt Cassy quickly turned, lunging forward and grabbing Izzy's arm, cutting off her thoughts.

"I said hurry!" She snapped as she began yanking her through the door. Her spindly finger clutched Izzy's wrist with a force she didn't think possible, but she said nothing. As the seriousness of the situation was realized through that grip, her voice refused to speak.

The lights in the house were still off, but the street lights outside provided enough light to navigate, though the dim light cast large, grotesque shadows on the walls. Suddenly Izzy felt like she was thirteen again, hiding under the covers as shadows and nightmare figures merged together. Izzy took a deep breath and focused on running as she swerved to avoid side tables and chair legs while they raced through the main room. A glint of light floated in the front windows, lighting up Aunt Cassy as she ran past.

Aunt Cassy's midnight black cloak had an odd, surprisingly bright symbol on the side, it's pure white color making it somehow seem more eerie. She had seen it before of course, her uncles occasionally showing up in the middle of the night, the symbol attached to their sleeves, but something about the darkness surrounding them just made it seem much more sinister, like it was staring at her, watching her.

It was a white eye with a circle around it.

Aunt Cassy came to a halt, Izzy running into her back with a thud before crashing onto the ground.

"Get up." Aunt Cassy stated coldly as the click of the deadbolt was heard.

Izzy used the shoe rack as support to lift herself up, but when she reached for her own shoes, her aunt ripped her away and out the door.

"Bu-but, shoes!"

"You won't need them." She snapped before adding, "No time."

Izzy was pulled down the porch steps and out into the chilly, crisp sea air. It nipped as her arms, and her feet froze against the cold, damp stone of the street.

Suddenly her aunt stopped, sending Izzy crashing into her once again. She could feel the cold sweat on her back as she took a step back. She leaned over, peering around her aunt's tall frame.

Three black cloaked figures had stepped out from the darkness. Aunt Cassy pulled her hood back, her fiery hair falling across her shoulders. Her face looked like stone, determination etched across it.

"It's time Cassandra." The middle figure announced as he took another step forward and removed his hood. Cold blue eyes and blonde hair were visible in the wrought iron street light he stood under. He glanced at Izzy, extending a hand, his crescent moon scar shining silver under the pitch dark night sky.

"Uncle Gethen, what's going on?" Izzy tried to pull her arm out of the death grip, but to no avail.

Something about this seemed incredibly sinister, incredibly unreal, but she was safe right? They were her family, her blood. They would never hurt her. So why did it feel like she had reached a new level of nightmares, like she had never woken up?

She glanced at her aunt's face, which was as icy and hard as Uncle Gethen's eyes. Her instincts told her it was not only incredibly real, but impossibly dangerous, urging her to run as quickly as possible. She pinched her arm a few times, begging her body to wake up.

This can't be real.