Angela lay in a hospital bed, her body and mind unresponsive. A nurse came to replace the IV bag, and left, turning the lights out behind her.
When she woke, Angela would remember being hit by another car that ran a red light. She would remember the world swirling around her as her car spun through the intersection before slamming into a traffic light post. She would vaguely remember paramedics rushing to stabilize her vitals.
She wouldn't remember her traumatized heart stopping, nor would she remember the paramedics coaxing it into beating again. She wouldn't remember the lengthy surgery that followed.
Nor would she remember the dream. If she had, she would have been told that coma patients don't dream.
In a way, it was true. This was no ordinary dream.
There were distant voices, chanting. Her world was blackness, at first. Then it seemed there was something there, in the distance. She concentrated, trying to see through the darkness.
Her mind was uncooperative, but she forced herself to focus, and the darkness began to clear, as though it were a fog.
In the distance, she could see a stand of trees, and above it a full moon, shining brightly. Between her and the trees was a cornfield, the corn grown higher than the top of her head.
"I like this," a deep male voice said from behind her.
She turned, startled. Between her and another stand of trees stood a man, dressed all in black. He was well-muscled and attractive, with a strong jawline and sharp eyes.
But the sight of him drove fear into her heart, and she had to force herself to breathe.
His eyes searched hers, "I hope you'll be able to provide me with a challenge, Little Rabbit."
She wanted to run, but her legs were frozen.
"Go home. We'll meet again."
Angela would not remember this dream.
Strangely enough, the man in black wouldn't either.386Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡeuKn9bDvZj
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