Valerie`s office is foreboding at night. Shadows creep down the walls, cast by the vines of plants. Tons of them — nestled in pots — dangle from the ceiling by chains. At the slightest shift of air, they sway and their chains rattle, filling the room with a haunting melody. The melody of a a gaol-bound lich; of armored skeletons marching.

　　It sends goosebumps crawling over Avery`s skin and resonates with the pain of her dislocated shoulder. She sinks further into the sofa — unable to do more than exist. I`m safe here. I`m safe.

　　Her usual internal contrarian fails to prod her: maybe it`s too exhausted to carry on torturing her. Still, her thoughts aren`t silent. They wax and wane, just like the moonlight outside shimmering through shifting clouds. Hazy, ethereal, unstable. Teasing the outskirts of sleep.

　　With a few more seconds, she`s gone. Falling through her mind. She jolts up, out from the depths of the cushion`s warmth and onto the edge of the sofa. No! I can`t sleep. Not yet. Not until the police get here.

　　Tatters of her pajama pants stick to her leg, partially encased within scabbed over scrapes. Her movement jostles them around; forces them to tug against the scabs. She lets out a hiss and unpins some fabric that had been caught underneath her. "Ow."

　　Falling back into the cushion, she looks about the room. Nothing`s changed since this afternoon. The plants may have wiggled a little, but—

　　Near the doorway — beyond moonlight`s reach — emerald eyes glower from the shoulders of a giant enveloped in shadow. The outline of a sword dangles from the monster`s grasp.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

　　We were never safe. Now you`ve backed us into a corner and we`re going to die.

　　Avery`s heart lurches. She struggles to push free of the sofa with her one good arm, but a moment later and she`s on her feet. The shadow steps forward.

　　Avery backs around the sofa, away from the approaching shade. "No. No, please no."

　　Another step forward; a reaching hand.

　　Her butt bumps into solid stone: the wall full of windows behind Valerie`s desk. She cowers against it, throwing a hand across its rough surface. Searching for anything. A knob for a nonexistent door, a window latch despite windows not being made of stone. A weapon.

　　All she finds is a lack of hope: burnt as fuel for the pain that rips through her body. A body that longs for her to give up.

　　Then the figure takes one more step, passing the boundary between dark and light; clouds part and — with new vigor — the moon washes away all shadows within its reach.

　　The giant: actually a woman, clad in a priest`s cassock. The sword: a cane. The emerald eyes: not even hers. A cat perches on her shoulder like a gargoyle, watching everything. Brown hair — more frizz than anything — zigzags out from the priest`s head, down to just past her shoulders to frame a gaunt, uncertain face. She stares at Avery; her lips quiver, uncertain if they`ll spew words or grief-stricken cries.

　　In the end, she does both. Tears flood her face. She bunches a sleeve over her palm and she scrubs them away, but they keep coming. "I-I`m sorry. So s-sorry." She cries.

　　Cowering turns to confusion. Tendrils that locked her in fear moments before now drift away: taut wires uncoiling to merely float, like a field of seaweed. Still there — threatening to drag her back into panic.

　　Avery stares, eye`s and mind blank blank. Her brain refuses to dissect meaning from the sight in front of her; she might as well try her hand at translating an arcane spell scroll or fighting an elder lich. "What? What is this? Who are you?" She says.