Between Life and Death

Prologue

         Running. That’s the last thing I remember from that night, the night I ended things with my fiance. I remember very clearly up to that moment. I had gone to his restaurant, the one that was failing, that I’d begged him to find a investor for. It really was a wonderful idea, but he was so stubborn, he wanted to do it all on his own. I finally gave up after he received his second bank notice that if he didn’t pay those bills, he would lose the restaurant. I remember so clearly telling him this was his last chance, either find someone to help, by selling or finding an investor, or I was leaving. He didn’t like that, but I knew he couldn’t have done this.

         I left the restaurant that night, single for the first time in four years, ready to tell my best friend everything that went down, the screaming match he'd tried to start, how I'd just left and didn’t look back. I knew she would just sit and listen, as she always did any time I needed to rant about Jackson. Then we would drink a bottle of wine between the two of us and fall asleep on the couch watching whatever stupid show was on that night.

         I don’t remember running right away. No, I don’t think I was afraid when I first left the restaurant. It was dark, and I normally would stay and wait for Jackson to walk me home if I stayed passed sunset. While it was a nice restaurant, it wasn’t in the best part of town. Granted, there wasn’t really a good part of town to begin with, so it made me nervous walking through the streets alone anyway. I remember it was winter, fresh snow on the ground, the lake in the park was frozen over, and I could see my breath in the air. It was early December, so I wasn’t surprised when I started my walk through the park and saw that the “No Skating” sign was posted around the four main entrances to the lake. In the summer it was filled with small boats and children playing in the shallow parts, and in deeper winter one could see families skating across the ice. But this early? It was far too dangerous. The ice was still too thin and our small town had learned the hard way several years ago that children especially didn’t think before trying to cross a semi-frozen lake…

         I was halfway around the lake when I heard a rustling noise coming from the bushes. I assumed it was a cat, or perhaps a raccoon. As the rustling grew louder, my thoughts drifted to a bigger dog, maybe. When the monstrous growling came out of the throat of whatever was in those bushes, I began to run. I ran along the path until I couldn’t hear the growling anymore, yet I felt a strange presence following me. I kept a quick pace but didn’t continue to run until a strange man stepped into the path, smirking wickedly.

         “Well, well” came his deep voice, rough and scratchy as it was. I couldn’t see him very well, all I could tell was he was tall, maybe six or so feet. Far taller than my five foot four. I began to back up, shaking from the cold and the fear of him. He lifted something up, spinning it between his fingers, and I knew I was doomed. I knew what he was holding, and I knew who this was. Well, not by name, but I knew his reputation. I spun around and started running, but I didn’t get far before a large animal leapt over my head, charging at the man. For the first, and last, time that night, I screamed and took off.

         My feet strayed off the path, but I didn’t care. Full panic took over as I heard the ripping, tearing of flesh and the blood curdling scream that the man let out as whatever had been hunting me tore into his body. Brown hair blowing wildly around my face, covering my eyes, I didn’t see until too late the lake under my feet. A new kind of panic froze me where I stood as I listened to the ice slowly crack beneath my weight. Tears slowly slipped down my face as I began to realize my fate.

         The sound of whimpering pulled me from my panic, and I looked over my shoulder to see a giant black wolf, no doubt standing as tall as I did when it was on all fours, standing on the edge of the lake. It seemed panicked too, the fear behind it’s eyes startled me, made me feel drawn toward it. I knew those eyes, but from where…?

         The giant paws of the wolf pawed at the ground beneath it, the same spot over and over, as if beckoning me back toward it. I slowly turned and followed the same path back that I had used to get on the ice. Surely that would hold?

         About twenty feet from safety, the ice cracked so loudly I flinched back and the wolf whined loudly. Before I could try to run across, I felt the cold water hitting my body just as I saw the wolf lunge onto the ice to catch me. The last thing I remember was the silhouette of the wolf against the full moon and a pained howl that likely would have chilled the air before everything went black.