The Elemental Four

[1] Run, Zeya, Run!

Four Years Earlier

Zeya's POV

She charged down the dark and seemingly-endless hall as fast as her wearied legs would take her. The pure terror racing through her veins and the thundering sounds of approaching footsteps fueled her adrenaline.

The thing behind her made a horribly loud noise. It was somewhere in-between nails on a chalkboard and a child's whiny scream. It felt like a knife to her ears.

Zeya threw herself around the first corner at such a rapid speed that she slammed, hard, into the concrete wall. Instead of wallowing in pain she used the wall to thrust herself onward. The goal was to keep moving before the creature pursing caught up.

Zeya had been successful in distancing herself up until she sailed around the next corner. She rushed onward and banged head-first into a wall that seemed to materialize out of nowhere; she had sprinted directly into a dead end.

"Help!" She screeched, banging her fists violently against the wall. "Someone please!" Sweat trickled from her forehead as she twisted around to face the darkness; to face the monster. The figure that had been hunting her closed in.

Though Zeya couldn't see any identifying features, she knew it was there to do a single thing: to kill her.

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A small yelp of terror escaped her lips as Zeya's body jolted upright. She was torn from her nightmare and flung back into the real world. Running an unstable hand through her hair, she leaned against her headboard and wheezed until she was able to catch her breath.

"It was just a nightmare," she murmured to herself, as if saying it aloud would make her fear weaken. Zeya peered around her room, her mind so overtaken by her terror that she thought she could make out a figure hiding in the corner.

She practically dove for the lamp on her bedside table, clicking it on with impressive speed. Of course there was nothing there.

Zeya jerked her comforter off of her legs and swung them over the side of her bed. She wanted to get out of her room as fast as possible. However, her head pounded just like it would if it had actually been cracked against a concrete wall. She held it in her hands and inhaled deeply.

"It was just a nightmare." Zeya realized each time she reiterated the statement she believed it less and less.

In an attempt to distract herself from both the pain and her nightmare she leapt from her bed and shuffled into the bathroom (making sure to dodge all the clothes, trash, and textbooks she had strewn around the room). When she flicked on the light, Zeya was shocked by her reflection.

She was coated from head to toe in sweat. She looked as if she had just come back from a run. Truly repulsed with herself Zeya knew she had to take a shower before she even dared to show her face in public.

The water was warm and it felt soothing against her tight skin. It always took extra effort to get into the shower but, when it came time to get out, she didn't want to leave; nothing felt better in that moment.

But as all moments, eventually it had to end. The conclusion of her relaxing shower came when she realized that if she stayed in any longer her pruney fingers would become as dry as raisins.

After she got out, she dried her hair and slipped on a t-shirt and jeans. Oddly enough, when she had finished changing, her mind traveled back briefly to her nightmare and a chill crawled down her spine. She glanced over her shoulder at the empty corner but the feeling didn't dissipate.