Witching Hour, Day 3

It's the same nightmare again. It's 3AM and 85°; I'm running and sweaty and the banks of the river keep trying to absorb my feet.

My pursuer is getting closer and this time I can catch glimpses of her. A faceless woman in white. Despite her lack of eyes and her ill-defined feet, she's having no trouble with the mud. She's a creature of this place and I am not.


She reaches a long white arm towards me. Her body rushes forward even more quickly, following the line traced by her fingers. Someone is screaming. For a moment I think, "Oh, I'm screaming," but that isn't my voice. Someone is screaming...

I wake up to shouts filling the hotel room. It's Zim.