Coil of Worlds

After class Lara was quiet, mulling over the dream when Becky—both a friend and her roommate—tugged on her arm and pulled her to a stop.

Startled out of her thoughts, she looked over and found Becky scowling at her. In turn, Lara was once again struck by how much she envied her friend’s athletic ability and great body. Because she was on the women’s rugby team, Becky was in superb physical condition. Her roommate was several inches taller and several sizes smaller than Lara. Even though she wished she had her friend’s fit body, her tendency to snub any physical activity left her rather plump and out of shape. She was, in a word, lazy.

“I asked you the same question three times. What in the world are you thinking about?”

She shrugged, uncomfortable with the question. It had been a dream, but somehow it had turned into more than that for her. It left her feeling uneasy. Lara felt like the dreams needed explained, analyzed. She shifted her eyes away and began walking across the grass again. They were almost to the cafeteria where they met their friends every day for lunch.

Becky caught up with her and asked again, concern entering her usually optimistic voice, “Hey, what’s up? Did something happen over the break?”

After a moment of weighing the benefits of telling her friend, she answered slowly, “No, spring break was great. It’s just a long story. I had a weird dream last night. A crazy, off-the-rails dream.”

Without realizing it, she shook her head back and forth as she recalled the pieces of her dreams. She corrected herself, “I actually had two dreams.”

She struggled to put her disjointed thoughts into words. “It really felt real, you know? But they were both only a dream. I know that. I keep repeating that to myself. It was a dream. But…The second one took up right where the first left off.” She trailed off, knowing full well she wasn’t explaining her unease adequately. Lara frowned and scratched her nose, recalling the two girls quivering in fright. They had been so terribly afraid of her.

She murmured, “It was strange.”

“Can you remember anything about them?” asked Becky, her eyes alight with interest, leaning in to hear her answer.

“Yeah, that is what’s weird about it all. I remember everything.”

Becky caught the door as another student held it open for them. As Lara went by, her friend gave her a searching look. “Well, tell me about it over lunch. I’m starving. I didn’t eat breakfast this morning. I’m hoping Jonathan saved our table for us already.”

Later that night, Lara was putting on music so she could relax before going to sleep when she remembered she still hadn’t done her reading assignment due the next day. Growling at the unfairness of having homework over spring break, she grabbed her history book and crawled into bed to read. She'd at least skim the chapter as she hated feeling lost during class. afraid the professor would call on her. But a few pages in, Lara fell asleep with her head on the book.

A riot of sound accosted her, the volume so loud Lara was unable to hear her own thoughts. Sounds echoed off the cavern walls, causing the clamor to crescendo to a deafening roar. With its onslaught, she looked around at the confusing swirl of colors, trying to put to words what she was seeing.

Her brain disentangled the tableau before her, and the blur materialized into a thick mass of bodies where total pandemonium held sway. The press of bodies held her a temporary prisoner where she stood, making it impossible to see past a couple yards in any direction. Finally, the never-ending movement took shape, and Lara beheld people battling each other with swords.

Swords?

Lara blinked a few times to clear her vision, but it didn’t change the scene around her. Lara stood motionless and stared, gaping at the people who held real, metal swords. As she watched the smooth but brutal movements, Lara admitted even a person as ignorant about weapons as her recognized the skill these individuals displayed.

She studied how the smooth, graceful moves resulted in a macabre sort of dance while long, deadly blades ripped and hacked through skin and muscles. As the dance continued from one person to the next, bodies fell where they stood a second before and blood flew in every direction.

Blood.

She grunted at the force of the realization that hit her. Adrenaline flooded her system, and Lara tried to find a place where she wouldn’t see it. But the blood was everywhere, covering every surface her eyes fell upon.

She took a deep breath to calm herself and gagged as her stomach rebelled at the smell that slid to the forefront of her awareness. The combination of sweat, blood, and earth exuded an odor pungent in its strength. She clasped her hand to her mouth as she tried to halt the bile rising in her throat.

Lara’s overwhelmed senses were forgotten when her gaze landed on the man approaching from a short distance away. She stared, afraid to take her eyes off him. He was easily over six feet tall, had a broad, barrel-shaped chest, and sweat dripped off his nose, giving the definition of a Viking warrior new meaning. His armor held enough dents to show it had done its job. Dark, red blood was sprayed liberally across his armor and every inch of bare skin.

Lara tried to swallow, her throat having gone dry. He was largely uninjured, all the blood coming from his fallen enemies. She trembled as her gaze trailed down to where he carried a sword dripping with blood in one large hand. His other held a smaller but no less lethal knife.

She took a step back in fear because none of that was the scariest part. Those battle-crazed eyes were drilling into hers, and the warrior stalked toward her.

Pure terror gripping her, she scrambled backward, only to trip over something that softened her landing. Looking down, she screamed long and loud. She’d tripped over a body; a dead, human body. The blank, death stare held Lara captive before she rolled away with a screech, completely unnerved.

Wrenching her gaze from the dead man back to the battle-lusting warrior gunning for her, she saw him locked in an intense sword fight with someone else. But then something caught her attention. A twist of cloth revealed the nature of the second fighter. It wasn’t a man but a woman.

Trying to move her petrified body, she muttered to herself, “Lara, even if this is a dream, you can’t just sit here in the open. Get up, move, and hide.”

Seeking a place to lay low, she dodged the falling bodies and snuck around the people fighting. Like a rat, she scrambled on all four for seconds at a time. Despite it all, she almost got mowed down because she wasn’t quick enough. Lara missed being skewered by two tiny inches.

Unable to stop herself with the sudden influx of stimuli and the adrenaline pumping through her body, tears ran unchecked down her cheeks. The bodies, the blood, and the sounds of people lying in pain on the blood-soaked cavern floor were too much to process. She kept her face averted from the corpses lying in every position around her.

In response to a spine-chilling war cry behind her, Lara snapped her head around. It saved her life. The man’s blade went through the space her head had just been. Dropping to her knees with a screech, her hand brushed the strap of a broken shield. In a desperate move, she hefted the shield, managing to deflect the sword moving in for a killing blow. Pain rippled up her shield arm and shot up through her shoulder, making her cry out.

With her arm turned numb, Lara could only watch with wide, stricken eyes as the man swung his sword toward her for the last time. At the last moment, she squeezed her eyes closed, unable to watch the instrument of her death come any closer.

There was no warning before she was crushed into the ground by something heavy. Her breath left her in a loud whoosh.

It took her a moment for her scattered senses to figure out what happened. She’d been flattened by the body of the man who almost killed her. She was thankful the shield separated her from the Viking warrior. Larger than her five-foot, six-inch frame, the man’s body covered her from head to toe, making it impossible for her to move beneath the dead weight. At least the shield allowed her a modicum of room to draw breath, though it was nowhere near enough.

Trembling, she waited to see if she was next. Several moments passed before understanding dawned. Nobody could see her beneath the man. She was safe for the moment.

Twisting her head into an uncomfortable position—the only part of her body she could move, Lara watched what was happening around her from beneath the man’s shoulder. As time passed, Lara pinpointed the differences between the two sides fighting. One side had straight black hair while the other side had blond hair. She gasped in recognition. These black-haired people resembled the three she had met the night before in her dreams.

What was going on? Was this yet another dream? Why would she dream of a battle of this intensity and with this much death? What the hell was wrong with her?

She noticed those with black hair were also more slender and paler in comparison to the blond fighters. The blond men—and all the blond warriors were men—had the same physique as the man on top of her.

Her eyes narrowed when she spotted another detail. The blond-haired men carried torches, lighting the cavern walls with dancing shadows. Though different colors, all their armor held the same emblem on the crest—a flame.

Something warm soaked through her clothes. She wished for denial, but luck wasn’t on her side, and Lara whimpered as tears threatened to fall once more. God, it was the man’s blood.

Borderline hysterical, she tried heaving the Viking off her. Although his heavy body never budged, the man’s head moved enough for her to feel the small puff of air escaping his mouth.

Relief coursed through her. The man wasn’t dead. He was unconscious.

She sent a short but fervent prayer to God, thanking him for the small favor before a horrible thought hit her. What if he woke up while she was still trapped under him?

Fearing the man’s unwanted attention, her pathetic struggle ceased. Light-headed from her exertions, she filled her lungs with air. Her dizziness receded with each breath she took.

She had no idea how long she lay there trapped, but she intuitively knew when the battle began winding down. The clash of weapons and war cries became less unnerving. With the battle grinding to a halt, the screams for help from the wounded rose in volume. The heartbreaking moans of the people lying in close vicinity to her were fast becoming more than she could withstand.

It grated on her nerves because it proved this was more real than she could ever have imagined. She felt like screaming, not in pain but in sheer terror.

An indeterminate amount of time passed before the battle was over. The pale, black-haired warriors began walking through the bodies, turning people over. Some were taken away while others were left for dead.

The weight above her lifted, the suddenness startling her into taking huge gulps of air.

When Lara pushed herself up in order to scramble up from the ground, she let loose another pitiful scream. A pair of golden eyes stared down at her. When she heard an animalistic growl, her vision expanded to take in the entire face.

This set belonged to an enormous, black cat. And beneath those eyes sat two rows of long, sharp teeth.

She froze, not even daring to breathe. Focused exclusively on the large, snarling cat, Lara didn’t notice the man standing beside it. She felt a sharp prick on her neck and shifted her head to the left without moving any other muscle. She inhaled when she saw a black-haired man holding a long spear next to her skin.

Somewhere beneath all the fear she was feeling, the nonsensical nature of everything that happened caused a cauldron of anger to well up.

Yelling at no one in particular, she screamed, “What the hell is wrong with everyone?”

From where she sat, she waved her arms around and glared at the man, uncaring the damage the spear might inflict. The separate, more logical part of her brain knew she’d later shake from her own stupidity, but for that one increment of time Lara was beyond caution. To hell with the consequences.

The man tensed. Far more leery after her display of temper, he stepped back to safer ground, though the spear never left her neck. When the cat growled again, she saw no alternative except to follow the unspoken command. She clambered up, then swayed on her feet. The short rant burned through the last of her energy, and she deflated. Emotions left her in a whoosh of air, leaving behind a shell of muscles and bones.

When she stood for a few seconds, trying to reorient herself, the spear struck her in warning. Lara stumbled over the field of bodies and pooling blood toward the rapidly constructed holding pen for the defeated blond giants. While working to keep her balance between the bodies littering the field, Lara counted thirty men already in the holding pen. More warriors were marched in its direction. She shuddered as she crossed the bloodied cavern floor. There were so many more dead or dying warriors on the ground. Her thoughts on the sheer waste of life, her shoulders slumped further in exhaustion.

Jolted out of her thoughts when the black cat leapt in front of her to lead the way, she half-heartedly snorted. As if she didn’t know where they were taking her.

A piece of material caught her eye, and she shortened her stride to look down at herself. Her lungs constricted. Her pajamas were unrecognizable. Blood coated the entire right side of her body. She detected numerous scratches and the beginning of bruises on her bare arms and legs. She must have received them while she was running for her life. A combination of blood and mud covered her bare feet.

Lara heard nervous giggling and looked up to find its source. She frowned; the sound was out of place amidst so much death. When it stopped in mid-giggle, anxiety swept through her.

God help her. The obscene sound had come from her.

A few of the nearby warriors watched her with wary, almost fearful eyes. The sight made Lara barely able to contain another giggle, and she pinned her lips together to stop the sound from escaping. These warriors, who were holding their weapons and covered in bloody armor—the conquerors of the men built like the Northmen of old, were afraid of her. Her.

Prodded in the back, she pushed back her fluctuating emotions and shuffled toward the holding pen. When she was outside the crude gate, the cat turned to stand guard.

Standing guard… There was really no other way to describe the animal’s behavior. She watched with detached interest as the gate squeaked open. She was roughly shoved past the threshold.

Looking around in fear of the men’s reaction to her presence, it took several minutes for Lara to realize where she was. She scrambled out of bed and hurriedly inspected her body for the blood and scratches she’d received from the battlefield. Her shorts and t-shirt were in pristine condition, albeit a little wrinkled.

When she did a quick check of her body, she found she didn’t have a scratch anywhere. She blew out a shaky sigh, relishing the ability to breathe in clean air.

Of course, she’d had a nightmare.

Still rattled, Lara flipped the light on, hoping that stripping the room of shadows would make her feel safer. She was breathing too quickly and her heart was keeping time. She put herself through a couple of breathing exercises and forced her brain not to think about all the violence. Instead, she thought of the things she needed to do the next day.

When her breathing returned to normal, she swiped a book off her bookshelf and went out to the sofa to read. Lara was far too revved up to fall asleep any time soon.

Lara woke up the next morning to Becky tapping her shoulder. When she pried her eyes open, Becky remarked dryly, “Let me guess, you had another dream.”

Yawning, Lara nodded and lifted her head to glance at the digital clock on the wall. Seeing her turn around, Becky assured her, “Don’t worry, you have plenty of time before class starts. I thought I better wake you before I left. Knowing you, I figured you didn’t plan on falling asleep on the sofa.”

Though far from comfortable, Lara was glad she had finally fallen asleep. Her voice still raspy from sleep, she said, “Thanks Becky, I have three classes today, so I can’t afford to sleep in.”

She mentally spat out a few choice words. She still had about twenty pages left of the chapter from last night to read. Lara just knew they were going to have a quiz. She groaned aloud as she ran her fingers through her tangled hair.

Her friend looked at her with curiosity, then shrugged. “Well, I have to run. Make sure you tell me about your dream later, okay?”

“Sure, see you later,” she said with a tight smile.

Her roommate’s words brought the memory crashing back with a fury. Remembering in great detail the feel of the body she tripped over, Lara shuddered in revulsion. Although the man was dead before she touched him, he’d still been warm. Knowing how close she’d been to a body that had held a living, breathing person made her shiver in reaction even now, hours later. Uneasiness crept in and she shoved the nightmare back behind a thick, impenetrable door in her mind.

When Lara pushed herself off the sofa cushion with both arms, her right arm gave out beneath her, making her gasp in surprise and pain. She lifted and rotated her arm, testing it for mobility. Frowning as she walked into her bedroom, Lara scanned her memories from the day before, trying to recall if she’d lifted anything that would have caused the soreness.

She twisted the water faucet and waited for the ice-cold water to heat, resolutely turning off her swirling thoughts. When she stepped under the spray, another surprise greeted her.

There was a tender spot on her back as well. She rolled her shoulders and let the spray massage both her back and arm. When she moved her arm experimentally and felt no residual soreness, Lara smiled. After drying off with a fluffy towel, she turned toward the mirror in the vanity area to look and found a small bruise in the middle of her back.

What would cause the bruise and a sore arm? Again, Lara ran through everything she’d done the day before as she got ready for class. When she left the room a short while later with her backpack over her shoulder, Lara still had no idea.