A Nightmare
A sharp voice sliced through the murmuring crowd in the grand hall, echoing like a blade against my nerves. My body stiffened instinctively. I rose from my chair, heart pounding, every pair of eyes seemingly drawn to me as I waited for the anchor to reveal the winner.
“The title for ‘The Country Vet’ goes to…”
Each pause between his words stretched longer, heavier—until it felt as if time itself was holding its breath. My pulse thundered in my ears. My palms were slick with sweat. Thoughts collided in my mind, wild and chaotic, thickening the air around me into something I could almost touch.
“…to Dr. Elara Vance.”
The tension shattered. My name rang in my ears like a distant melody, both unreal and exhilarating. I walked through the crowd, my heels clicking softly against the marble floor, each step echoing in rhythm with my heartbeat. The trophy gleamed under the lights as I accepted it—its weight firm and reassuring in my hands, as if it already belonged on the top shelf of my clinic.
Then I looked up.
The anchor’s voice was still droning, listing my achievements—but something about him had changed. My breath caught in my throat. His face… was no longer human. Coarse brown hair covered his cheeks. Two curved horns protruded from his forehead. His mouth twitched unnaturally, stretching into a smile that revealed sharp, uneven teeth.
A chill crawled down my spine. My gaze darted across the hall—only to realize that everyone, every single face in the audience, had morphed into grotesque, goat-like creatures. Their vacant eyes glimmered under the stage lights.
I stumbled backward, trembling, my heart hammering so loudly it drowned out every other sound. Confusion and terror clawed at my mind. What was happening to me?
Then, one by one, the creatures rose from their chairs. Their movements were slow, deliberate—almost ritualistic. Their eyes locked onto the prize in my hands, hungry and unblinking. A low murmur spread through the hall, an eerie blend of bleats and whispers.
I kept backing away, step by shaky step, until I was trapped—surrounded by the monstrous herd. My fingers clenched around the trophy as if it could protect me. My breath came in ragged gasps.
With every ounce of courage left in me, I shut my eyes tight. This isn’t real. This isn’t real.
When I finally dared to open them, the hall was gone. I was back in my room—sitting upright in bed, drenched in cold sweat. My chest rose and fell violently, heartbeats echoing like thunder in my ears.
The light of the morning sun streamed through the window, its warmth nudging me awake. What had begun as a simple dream had twisted into a nightmare that still clung to my thoughts.
Wiping the sweat from my face, I slowly pushed myself out of bed, trying to shake off the lingering haze of dreamland. When I opened the bedroom door, I was greeted by the sight of countless boxes scattered across the floor, stacked haphazardly throughout the house.
The reality of my new life sank in—the struggle of shifting from the bustling urban chaos to the quiet rural side of the country. The boxes towered like obstacles, blocking my way to the kitchen.
After dragging and shifting several of them aside, I finally made my way through. The familiar scent of coffee soon filled the air, wrapping around me like a comforting blanket. Its rich aroma soothed the tension still lingering from the nightmare.
Just as I was about to take my first sip, my phone buzzed sharply against my leg, the vibration startling me. I pulled it out of my pocket to see the name Ms. Travers – Property Dealer flashing on the screen.
“Good morning, Dr. Elara,” came a soft, melodic voice. I hadn’t expected a property dealer to sound so gentle.
“Good morning, Ms. Travers,” I replied.
“I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be at your doorstep within an hour,” she said cheerfully. Her words jogged my memory—I had nearly forgotten that today I was supposed to look for a place to set up my new clinic.
“I’ll be waiting for you,” I said, before ending the call. Taking a slow sip of my coffee, I felt a quiet sense of anticipation stirring within me—perhaps this small town would mark the beginning of something new.
///
A small wave of cold air slipped through the half-open window, brushing against my skin like an unexpected whisper. The chill struck me straight to the bone, dragging me out of the hazy comfort of half-dreams. What a cup of coffee usually took minutes to do, the morning breeze managed in seconds. Goosebumps rose across my arms, and I drew the blanket tighter for a moment before reaching for the mug resting beside me.
The first sip of coffee sent a trail of warmth down my throat, battling the cold that lingered in the air. Steam curled up lazily from the cup, dancing in the golden sunlight that filtered through the curtains. The scent of roasted beans filled the room—earthy, rich, and grounding.
But even as I savoured it, my gaze wandered toward the living room, where towering stacks of boxes loomed in silence. Their uneven shadows stretched across the floor, turning the small house into a maze of cardboard walls. Some boxes were labelled in neat handwriting—Medical Supplies, Clinic Documents, Books—while others stood unmarked, their contents a mystery even to me.
Moving from the city to this quiet countryside had seemed easy on paper. Finding the right house and a space for my new clinic had felt like victory. But now, surrounded by this chaos of half-opened boxes and unfamiliar stillness, the reality was settling in. Starting over wasn’t as simple as it looked.
I took another sip, letting the warmth of the coffee ground me as I watched sunlight slowly crawl across the floor. The house was quiet—too quiet—but beneath that silence, I could almost sense a heartbeat, faint and steady, as if the walls themselves were waiting for something.
The faint sound of the heartbeat faded away, swallowed by the sharp chime of the doorbell. The noise jolted me back to reality. Pulling my hands away from the warmth of the coffee mug, I set it gently on the shelf and began weaving my way through the maze of boxes that filled the hallway.
“Hey!”
The bright, cheerful voice reached me just as my hand touched the doorknob. The sound alone made my lips curve into an instinctive smile. My heartbeat quickened—not from fear, but anticipation. I hurried to open the door.
As it creaked open halfway, a bouquet of vibrant flowers appeared first, their colours bursting against the dull tones of the boxes behind me. A pair of hands held them out, trembling slightly. Then, as the flowers lowered, the face behind them was revealed.
My smile widened instantly. There she was—standing right in front of me. A flood of warmth and memories washed over me. Without a second thought, I pushed the bouquet aside and threw my arms around her, holding her tight.
“Hey—hey! You need to let me go,” she said with a breathless laugh, her voice muffled against my shoulder. I realized I was squeezing her so hard that she could barely breathe.
Reluctantly, I loosened my grip, letting fresh air rush between us. She inhaled deeply, her cheeks flushed.
“Piper Cruz…” I whispered her name like a long-lost melody. And before I could stop myself, I pulled her into another hug, this one softer but just as full of emotion.
She took a small step back, her gaze wandering past me to take in the scene inside. The reddish-golden morning light spilled through the windows, wrapping around her like a soft halo. It touched her eyes, making them glimmer with an amber warmth. But as her gaze moved across the room, that gentle glow turned sharp—her expression shifting the moment she saw the boxes stacked everywhere.
“You’ve been here for about a week,” she said, her tone half stern, half teasing, “and you still haven’t managed to unpack?”
Even her irritation sounded beautiful to my ears. I couldn’t help but smile. “I missed you… missed you so much.” The words slipped out, simple but full of everything I’d been holding in. Just seeing her—hearing her voice—felt like breathing after being underwater.
Her features softened instantly. “I missed you too,” she said, her voice calm now, carrying that familiar warmth I’d almost forgotten.
“I’m happy you decided to come here,” she added, glancing around before meeting my eyes again.
“I didn’t know where else to go,” I admitted quietly. “I didn’t have the strength left to fight them… so I ran.”
She stepped closer, the corners of her lips lifting into a reassuring smile. “I’m glad you ran—and that you ran straight to me.”
Something in her voice—steady, kind, unwavering—untangled the knot that had been sitting in my chest for weeks. Her presence felt like sunlight after a storm. In that moment, I understood exactly why she was my best friend—the one constant I could always return to.
Seeing Piper again after so many years filled me with a warmth I hadn’t felt in a long time. It had been nearly a decade since our graduation—the day she decided to open a bakery here, while I set off to chase my dream of becoming a veterinarian.
Now, watching her unpack beside me, all the memories came rushing back—the first time our eyes met as strangers, the long nights spent studying together, and the last meal we shared before walking down our separate paths. It was as if the years between us had quietly dissolved.
“Elara,” she said, halfway through emptying another box, “since you’re new in town, why don’t you come to this year’s Main Street Mixer?”
“The Main Street Mixer?” I repeated, arching a brow. “What’s that?”
She chuckled lightly. “It’s a sort of fair we hold every year to raise funds for the upcoming harvest season. Everyone in town sets up little stalls and helps the farmers.” She folded an empty box neatly as she spoke, her tone cheerful and full of that familiar enthusiasm.
I smiled faintly. “That sounds… a little boring. Besides, I still need to finish setting up my clinic.” I stacked the folded boxes beside the wall, brushing the dust off my hands.
“Well,” she said, her eyes twinkling, “you could promote your clinic there while helping me with my stall. Two birds, one stone.”
I shot her a playful look. “Don’t you have your husband to help you set it up?”
She pouted dramatically. “There’s no fun doing it with him. Come on, please? It’ll be like old times.”
She tilted her head and gave me that familiar, mischievous smile—the one she used to flash whenever she wanted to get her way. I tried to stay firm, but the way her face lit up, all soft eyes and sunshine, made it almost impossible not to smile back.
