Sub Rosa

She is standing in a field of long grass as the sun sets rapidly in the distance.  Her hands are closed, firmly clasped around something small and she must not open them.

There is something moving in the grass.  She knows this, but she does not know how she knows this.  She only knows that she knows.

The sun melts into the horizon – too fast, she thinks – and as she opens her hands, a thousand black birds burst from the grass.  Their wings beat the air furiously as they scatter, a wave of black wings and feathers filling the air.  Then, they merge, becoming one great sheet of pitch-dark nightfall, and the clouds turn the color of the blood streaming from her hands.

The clouds creep across the sky like bloated centipedes and, dizzy, she looks at the moon.  It moves ever closer, sharpening and carving into a pale, almost feminine face that stares into her and through her with dark, fathomless eyes.  It is a male face, though, with dark, deep lines trailing from those long-lashed dark eyes and long hair that melts into the night.

I know this face, she thinks and he glides ever closer, raising his hand.

His touch is like a soft, warm whisper and she can feel the birds beating in his heart as the clouds crawl across him.  “What would you do to protect him?” the man asks, his eyes seeping slowly red.

She wants to cry because something’s wrong, everything’s wrong, and she can’t move a muscle even as he leans in to kiss her.

The lines on his face melt away as he becomes someone else, someone more familiar.  It’s a welcome relief and she smiles as she raises her bloody hands to embrace him.  Her palms gleam white, the blood gone, and he smiles at her in return.

“I...” she starts to say.

“How far would you go?” he asks, leaning closer as his eyes grow redder, a necklace of curving tomoe swirling in each of his eyes.  Each bead on the twin black chains whirl dizzyingly, the points blurring into blades and then stars.  The fingers on her face are suddenly ice cold, boring through her.

He pulls her close, his teeth clashing against hers as he kisses her roughly with freezing lips.

“No!” she moans, because she knows. “No, no...”

He then embraces her and a thousand spikes of ice shoot through her body.  She screams ‘no’ over and over, though some part of her knows it’s futile.  Blood is spattering everywhere and she cannot breathe with these spikes piercing her.

“Forget,” he says, even as he pulls her deeper into the spikes.

She crumbles, falling into a sea of darkness.

 

Gasping for air and her heartbeat thundering in her ears, she launches into waking.  It takes her a moment to realize where she is – a hospital room – and then pain blossoms in her chest.  Her hand automatically goes the fresh scar there and she winces as her fingers brush the tender flesh.

“Another dream?” the nurse asks.  She is familiar-looking, with pink hair, and she looks concerned.

Karin nods shakily.

“Do you remember what it was about?” the nurse asks, pouring her a glass of water.  “Would you like to talk about it?”

 The details of the dream are fading fast.  Karin frowns, trying to concentrate, and unconsciously rubs the scar on her chest.  “There were clouds.  And a face.”

His face.

A flash of red pounds through her skull like a bolt of lightning and she cries out, her hands flying to her temples.

“Here, take this for the pain,” the nurse says, holding out two pills and the glass of water. “It’ll help.”

Karin takes the pills, the pain already a dull throb, and she can feel her thoughts clearing a little.  She tries to focus on the memory of the dream and leans back, looking up at the ceiling.  Her eyes feel heavy and slowly, she closes them.

In the distance, she can hear the beating of wings.

---

Inoichi frowned at the file. “It’s a delicate case.”

“I know,” Ibiki said.  “It’s why I asked for you.”

The Yamanaka elder put the file down behind him and leaned back against his desk.  “This isn’t going to be like other cases.  We’ll have to tread very carefully. We’re dealing with a whole different sort of animal. We found that out the hard way last time.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not like we can do anything about it,” Ibiki conceded stiffly.  “Will you do it or not?”

Inoichi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his forefingers.  He then looked up: “Yeah, of course.”