The Forest of Aisling: Dream of the Shapeshifter (The Willow Series Book 1) (17 page)

“Good; why don’t you tell him, Willow? More coffee
for me,” Eagan smiled and stepped out of the room.

Dad motioned for me to follow him into the hall
where I told him about Conor’s wakening.  He released a deep sigh and
pulled me in close for a hug after I let him know that Grandpa smiled when I
said he was here. “Glad he had you to wake up to,” he whispered into my ear.

 I stood there with my dad, who had always
been my rock
.
  But now I felt like it was my turn to take over that
job.  I became aware of nervous trembling from his body as he hugged me
and realized how much he needed me at that moment.  It’s weird when you
recognize that your parents are only human and can share the same feelings as
you.  Another loss of innocence. 

Why is it, that when you’re so exhausted and sleep
should come easily, it doesn’t.   I couldn’t stay awake on the drive
back from the hospital, but once I was in bed, relaxed and comfortable, all I
was able to do was lay there and stare at the ceiling.  Dad wasn’t having
the same problem, fortunately.  His deep snores pounded against the loose
headboard, making a rattling sound that reminded me of a stalled engine. 

The glints of moonlight that found their way into
our dark room created odd-looking patterns of black and gray on the ceiling and
wall.  I lost myself for a moment staring at one particular shape that
moved infinitesimally, yet enough that I could make out its changes.  I
looked to the window to try and distinguish what was causing that particular
shadow and decided that the nearly full moon was responsible along with a
barren tree branch reaching high into the evening sky.

A sense of panic overtook me as my brain betrayed
my ease with the sudden playback of the incident in the hall and the shadowy
mist there.   I no longer felt certain that the odd shape was merely
the moon and a lone tree branch playing tricks.  I pulled the covers up
close to my face and concentrated completely on the shadow dancing on the
wall.  The microscopic movement was growing, only minutely, yet enough
that I could make it out.  It began on a small area of the ceiling, then
stretched down, growing in width and darkness.  It seemed to be pulsating
more than actually moving.  Once again I looked over to the window,
hoping, praying to see some explanation for the peculiar activity. 
Nothing.  Just the solitary branch reaching high and the moon partially
covered by some passing clouds, along with the glow from a nearby streetlight.

 Closing my eyes, I said a quick prayer in
hopes that it was just my overactive imagination rearing its ugly head instead
of anything else…rearing its ugly head.  I slowly opened my eyes, holding
on to the squint that might shield me from an anomaly that I wasn’t quite prepared
to deal with.  At first I was unable to make out the strange shape. It no
longer held itself on the wall directly in front of me.  I opened my eyes
fully, feeling much relief, thinking that exhaustion was really beginning to
catch up.  I drew comfort from the low racket coming from Dad across the
room and snuggled into the bed, rolling over on my side and closed my
eyes.  A quick thought of Bram brought a smile to my face and made me feel
relaxed enough to finally doze off.  With a deep breath I felt myself
drift off to sleep, yet I still felt uncomfortably aware of…something.

A choked-off throttle sound rattled the room,
waking me up.  When I finally realized it was nothing other than Dad’s
deviated septum acting up, I relaxed and sank back into the warm, cozy
mattress.  A glance at the clock read 2:38 a.m.  I felt refreshed but
still in need of a few more hours’ sleep.  I rolled over onto my left side
so as to face my view out the window a few feet away.  The moon had
continued its journey across the night sky, creating more patterns on the walls
and ceiling.  I tried to ignore them but once again found the same oddly
shaped apparition pulsating on the wall directly in front of me.  I
reminded myself that it was the same as before, just in a different spot due to
the movement of the moon.

 I locked my gaze on it for several minutes
before the terrifying realization hit me.  There was no way this shadow
could be a product of the tree branch and moonlight from outside.  The
wall that it anchored itself on was the window wall.  That wall was in
darkness with the exception of the even-darker shape, which grew now with my
sudden revelation.  Panic took over when I became aware of the absence of
the sleep sounds coming from Dad.  The room was quiet…disturbingly quiet,
with the exception of the pounding of my heart.

Slowly I turned my head in an attempt to look over
to my father’s bed.  I stopped when I realized that any movement I made
caused the dark mass to enlarge… it even appeared to take on transparency and
to be pulling itself off of the wall.  The deepest fear I’d ever
experienced seized me and plunged me into paralysis.  A bizarre thought
raced through my mind…
Now I get why the victim just stands there when the
monster gets ready to attack.

Seconds felt like hours as I held my stare on the
ebony mist drawing closer to my bed.  The urge to close my eyes and scream
almost took over but I found myself unable to do either.  The paralysis
encapsulated my whole body.  A soft rustle from Dad’s bed caused the form
to hold its position and gave me the motivation I needed to quickly look over
to him.  His back was facing me, but I could hear from his breathing that
he was in a deep sleep.  Turning my head back slowly I found myself face
to face with the ghostly presence.  It quickly shot out a ribbon of mist
that began tracing the lines of my face.  The body of the mist was on top
of me and I could make out images floating through it, distorted images,
distant images, impossible to discern…deep within the mist now swirling about
my head, touching my face with its ribbons of gray.

The tiny hairs on my arms and the back of my neck
stood erect.  A tingling sensation swept through every cell of my body,
followed by a tremendous sense of heat.  The gray ribbon shapes started to
feel like fingers dancing across my cheeks and forehead, barely touching, just
enough for me to be aware of contact.  It was hypnotic, almost
anesthetizing.  The warmth became subdued as a new awareness of voices
filled my ears.  Just like the images, the voices too were distant,
foreign to me, another language, chanting something that had a remarkable
effect. 

As I slipped into a sort of catatonic state, a
strange picture floated across my field of vision.  Unable to discern
whether my eyes were closed or open anymore, I tried to reach up to touch my
own face, but couldn’t lift or even feel my arms.  All that was left of me
was this random thought process floating around in space.  A very small
transient part of my being still held on in spite of the overwhelming urge to
let go. 

Then I heard a faint distant voice. “Willow,
Willow, you must resist.”

After the voice spoke, the strange picture once
again floated across my field of vision.  The shape was moving, shifting,
changing.  It began to take on traces of color.  Subtle shades. 
Gradually an unmistakable image formed; my grandmother.  The grandmother
I’d never met and had only seen in photographs. She stood in front of me as if
in front of a black hole, surrounded by darkness, her shape pulsating and
stretching, at times taking on a distorted and frightening feel.  She
reached her arms out to me while her voice echoed the same sentence over and
over again. “Willow, you must resist.”  Her voice sped up and slowed down
like an old-time record player, taking on an eerie haunting tone; a disembodied
voice trapped in another dimension.

The sight and sound of my grandmother caused
tremendous turmoil within my entire body.  It wasn’t that I was just
uncomfortable seeing and hearing her apparition; it was as though there was a
struggle between two entities, and I wasn’t one of them. 

While Grandma spoke, the extreme sensation of heat
returned, along with the tingling.  My body felt like a
battleground.  Her words and image took on the most distortion, while the
mist that surrounded my body seemed to grow stronger.  Along with its
strength came my weakness, and Grandma’s vision and words slowly drifted away
until all that was left was the darkness.

The haunting images from the mist began to return
as did the chanting.  I once again felt myself start to fall off the
edge…to slip into oblivion.  A very real sensation of falling down, down
deep into darkness took me over. 

Then I became aware of the smallest speck of light
straight ahead.  It was smaller than the tip of a pin, but within the
canvas of blackness, it shown as bright as the brightest star.  My focus
shifted to it and within that a glimpse of awareness of who I was came
back.  And so did Grandma’s words.  “Willow, you must resist.”

And resist I did.  My mind filled with
thoughts of myself and the people who mattered most to me.  Their faces
shone brightly in the dark abyss and it seemed as though I was coming
back.  But the mist’s hold over me was beyond strong.  It felt impenetrable. 
My visions slowed down and I once again began the descent. The one vision I
hadn’t allowed to show was of what I had become in the park.  My shifted
self.  The mere thought of it in my head brought the vision before my
eyes.  I saw myself as the wolf, beautiful, agile and fast, running
through the park as I had done that last time with my friends looking on. 
Watching myself as the wolf brought new strength.  The chanting ceased but
the hold continued.  The image of the wolf once again shifted from that of
observer to that of the wolf. 

I looked out with new eyes.  Eyes with
instinct and power.  I had no fear.  The ribboned fingers of the mist
began to pull back until they were once again part of the long-shadowed
shape.  I could feel the anomaly pull itself away from my face.  And
the strangest part was…I could feel fear within the shadow as it
did.   It shot itself back up against the wall and, in a flash,
disappeared.

Once full consciousness found its way back to me I
sat up, still focused on the spot that had just swallowed the mist.  A
need to touch the spot took over so I threw my feet over the side of the bed
and let out a muffled yelp.  I stared at the paws standing on the moonlit
carpet of the hotel room floor.  I was the wolf. 

I padded my way over to the bathroom. 
Pulling my front paws up to rest on the counter I looked into the mirror. 
Even in the dimly lit room I could make out the frightening shape of a
full-grown wolf staring back.  Involuntarily, a small yip made its way out
of my throat in reaction to seeing myself standing there in wolf form, just a
few feet away from Dad.

I heard him rustle and clear his throat in the
other room.  Quickly I jumped down and nudged the door closed.  I
rose up once again and ran my paw over the light switch, turning on the two
pendant lights overhead.

And there I stood.  Unbelievable.  Even
though I’d seen myself in the reflection of the lake at the park, it was
nothing like this.  To be staring at myself in a mirror, in such human
surroundings, was just that…unbelievable.  I slowly turned my head and
began studying the markings on my canine face.  The gray and black fur
also had traces of a rich umber shade that I hadn’t seen before.  The
color of my eyes was haunting.  I could see my human eyes within them,
only amplified.  I had to admit it…..I was beautiful.

Then an involuntary reflex took over and had me
sitting on the floor with my back leg extended, reaching up and scratching my
itchy left ear.  A low groan of satisfaction radiated from deep within my
chest.   I had to laugh at myself and prayed I wouldn’t need to do
any licking. I once again jumped up to the vanity and surveyed the minute
details of my transformed body.  The sheen of the multi-colored fur coat;
the sense of lightness…agility and power flowed through my every muscle and
tendon.  My vision was clear and full of color, unlike what I’d always
heard about canines seeing in black and white.  The shades I saw were more
intense, more vibrant, than how I saw them while in human form. 

The most outstanding change was my newfound sense
of hearing.  I lowered my body to the cool tile floor and lay down
listening without any effort whatsoever to the many sounds that flooded my ear
waves. 

The first sound that I became aware of was that of
my sleeping father.  The deep inhalation and exhalation seemed close
enough to be mistaken for my own breaths.  As I let my hearing explore
further, the sound of voices grew louder.  I was even able to make out a
conversation which seemed to be coming from the floor below us.  I could
hear the elevator door at the end of the hall, opening and closing.  The
whistle of the wind blowing through parts of the building was clear and
distinct.

The first few moments of my sound exploration were
overwhelming and caused my eardrums to feel full.  Like I needed to yawn
and pop them. As I challenged each new noise to make itself known, a sense of
control came over me and I was able to put my entire focus on the sound in
question, then move on to the next, without the burden of dealing with all of
them at once.  It was exhilarating.  I found that, with enough
concentration, I could distinguish sounds from outside, far outside.  It
felt as though the noises were miles away but so easy for me to hear.

I lay there on the floor marveling at myself and
the incredible way I was feeling, stretching out my long limbs in front of
me.  I was in total control.  Unafraid.  It was me…Willow. 
Not something possessing me; it was me and it felt unbelievably awesome.

Then a random thought jumped into my brain and
quickly reminded me where I was, asking the big question.  
How am
I going to turn back?
  It just happened automatically before; would it
do that now?

 I stood up once again and tried to envision
my human self in an effort to shift back.  Nothing happened.  The
sound of Dad stirring in the next room sent a shock wave of urgency through my
body.  Whimpers sounded in my throat, to which Dad responded, “That you
Wil? Everything ok?”

Oh my God,
I thought. I tried to form words
but was only able to muster a few more whimpers.  If I didn’t answer him
soon he’d surely get up to come see what was the matter.  I fought the
panic and pulled my mind back to the moments before I changed in an effort to see
what may have triggered it.  The fear of the mist had been strong, so was
my reaction to seeing Grandma’s image floating in it.