I burst through the shadowed veil of the forest, branches clawing at my face as I fled deeper into the darkness. My breathing was ragged, torn from my lungs in gasping sobs, but I pushed myself forward, not daring to look back. The beach and its dangers had to be left far behind.

The forest was a thick labyrinth, the path nearly swallowed by the void of the moonless night. Twisted roots and rampant undergrowth made every step treacherous. I stumbled a few times as I ran, holding my arms close to my chest as they throbbed from my earlier fall from the car.

My right foot caught on a root, and I was sent sprawling on the damp forest floor with a sharp cry. I lay face down for a moment, holding my breath as I strained to hear any sound of pursuit in the dark forest. But I only heard the thundering beat of my own heart. With a grimace of pain and determination, I forced myself to stand and continued my desperate search for safety.

The trail I had followed terminated abruptly at a cliff's edge. I barely managed to grasp a nearby tree branch in a heart-stopping moment, narrowly avoiding a disastrous misstep off the precipice. Panting, I turned to backtrack, hoping to find another way forward.

But as I pivoted, a dark silhouette suddenly descended from above, taking my breath away. I staggered back, a scream locked in my throat as the figure unfurled expansive, dark, leathery wings, his eyes glowing piercing silver in the scant light.

Overwhelmed by terror, I stepped too far back, my foot slipping into empty air. A scream finally tore from my throat as my body tipped backward over the cliff. The icy grip of the sea loomed below, ready to swallow me in its cold embrace. I clenched my eyes shut and braced for the crushing impact. But the harsh welcome of the water never came.

My descent stopped as abruptly as it had begun as strong arms encircled me. Cautiously, I opened my eyes and saw that the strange man held me close against him. His wings beat a powerful rhythm, holding us aloft above the crashing waves. His face hovered close, those enigmatic silver eyes burning into mine.

"You are such a hassle," he rumbled, his voice a blend of frustration and relief, echoing over the roar of the surf below.

My heart pounded against my ribcage, a frantic drumbeat as the rush of adrenaline surged through me, awakening me to the surreal truth. This was no mere man.

With a mighty flap of his wings, we soared across the dark waters, the night air cool against my skin. As the shore approached, he lowered me to the ground beside my car. My knees buckled under the weight of reality as my feet touched the earth, barely supporting my trembling body.

He folded his massive wings behind him, and they disappeared. He then regarded me with a look that mingled curiosity with frustration.

"What are you?" 

Before he could answer, another voice shattered the moment.

"Argento, we're out of time!" The urgency in the shout made us both turn toward two dark figures rushing our way. My eyes widened as I discerned the inhuman scale of one silhouette, my pulse spiking with fresh terror.

The voice called out again, more urgent now. “Alfonso’s men have caught the scent of us. We need to get out of here now.” As the figures neared, I caught a glimpse of vivid green eyes that sparked a vague memory, an echo of a face I couldn't quite place.

"Alfonso..." I muttered to myself. That name sounded familiar, too.

“I haven’t gotten to talk to her at all,” Argento’s voice held a hint of regret.

“We’ll have to try again another time. We need to go now!” The impatience in the other’s tone was palpable.

A chill crept down my spine at the promise of a ‘next time.’ My confusion and fear morphed into anger as the immediate rush of adrenaline began to wane, and my body started to register the night’s injuries.

“Who the fuck are you?” I shouted, my voice cracking as my body began to tremble, the pain seeping into my awareness.

Argento’s response was a mischievous grin, his presence overwhelming as he knelt before me. “You’ll find out next time.”

“There won't be a next time!”

As a gentle hand touched my cheek, a strange warmth spread through me, dulling the pain and coaxing me toward darkness. 

"You will meet with me again if you want to find your friend."

"You know..." My words trailed off as my world faded to black, the night’s mysteries still cloaked in shadow as I slipped into unconsciousness.

I woke up with a sharp intake of breath, my heart racing as if it wanted to escape my chest. The soft contours of my bed surrounded me, and the familiar walls of my apartment hemmed me in safely. Golden morning light spilled through my window, bathing the room in a warm glow as I slowly rubbed the sleep from my eyes.

Had everything been merely a dream?

Sitting up, I winced at the aching protest of my muscles. I threw back the covers, half-expecting to see my limbs marred by dark bruises. Yet, to my astonishment, my skin was pristine and unblemished.

With a mixture of urgency and dread, I leaped from the bed and hurried to the mirror for a better inspection. I scanned my body frantically in the reflection—no bruises, no marks, nothing to prove the night’s harrowing events. But the soreness I felt was real, so it had to have happened.

As I lifted my shirt to search for any sign of injury, something cold brushed against my skin. Glancing down, I discovered a long silver chain around my neck, culminating in a pendant crafted from an iridescent metal shaped like a dragon’s head. This was certainly not mine, and I tried to pull it over my head, but the necklace wouldn’t budge.

My phone buzzed on the bedside table, pulling me away from my task. The phone display showed my office number, sparking a fresh wave of panic.

“Shit, shit, shit!” 

Taking a deep, steadying breath, I answered the call.

"Hello?"

My boss’s voice crackled through, tinged with irritation. "Gabriella! Where are you?”

"I'm so sorry," I stammered, my mind scrambling for a plausible excuse. "I...had a family emergency last night and was up all night. I must have slept through my alarm."

The guilt of lying gnawed at my conscience. How could I possibly reveal the true nature of the previous night—that I was trapped in an encounter with a winged creature and had somehow been magically healed and that's why I was running late?

My boss sighed on the other end. "Next time you’re going to be late, just give us a call."

"I'm really sorry, it won't happen again," I assured him. "I’ll be there as soon as possible."

After hanging up, I scrambled to dress, tearing through my closet. My thoughts spiraled back to the perplexing events of the previous night. 

Twenty minutes later, I dashed out of my apartment building, my pace quickening as I moved toward my usual downtown parking spot. To my surprise, my car sat there unscathed, looking as mundane as ever. I paused, remembering the chaotic exit I’d made from it last night, sure it had crashed into something on that dark beach.

"Maybe it was all a dream," I murmured, a thread of doubt weaving through my thoughts as I continued to my office.

I swept through the glass doors of my office building, my movements brisk, hoping my late arrival wouldn’t draw too much attention. But as I passed the front desk, the receptionist’s voice halted me.

"Ms. Hernandez! Hold on a second."

I turned slowly, my heart racing even before I knew why I was being called.

"Two detectives are waiting for you in your office. They said it’s urgent."

My pulse thundered in my ears. 

Detectives? 

My mind raced—did they know about last night? Could something have been caught on camera during my harrowing drive?

With a nod to the receptionist, I mustered a calm I didn’t feel and made my way to the elevators.

I smoothed my hair back and straightened my posture as the elevator doors glided open. I stepped out with as much confidence as I could muster, striding toward my office. I paused for a deep breath at the door, steadying my nerves before turning the handle.

“I’m sorry for keeping you waiting, Detectives. Is this about last night?” I asked as I entered.

The sight that greeted me inside my office left me momentarily stunned.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I blurted out before I could stop myself.

Drew raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. "I'm a detective, Gabriella."

I knew that, but what the hell was he doing as a Detective in Seattle?!

"I thought you were working in Portland," I stammered, confusion mingling with surprise.

"I was. Got transferred back to Seattle about six months ago," Drew explained.

"Six months! So you aren't back just for your wedding?"

"We're here about your missing person report, about Iris. Something happened last night?" Drew expertly ignored my question.

My cheeks burned with embarrassment. Of course, they weren’t here about the bizarre encounter with the creature—no one else knew. 

"Oh, that’s what I meant. I filed the report last night."

Drew eyed me with suspicion but didn’t probe further.

The other detective in the room nodded solemnly as he flipped open a small notebook. 

“I'm Detective Mendoza, and you seem to know my partner already. We’re here to gather more information about your missing friend. Let’s start from the beginning. When was the last time you saw or spoke with Iris?”

My mind raced back. 

“It was 11 days ago. We celebrated my new promotion at the Cherry Club up on Capitol Hill.”

Drew’s voice cut in, his tone tinged with impatience. 

“Why did it take you so long to report her missing?”

I had been dreading this question, the same one the officer had asked me the day before. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, their scrutiny pressing down on me.

“The two of you have always been inseparable, but you didn’t notice for ten days?”

"Iris and I don't live or work together anymore," I explained, trying to keep my voice steady. "We don’t see each other every day like we used to. I had just figured she was busy with a new boyfriend or caught up with work since the night of the club."

“Did she often disappear for extended periods with ‘new boyfriends?’” Detective Mendoza pressed, his pen poised over the notebook.

“Sometimes,” I admitted, my throat tightening.

As Detective Mendoza scribbled notes, I could feel Drew's gaze on me, analyzing my every expression and tone. He knew me well and could tell when I was holding something back or lying.

"Who was she currently dating?" Mendoza continued.

“No one that I knew of,” I replied, trying to keep my composure.

“But you just said you thought she might have been busy with a new boyfriend.”

“Iris wouldn’t always introduce me to her new beaus. Not unless she was serious about them."

I had always admired Iris's independence and ability to juggle a thriving career with a vibrant social life, often seeing multiple people at once. I glanced at the two detectives, knowing better than to disclose that detail about Iris's love life. Such honesty might skew their perception of Iris in ways I wanted to avoid.

“If I remember correctly, she would date more than one at a time,” Drew interjected, his tone laced with implication.

I bristled inwardly at his insinuation but refused to be goaded into answering.

“If she hadn’t introduced you to anyone, what made you think she was seeing someone? Did she meet someone at the club that night?” Detective Mendoza asked, his eyes sharp.

“Oh, yes.” I realized I had forgotten about the unsettling man Iris introduced me to that night.

Mendoza flipped through his notes. “You didn’t include that in your report.”

“I just now remembered,” I replied, feeling the weight of their scrutiny as I shifted in my seat.

“That night, Iris was dancing with some guy—Alfonso, I think he said his name was,” I explained, trying to recall the details. “Iris was with him when I left the club.” The mention of his name triggered something in my memory that felt just out of reach.

“We’ll need a description of him to check the security footage from the club,” Mendoza said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through the walls.

I hesitated, my mind a foggy labyrinth of half-remembered faces and fragmented memories. 

"He was tall, maybe over six feet," I began, as the image of Alfonso blurred and wavered like a mirage in the desert. "Umm... he had blonde hair and blue eyes, I believe."

Were they blue?

Mendoza stopped mid-scribble, his pen hovering over the page as he looked up at me, a skeptical eyebrow arched. "Was he also Caucasian?"

I nodded, feeling a chill run down my spine despite the warmth of the room. I could almost feel Mendoza's frustration mounting.

"Any other distinct features?" 

I shook my head, the motion slow and uncertain. 

"Not that I can remember."

Mendoza let out a sigh, deep and weary as if carrying the weight of countless mysteries. 

"A Caucasian male, over six feet tall with blue eyes, is like searching for a needle in a haystack, Miss Hernandez. This is Seattle; we have a lot of those."

I knew he was right, and the truth of his words stung like a sharp winter wind. No matter how hard I tried to pull the details from the depths of my memory, Alfonso’s face remained an elusive phantom, slipping through my mental grasp like smoke.

Drew leaned forward, his gaze piercing. 

“Is there anything else you’re not telling us?”

“That’s all I can remember,” I shot back, my voice firm as I involuntarily played with the dragon pendant. Part of me wanted to reveal that I had been receiving texts from someone impersonating Iris for the past week, but a nagging voice inside cautioned me to hold back that detail.

Detective Mendoza nodded, closing his notebook with a snap. 

“We’ll be in touch. Call us right away if you remember anything else about that night or this Alfonso character.”

I escorted them to the door, my mind swirling with anxiety. Once the door closed behind them, I collapsed back into my chair, burying my face in my hands.