Wolf of the Tesseract

Chapter 3

Her vivid nightmare had returned! No stranger to reoccurring dreams, last night's vision came back with full fury, and while Claire knew she dreamt, she winced and writhed anxiously under her sheets, trapped by the reverie.

Struggling against violent winds which tore through her, Claire strained against the unknown spiritual forces that clutched her and she clawed against the air. Her voice was barely audible over the shrieking winds. Her father's ancient locket had pulled free from her neck and threatened to fling itself into the maelstrom that spun her about.

She squinted against the gale that spun her around... her and this unknown man—her true love. Claire's eyes dried out and blurred as their bodies spun within the void. She couldn't make out his face, but in her heart she knew it was her life's great love, and then guilt washed over her.

He yelled for her to hold on, but her heart went numb. Hand in hand, Claire's iron grip weakened where her engagement ring bit into her finger, the massive rock pressed into her flesh. Guilt.

Claire looked at the man. This felt all too familiar. She only knew this wasn't James. The shame of that realization stole her breath. As she looked at the man, her mind turned fuzzy and her breathless lungs screamed. Her hand slipped from his and the cyclonic wind threw her across the horizon.

Suddenly gasping for air, Claire sat up in her bed. "Stupid sleep apnea," she muttered, punching her pillow. She tried to return to her slumber. "At least it wasn't that stupid wolf dream."

She sighed, and slowly relaxed into a fitful slumber. Immediately, she began having the chronically reoccurring dream where she was helpless and hunted by a ravenous wolf.

. . .

Claire yawned, as if that could chase away the lingering fatigue that clung to her. She clutched her large, double-shot espresso drink as if it alone could provide her salvation.

The air was crisp on this bright, sunny morning, and people walked everywhere in the busy shopping area atop the hill. The shopping area rested a lofty height above the Great Lake Superior giving them a gorgeous morning view. Claire watched the shoppers bustle to and fro, waiting for her bridesmaids at an outdoor table at the café.

Jackie plopped down in the metal chair, laying the daily newspaper in front of her friend. She set down a napkin-wrapped scone and glared at it. Jackie didn't trust scones. "Where is Vivian? She always brings junk food, and they were all out of the good stuff inside."

Claire smiled over her hot cup of goodness. She knew Jackie would eat it anyway.

"I mean, look at it," Jackie nudged it as if it might be alive. "It's hard like a rock. I don't know if it's animal, vegetable, or mineral."

"You know, Vivian doesn't eat that stuff. I think she's just trying to poison us with it."

"Well, the jokes on her," Jackie laughed as Claire leafed through the paper. "I was going to buy that junk anyway. I might as well let her do the honors for me and at her expense."

"So much weird stuff in the headlines lately," Claire mumbled absentmindedly.

Jackie talked over her, already in full-blown monologue mode. "It's not like I have a man I need to be skinny for—and besides, who decided that skinny is what's in, anyway? Probably some man! I don't even think I ever want to get married..."

"Hold up," Claire raised a hand to pause her. She tried to concentrate on the paper.

"Why? You have a single friend? Because I was totally lying. Is he cute? Tell me he's cute..."