BUT THAT’S ALL OVER.
A teenager in high school, Anne puts the lost time behind her, presses on, despite the occasional nightmares; gets a boyfriend, social network, after-school activities.
[Thirty-nine lunar months]
The tentacles of darkness reappear with a vengeance, worldwide—the sun struggles to make day known. Not in a vacuum, Anne surges with a feeling of oneness with the world.
The fight is apocalyptic, a real Revelations light show. Earth is saved. The darkness is plugged back into the Chaos manifold. Anne stops glowing.
Later, Anne wonders why the shadow wants out of the nighttime.
ANNE DOES NOT RECALL ESCAPING the inconstant mass, a visible darkness connected to original Chaos. Notwithstanding amnesia, she feels a general uneasiness.
Still being Anne proves great resolve; she will never be a little girl again. However, the name is all she remembers.
Later though, she dreams of being hunted by something tearing through the night, unholy. It works quickly breaking through the barricades of her mind for entry, finally getting through. A single tear is all Anne has time for.
Anne inside the murkiness that disdains other agencies, locks hers away, the last vestige against the tightening dark arms.
THIS IS THE THIRD TIME. It blobs into the dimension medusa-like, not as amorphous, but still black as a clouded new moon.
Anne knows this time she will not just think it away like before. The ooze strengthens with each incarnation. She senses determination, consciousness–before there was only unfocused malevolence.
Anne assumes a stance of power, asserts, “I’m not afraid of you,” as the convolving tentacles fire. It snatches the child into its darkness.
Anne, amnesic, steps from the nor’easter blizzard shadows onto her moonlit yard. Home. Anne’s mind, now, has become the stronger of the two.