After the last few days of Halloween seeming to come alive in the city, Danielle found herself exhausted. She’d spent the last two days trimming singed ends out of her hair, trying not to mourn the loss of a few stray curls when she still sheds more than her cat does. The black feline let out a mournful meow as if to remind her of his presence, and she grinned, scratching under his chin. “Hush now, Midnight, I’ll be in bed soon. It was a long day today.” she sighed, winding her curls into a braid before she slipped into the sheets, dimming down the lights and letting her eyes drift shut.

It must have been a few hours by the time she roused, a faint drip drip making her eyes slide halfway open. Dazed in between sleepfulness and awake, her body felt like it was made of lead, damp with sweat from the unusually warm fall weather that had left her sleeping with the window open for the last two weeks.

She couldn’t feel Midnight, only spotting his shape on the cat tree in the corner of her bedroom when she squinted, her breathing becoming ragged. A trick of the moonlight, but it looked like the reflection off the wooden floors was a rippling surface of water.

Cold, damp fingers curled on her wrist where it was dangling over the edge of the bed. If she could have, she would have screamed. ”We’ve been waiting for you Dani,” a watery voice croaked, as if speaking with a trickle of sea water dribbling from parted lips. She whimpered, feeling sweat bead on her brow, panic making her heart thump viciously. Just a dream, just a dream.

Fingers crawled up her elbow, leaving droplets of water in their wake. It felt like she couldn’t breathe. ”The water’s just fine… come on in.” The voice rasped by her ear, but Dani was struggling, long forgotten memories rising within. When she was smaller, trying to swim for a forgotten toy, it’s plush body sagging into the depths as water rushed into her lungs. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t….

The room went dark. When she woke again, she was slick with sweat, sunlight pouring in from the bedroom window, Midnight curled at her feet beside a damp bag. It looked old, as if it was made with burlap, a faded orange ribbon deflated with moisture wrapped around it to keep it shut. With trembling fingers, she opened it up; finding a miniature plush kitten that looked remarkably like the toy she’d lost so many years ago, along with a few pieces of chocolate, still wrapped and undisturbed.

Dazed and still trying to catch her breath, she unwrapped one of the candies and popped it into her mouth, shoving the blankets off of herself and stumbling towards the shower. “Nobody is gonna believe this, Midnight.”

As if on cue, the Tom let out a long, mournful meow and trotted over to his food bowl.