I was running through the cold, damp forest. The air around me clung to my skin like a wet bathing suit, freezing me through even as I ran. I was still on two legs but needed to get on four as quickly as possible if I had any chance of escape. He had to be close on my hooves, but even now I couldn’t hear him fumbling through the underbrush. Which struck part of me as strange. The part of me that could always pull away and be analytical was trying to point out something important, but my panic was too strong. All I could do was run and look for something I could use as running poles for my arms.

  My breath came in strong gasps. My muscles were weaker than I’d realized. How long had he been holding me prisoner? I reached up and touched my horns. Horns. I still had two. My left one ached where he’d tried to cut it free, and I could feel blood congealing in my hair, making my scalp colder in the frigid air, but I still had two horns. I wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, but until I was out of this forest, I was fair game. But why couldn’t I hear him behind me?

  I looked at the trees around me. The forest was a kaleidoscope of black and white and grey, everything stark but shadowed. I could see my own hoofprints in the snow behind me and knew I needed to do something quickly. I looked at the trees and knew I only had one chance at going unnoticed. Because there was something goats were really good at, it was climbing.

  Or so I thought. Goats have it easy, what with four legs all the same length and everything. But I was able to jump up high enough using my goaty legs to reach the lowest branch, which was still at least 10 feet off the ground, and even though I felt weaker than I thought I should, I was able to pull myself up and climb higher in the canopy. I sat on a high branch and realized that I would have to be careful about knocking snow to the ground. A giant splat of snow was just as bad a footprint when you were being tracked. Any disturbance to the undergrowth would give away my direction, as well as the speed at which I was traveling. Going slow didn’t seem right, but I was going to have to force myself to be as careful and quiet as possible, and that meant taking time I didn’t really feel like I had. But it was either go fast and leave a clear trail or go slowly and maybe appear to disappear. As it was, I still couldn’t hear him anywhere behind me and it was making me more nervous by the second.

  Goat hooves provided balance and grip when moving through the trees. I watched for snowy branches and tried to avoid them as much as possible. I followed my own trail back a few hundred yards, making sure to jump from tree to tree as quietly as possible. Once I felt like I’d backtracked enough, I moved perpendicular to my previous flight. A few hundred yards more and I looked at my surroundings. No roads or paths below, no smoke that might indicate houses, nothing but bleak trees and semi-darkness. While I had been free and running for at least half an hour, I noticed the light hadn’t changed. All the shadows were still long on the ground and nothing was moving. That was the problem, my logical brain finally screamed at me: nothing was moving. There were no birds and small creatures making any noise. It was winter so I wasn’t surprised at the lack of insects, but even when the weather was at its coldest, some life would stir, especially if someone like me started blundering around, making noise and disrupting everything. But this forest was either dead or empty or….

  … Or not real.

  A laugh came from above me in the tree and I whipped my face upward to see.

  I wasn’t in a tree. I was strapped to a table with a gag in my mouth, making my whole face ache, my head pounding and feeling lopsided since one horn had been removed. I had lost enough blood to go into shock, but not enough to die. And that’s what I wanted now. I just wanted to die. I didn’t care what this freak did to my body; I just wanted to Not Be Here Anymore.

  His laugh was still echoing around the room when I felt his hands in my hair. Each gentle stroke sent electric shocks of pain shooting through my body. The hair around my missing horn actually hurt as it was moved with slow precision. Tears flooded my already weeping eyes and bile rose in my throat, making it sting since I’d already ruined it with screams. It hurt so bad I wanted to throw up, but I couldn’t. There was nowhere for the vomit to escape. I would drown. Yes, I would certainly drown. And then it would be over.

  Just as I felt spasms in my stomach grow stronger, the tabletop flipped over, changing my view from the ceiling lights to the tile floor beneath me. A hand flipped a clasp on the gag, releasing it from my mouth so quickly I didn’t even have time to flinch. My head was still pressed flat against the table, thanks to the binding on my remaining horn as well as across my forehead, so as my body writhed and forced bile from my empty stomach, the bone-deep ache in my head was compounded by the pain of a metal manicle strangling and restraining my motion. I screamed as loudly as I could, dragging in a breath, but the gag was snapped back into place before I could scream again.

  “What will the neighbors think, my love?” the man’s voice crooned. “They won’t understand that I’m trying to help you. You’ll thank me when this is all finished and you’re a real girl again.” The table was pulled over again, returning me to my back and restoring my view of fluorescent lights blinding me to everything outside of this cone of illumination. I saw the goggles and surgical mask covering the face of my captor looming in front of me again, this time close enough for me to smell sweat and salt and rotted food on his breath. I couldn’t see his mouth through his mask, but I knew he was grinning.

  “I’ll let you heal for a few days before we continue,” he said, slipping the backs of his fingers against my cheek, caressing my face and making me want to vomit again. “Your Fae body should heal itself quickly. It can’t do much else to help you, but at least it can do that.” He stood up and began singing as he walked into the darkness.

  Well this was new.

  Cassie was stroking my damp hair and holding the bin as I purged my dinner. I leaned into her, turning my face into her neck and crying. Cassie put her arms around me and rocked us both side to side, singing a song that was so different from the one I had just been dreaming that it grounded me into reality a little more. Kitten and the cats were all around us on the bed, trying to get as close as they could and make sure I was ok. My human friend rubbed my back and rested her cheek against my hair, humming and soothing me until I was able to breathe a bit. Mac came in with clean bedding, setting it on the dresser and then joining the cuddle puddle that was rapidly forming on the bed. They held me close as I calmed down. It wasn't the first time they had come to my rescue.

  TWO YEARS AGO

  “I think I want to just be friends,” I said after the waitress took our order, collected our menus, and left our table. I didn’t say it loudly or anything, but I made a point to look Todd in the eyes. We’d been out on two dates already and I knew he was thinking this would be the one where he’d get laid, but I had no interest in seeing him naked. Our waitress, definitely, but Todd, no. I’d tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, but something about him still wasn’t sitting right, even after we spent time hanging out. He was handsome and charming, but that tiny voice was still screaming in the back of my mind, telling me I not only did not want to see him naked, I didn’t want him to see me naked, either.

  “Well, if that’s what you want,” he said, taking a drink from his beer. He flagged down our waitress. She came over quickly, notepad in hand. “We’re going to be doing separate checks after all,” he said, setting his glass back down. I breathed a quick sigh and sat back.

  “I appreciate you being so cool,” I said, smiling. That chunk of ice that had been sitting in my stomach mostly melted. “I know most people have expectations on a third date.”

  “I’m not most people,” he said with a fierce grin. It didn’t reach his eyes, which had turned cold, but since I’d just told him he wasn’t getting laid tonight, it made sense. I was still uneasy, but I felt safe. We were in public, after all. “Most people would have just ghosted.”

  “I guess I’m not most people, either,” I said with an uncomfortable little laugh. I had met Todd through mutual friends so I knew we’d probably be seeing each other socially and I hadn’t wanted it to be awkward for us or the people we knew. “I hate having people ghost me.”

  “Same,” he said. We spent the rest of the meal talking about people we knew and events that were happening in our town. I still felt a little uneasy, but conversation moved smoothly and there weren’t too many strange pauses. When we finished and paid, we walked to the front doors.

  “Can I walk you home?” he asked.

  “I drove,” I said, nodding toward my car.

  “Of course you did,” he said. “I’m glad. Now I don’t have to worry about you getting home safely.” We bid each other good night and parted ways.

  Ten minutes later, parking in front of my house, a police car pulled in behind me.

  “The thing is,” he said, pulling my keys from my hands and shoving me against my own car door, “I don’t want to just be friends. I think you’re amazing and I’m sure we will have a great time in bed, so I think what we’re going to do is go into your apartment and you’re going to pay me back for all the time you spent teasing me.”

  “I didn’t tease you,” I said, trying to slide sideways. He slammed his palms on either side of me and leaned in close. I'm 6'5". I'm not used to having to look up to anyone, but Todd was even taller than I was. Having him this close was making me panic in a way I'd never experienced before. I was not used to being made to feel small, but him leaning in made me want to shrink in on myself.

  “Now you’re being stupid,” he said, breathing hard in my face. I turned my head away and again tried to push away from him, but he grabbed my arm and slammed me back against the side of the car.

  “The thing I like about you,” he said, somehow flipping me around so my chest was pressing against the car, “is how smart you are. I know, for example, that you are smart enough to know that this is not something we’re going to discuss. I’ve told you how it’s going to be and you are smart enough to know that I am not kidding. I want you, Althea, and I know you want me, too.”

  “I really don’t,” I said, surprised by the quaver in my own voice. I felt him push himself against my ass, grinding himself against me. Putting my hands on the car, I pushed back against him, throwing my weight back and snapping my head into his face. Or at least that was the plan. What actually happened was he moved out of my way so fast I ended up falling on my butt in the sharp rocks of my driveway. He kicked my hip and rolled me over, pinning me to the ground. With those same sharp rocks digging into my belly and breasts, he pulled my hands behind my back and looped them together with zip-tie cuffs, pulling the plastic tight.

  “I’m going to change your mind,” he said, pulling me to my feet with hands in my hair and on the back of my jacket. “And you’re going to love every minute of it.”

  Everything hurt. For three days, Todd had been assaulting me between bouts of caring for me. It was beyond fucked up and I was retreating into my own thoughts. He could do whatever he wanted to my body, but I was so tired of everything, the only thing I could really think to do was ignore him. He was actually pretty good at looking after the body in which I was trapped. He helped me to the bathroom every time he finished with me, letting me shower at least once a day. I could hear him humming and moving things around in the kitchen. At least he was keeping himself occupied.

  I lay there, face down this time, clean sheets around me, and thought of my breath. I concentrated on pulling air into my lungs and pushing it out again, slowly and steadily. I’d already passed out from hyperventilation a couple of times, though it did nothing to stop him from doing whatever he wanted to me. I’d come back to consciousness with his dick somewhere inside me and try to hold my breath until either I passed out again or he was finished. If he noticed, he’d slap me until I breathed again. Unfortunately, he almost always noticed.

  The humming from the kitchen grew louder as the man came back into the room. He forced a straw between my lips and told me to drink. I was beyond refusing simple instructions and the sweetness of the fruit smoothie made me want to vomit in his face, but I didn’t. Usually after giving me food of any kind, I’d have at least an hour until he started hurting me again. That old wives’ tale about not swimming for half an hour after eating had lodged deep in his brain, I guess. He stroked my hair and face as I drank, which also made me want to throw up, but I concentrated on pulling my mind further from my body. It was just a body, after all. It’s not like it mattered in the long run.

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  I barely heard the front door close, but I felt the emptiness of the house settle in around me. It was dark now, so I guessed my captor had finally had to go to work. He’d been calling off for the last three days, but after the last call I knew he was going to have to leave me at some point. The sheets were growing heavier and heavier, and I started to have a little trouble breathing. I felt tears run out of my eyes. It wasn’t really crying because my body didn’t move, but the feeling of relief that he was gone was almost overwhelming. But I was so tired and everything hurt so much, I couldn’t hold the tears back anymore. All I wanted to do was sleep.

  My heart lurched in my chest as I realized what he had done. The smoothie had been drugged and I was either going to be unconscious or die. Everything spun slowly around me as I pulled air deeper into my lungs. I considered the possibility of impending death and realized I didn’t actually care all that much. This seemed strange since I’d always been a big fan of being alive, but right now it just seemed like dying would be ok because then this whole situation would be over. I wouldn’t have to go through this anymore.

  Which was when the screaming in my head started.

  I thought about my oldest friends, the ones who lives too far away to see everyday but who were so close to the center of my heart I always knew when something happened to them, good or bad. When we were children, Mac, Cassie, Theodosia, and I had always known when any of us were in trouble. I remembered the night Mac’s father had found out about her and Cassie being in love, how I’d practically felt the blows from his belt rain down on my own back and head. I remembered when Cassie slipped into the river and bruised her backside, losing a shoe and getting a black eye from a branch caught in the water. My own eye had hurt until we found her. I thought about their hands and arms and breath surrounding me, creating armor of love and safety around me.

  I thought some more about Cassie and Mac, how Mac’s dark skin was always so smooth and cool when she touched my face, and how Cassie’s hair was constantly getting in her eyes because she was always trying to grow it long but would get irritated and give herself the worst bangs ever after a cocktail or two. The safety and love of Cassie and Mac started to build around my mind. I pulled up every sense memory I had of them, separately and together, and wove them around my deepest sense of Self. I knew they would keep me safe.

  Mac and Cassie’s voices rang in my ears, telling me to keep breathing, that they were coming for me. This was ridiculous since they didn’t know where I lived now. We hadn’t really talked since college. Sure, we were FaceSpace friends and sent birthday and holiday gifs, but mostly we hadn’t talked in a while. Life had happened to us and we’d lost touch. I still loved them and considered them sisters, but when was the last time we’d all hung out? I tried to remember, but my brain was fuzzy around the edges and I couldn’t make myself focus. I remembered how it felt when we were all together, after Dos, my twin sister, stopped talking to all of us, how we were this little family. Well, Mac and Cassie were family to each other. I loved them both, but their bond was so tight, I often felt like the third wheel. It wasn’t their fault; they were two sides of the same coin and I loved how they loved each other.

  The screaming in my head grew louder and softer as time went on. I listened to my own heart beat, feeling it slow, feeling my breath move shallowly through my lungs. I was fairly certain I’d been drugged instead of poisoned, but because I was lying face down, the effort it was taking to lift my whole torso with every breath was getting harder. My eyes were so heavy, darkness pushed in and layered itself in my mind, growing denser as time passed. Apathy robbed me of any fear or anxiety I might have experienced. The truth was, even though it had only been three days, it felt like an eternity, and I was ready for the whole thing to be over. I knew I should fight, and the voices that occasionally roused me from my stupor insisted I could hang on until help arrived, but it all seemed like too much of an effort. This wasn’t the life I wanted to live. This was a prison I wanted to escape.

  Hands began stroking my head and back and I felt the manacles on my wrists and ankles release and I knew I should fight, but I didn’t. If he was back with a friend, I really didn’t want to know. But the voices that had been ringing through my head for the last two hours were now filtering in through my ears. A light turned on behind me and I could see the red of blood flowing through the thick curtain of my eyelids. I was turned on my side, the sheets still covering me, and pillows were pushed against me so I wouldn’t tip either forward or back.

  “She’s not responding,” a woman’s voice said softly.

  “She will,” another voice replied, this one a little higher in pitch. My breathing had eased when they turned me and I could feel the oxygen begin to penetrate my brain.

  “...no idea what he gave her or how much…”

  “...get a little water into her…”

  The bed shifted around me as someone climbed over and around me. My body was pulled upright into a reclining position with my head resting between a woman’s chin and shoulder. Gently, a wet paper towel was pushed between my lips and few drops of cool water slid across my tongue. I could smell the woman’s skin and it reminded me of childhood and safety. Tears streamed down my face but I didn’t have the strength to sob.

  “We need to get her out of here,” the voice of the second woman said.

  “Throw her things in a bag,” the words rumbled against my back. “We’re going to have to carry her.” The angry yowl of a cat filled the room like an air raid siren. I heard a door open and suddenly there were paws and noses poking at me, one warm, furry head pressing against my chin and another furry body curling on my lap. My eyes pried themselves open and I began crying with abandon. Two sets of human arms held me, squeezing me so tight I knew they wouldn’t let me fall apart.

  “I always thought I’d fight harder,” I sobbed. Arms rubbed my back and stroked my hair, two cats pushed as close to me as they could get.

  “I know, love,” Mac said, rocking all of us gently.

  “We’re taking you home,” Cassie said. Both women were crying with me. My body was still heavy from whatever drug my captor had used to sedate me. After a few minutes, Cassie got up and continued to pack.

  “Leave everything,” I mumbled. “Just get Simon and Shade.”

  “You have to wear something,” Cassie started to say. Mac shook her head, understanding that I didn’t want to have anything to tie me to this place.

  “There’s a blanket in the car,” she told Cassie. “Put the cats in their carriers and bring that back down with you. We leave everything else here.” Cassie nodded and worked on getting the cats contained. Shade went into her carrier with little fuss, but Simon screamed in protest, his claws digging into my legs and arms as he was pulled away. I didn’t mind the bleeding gouges he left in my skin. Everything inside my head already felt raw and bleeding, so having my outsides match how my brain felt was almost a relief. I told him I’d be right behind him. A few minutes later, I was wrapped in a scratchy wool blanket in the back seat of their car, the cat carriers pulled close so I could stroke them both through the front grates. Everything was still fuzzy and floaty, so I wasn’t convinced it wasn’t all a dream, but I didn’t want to wake up and find myself still tied to the bed, so I just kept crying and concentrated on not throwing up.

  We drove for a long time, or what felt like a long time, until we reached their house. They bundled us all into the house and called a nurse friend who came and performed a rape kit, collecting evidence of what had happened. They took pictures of my body and recorded all the bruises and injuries I’d sustained while being held captive. We made a voice recording of me telling what had happened. Mac had taken all of the dirty bedding and any dirty dishes she could find and wrapped them in plastic, taking them with us as evidence. Apparently I’d fallen asleep as soon as they put me in the car so they’d taken the time to photograph my old apartment, making notes of how they found me, when, and in what state everything had been found. They even made a point to note how the cats had been shut in a room to keep them away from me. At least the bastard had made sure they were cared for while I was his captive. I was thankful he hadn’t just killed them outright to save himself the trouble of managing them.

  When the rape kit was complete, they asked me if I wanted to press charges. I fell apart completely, terrified of the idea of letting anyone know where I was now. The three women exchanged nods and the nurse told them that she had a safe place to store everything until I was ready to move forward. She knew a lawyer who worked with battered women and they had made arrangements for biological evidence storage before. I was impressed at how efficient my friends had been.

  They helped me bathe and dressed me in their clothes. As a very tall woman with very short friends, I knew I looked ridiculous in sweats that barely covered my knees, but no one really cared. They wrapped me in a blanket and parked me on the couch where the cats came and snuggled with me as hard as they could. The TV played something quietly, just enough to make background noise, but my brain was turned off. Thinking hurt. Being alive at all seemed completely overwhelming. Cassie sat beside me and began ordering clothes for me. She helped me choose the right sizes for a few outfits and some shoes, then pulled out her own credit cards.

  “Money,” I mumbled, shaking my head a little.

  “We pulled some money out of your bank account and took your credit cards with us. Do you think he had access to your bank records?”

  “I don’t know,” I said honestly. We logged into my bank account and saw that nothing had been touched yet. Cassie called the bank, pretending to be me, and had all of my money transferred to her bank. Then she closed the credit cards and turned off all of the utilities for my apartment. She had grabbed the pile of mail I had kept in a basket by the front door. She even called my landlord and explained that I would no longer be living in the apartment and would therefore no longer be paying rent. She went into another room to make that call so I don’t know what details she shared, but she wasn’t too upset when she came back out. He let me out of the lease and even refunded my pet deposit. Apparently, Mac and Cassie had spent the drive to my house making a list of important things they should collect to make sure I never had to go back.

  “I pointed out that your television was brand new and he could probably have a garage sale to get rid of the rest of your things so he decided to call it even. Plus he can rent your apartment for twice what you were paying since you’d been there so long. Very nice man. I hope only good things happen for him.” She only rolled her eyes a little when she said that. I knew the old man was a pain in the ass, but Cassie was not someone who accepted being told no when she made up her mind about something. Give that woman the moral high ground and she would defend it with everything she had. A few more hours on the phone and every account I had had been disconnected, paid off, or discontinued by her force of will. I barely reacted to anything, only moving enough to pet the cats or go to the bathroom.

  The first two weeks were both the fastest and slowest time of my life. My brain and body refused to work together for anything other than covering the barest of physical necessities. Mac reminded me to take a shower every other day and Cassie helped me put on the new clothes she had ordered for me. Mostly I sat on the couch with my cats and stared at the television. They would hand me food and I would eat it. I would take myself to the bathroom and return to my nest on the couch, a place where the line between waking and sleeping was negligible. After what might have been a month, my brain started to turn itself back on. I was bored with staring at the television and my skin itched if I didn’t take care of my hygiene. Mac and Cassie introduced me to their friends, slowly, one at a time, and I started to find myself again. Eventually I was working part time at their coffee shop and making more of an effort to take care of myself. The women behind The Seven Sisters made me one of their own, and repaying that kindness and care was what kept me grounded.

  TWO MONTHS AGO, THE MORNING AFTER THE NEW NIGHTMARE

  I woke up to bright sunlight, the weight of a dog sleeping on my chest, and the cheerful sound of dishes clanking in the kitchen downstairs. I could smell bacon and coffee and something sweet. Kitten licked her nose, which was very close to my face, and then yawned as wide as she could.

  “And that’s why you’re an apex predator,” I told her, rubbing her ears. “All those pointy teeth.” I moved her off my chest and rolled to the side of the bed. Charlie and Simon rubbed against my legs, yelling at me for pets and probably food. I gave them each some loves and put on my robe.

  Margie was bouncing around Mac and Cassie's kitchen, making breakfast that would shame a housewife from the 1950’s. The radio played quietly in the background, loud enough to enjoy but not so loud that it would have woken me up. Bacon, eggs, and blueberry muffins steamed on the table, looking too good to miss. I sat at one of the empty places and poured coffee into both mugs, stirring creamer and sugar into mine. Margie plopped into a chair and handed me the butter before reaching for the bacon.

  "What are you doing here?" I asked, feeling my heart lift in the presence of her joy and her cooking

  “The girls wanted to go in early this morning and I decided I wanted to come fix you a little breakfast. I never get to cook for people like this,” she bubbled, helping herself to the food.

  “You cook at the coffee shop all the time,” I said, reaching for a muffin.

  “Oh, that’s not the same,” she said, putting food on both of our plates. “When my girls were little, we’d get up early on weekends and make special breakfasts together. They’d watch cartoons while we waited for everything to get done baking and then we’d eat everything we’d just made. After breakfast, we’d wash the dishes together, which we made into a little game, and then we’d have the rest of the day to ourselves. They do that with their own kids now.”

  “Do you get to see them very often?” I asked through a mouth full of food. Her eyes sparkled as she pretended to give me a scolding look for talking with my mouth full, but I could feel her teasing me.

  “Oh sure,” she said between bites of her own. “At least once a month they all camp at my place and we make massive breakfasts for all the kids. I have 12 grandchildren, you know.” I let my eyes gape at her but my mouth was too busy processing the manna from heaven she’d given me.

  “That’s a lot,” I said, finally managing to swallow.

  “Twins run in our family,” she explained, “so our numbers grow pretty fast. Here, let me show you some pictures.” She put her phone next to me and started scrolling. We ate and looked at pictures and she told me stories for the rest of our meal. Margie was so full of love and compassion, I felt like she was wrapping me in sunlight. I’d always enjoyed her company before, and I’d known she was a nice person as well as a powerful witch, but we’d never really had much of a chance to talk. By the time we’d cleaned up the kitchen, I felt like I had been adopted by a new auntie.