Reality Crisis

John locked the door of his office, holding his breath. It was that time of the night, right before he went home. It was always risky, attempting to leave the church. Especially during the turbulent times when peritioners were upset about something. And his sermon several days before encouraging couples to have sex had certainly upset the roost.

The young pastor walked out through the back of the church, attempting to look out for anybody approaching without looking like he was concerned about being approached. All day he'd been responding to concerns about his idea, if anybody approached him before he got to his car he'd definitely be in for a hour long conversation, minimally. He didn't know why it was always when he was trying to walk to his vehicle, or eat lunch on a long day, or get off the phone and to the toilet, but if anybody needed to give him an earful regarding something that he'd said it was bound to catch him then. Or at some other equally inopportune time.

Tonight it seemed like he was being granted a reprieve, however. The church was silent and the parking lot empty. "Thank you," he whispered quietly, eyes turning up to the sky gratefully. He loved his work, and his peritioners, but he'd spent far too long on the phone that day and his head was pounding enough that he was contemplating just crawling into bed and not working on his sermon, the upcoming school presentation he'd promised to give at the middle school, or even touching the email he'd seen at work from the local food bank, who probably were trying to organize another fund raiser at his wealthy-populated congregation. All were important matters to tend to, but the throbbing in his skull didn't want to concentrate on anything but a hot shower and his pillow.

The bible resting amongst other papers in his hand shifted slightly and he frowned, looking down at it and catching it in his other hand, pulling it back upright. Coincidence, probably, but he couldn't help feel it was something of a reminder. He was leading an extremely blessed life, if the worst he had to suffer was a night of working with a head ache than he had no business shutting down from every little malady. The food bank would want a swift answer, the school children needed inspiration, and even if he did wait till the next day to get started with those things tomorrow would likely be as hectic and complaint filled as today.

He looked back up, resolving to finish his work as efficiently as possible but also to finish it. Along with the resolution there seemed to be a new burst of air, smelling different and slightly cooler than he was used to, which helped with his headache. The pastor's eyes closed briefly, enjoying it as his hand reached for his car door handle... until it didn't find it. The blond frowned, opening his eyes and looking for his car, but it was nowhere to be seen. He looked around, but suddenly the entire landscape was different, not just the air or his car or the crunch of dirt instead of pavement under his shoes. John's eyes widened as he suddenly found himself in the midst of a town not his own, in fact he'd never been any place that looked like this. Run down and full of oddly dressed strangers, and he was somehow in the center of a street instead of the parking lot.

"What the-" habit shut his mouth before he finished the sentance, but his shock irrepressibly finished with a slightly gurgled sound of disbelief as he stumbled out of the street and with his back to the nearest wall. This definitely wasn't Dallas.

How could she have been so stupid? She should have listened to her father and run the first chance she had, but she had stayed, putting her and Phillipe in how much danger? Her father was safe, she only stayed because she had promised, but what was the point of keeping a promise to a ravenous beast? The moral code Belle held to so strictly was going to be the death of her one day. But not today.

The snow stung her skin as she ran out into the freezing night, whipping her cloak tightly around her shoulders. Climbing onto Phillipe, she set him into a run, glancing back only once at the looming castle behind her. "I'm sorry," she whispered, but she couldn't keep her word, not this time. The horse stalled, bucking up in fear, Belle's own heart racing at the growls suddenly surrounding them. Wolves. Oh god, they were everywhere!

Yanking on the reins, she turned them a different direction, darting forward beneath the gnarled trees, branches reaching out like bony fingers clawing at her cloak, trying to slow them down. Perhaps they could outrun them! It was their only chance!

The ground beneath gave way, the frozen ice beneath Phillipe's hoofs giving way beneath the heavy Clydesdale, plunging them both into freezing water. A painful gasp tore from Belle's throat, the water like knives against her skin. Her adrenaline was all that kept her going as her body began to shiver, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the reins harder and urged them to keep going. They made it, barely, to the shore, the horse stumbling as it escaped, leaving the wolves struggling in the water behind them.

The relief was overwhelming...they would make it! Setting Phillipe back at a run, the wind and ice whipped around them. Well, they'd make it if they didn't freeze first. Rounding a corner, several more wolves cornered them, having broken off from the pack previously. The wolves snapped at Phillipe's heels, startling the horse until it threw her, sending her tumbling into a snow bank. Grabbing a broken branch, her only weapon, she desperately swiped at a diving wolf, smacking it squarely in the head with a THUNK. Stumbling forward, she pulled at Phillipe's reins, trying to free him from where they had tangled on a limb.

The wolves circled in closer and she clutched the branch to her with trembling, frozen fingers, teeth chattering from cold and fear. Another dove, and she swung, but was too late to get the second that knocked her to the ground, the branch flying from her grasp, and with it any chance to escape this attack alive. This was it. This was the end. Determined to face her death rather than cower, she looked up at the advancing wolves as they snapped at her heels, at her arms, clawing at her ankle until the white snow stained red.

A startled scream tore from her throat as they leaped in for the killing blow but a flash of brilliant light surrounded her and suddenly she was plummeting into an abyss of darkness.

So this was death.

As her frozen body collided with the ground, it sent shockwaves throughout, and she cried out, her skin far too sensitive, already turning blue. Slowly her eyes began to adjust, her heart beating erratically as the forest came into focus. And there were no wolves. There was no snow. There was no Phillipe. Slowly pushing herself up on her arms, body trembling, she glanced around the darkened forest in confusion. The colors around her were dull, even the blood dripping down her calf seemed muted. Where was she?