As Samantha's leap carried her over the wall, she looked down and caught her first sight of James. It was worse than she had imagined.

He was grappling with something furry and muddy gray. It was about the size of one of those yappy little angry dogs that always act like they're going to eat your face. True to form, it was also biting his face.

He was desperately trying to fight the creature off but was losing that battle miserably. As she fell from above, she watched in horror as it wriggled around his bloodied mess of a left hand and went to take a huge bite out of his right eye.

In a desperate, hopeless attempt to dislodge the animal from his arm, she flung out her hand as if to grab the creature, as if to swat it away or push it out of his face. Her action didn't make any real logical sense; it was just the panicked reaction to an impossible situation. She wasn't even remotely close, still 8 feet above him, so there was no possible way that she could have had any effect on the events below. Yet at that same moment, the animal fell off of James's arm and onto the ground like it had suddenly lost its grip.

Samantha landed in a crouch and didn't waste even half a second. She bounded forward and grabbed the animal around its furry little neck before it could recover its bearings.

It was a raccoon, or something like a racoon at least. It was all wrong, though. It was a too large, but too large in a lot of weird ways. It had an oversized snout and claws and teeth that were far too big. It was also missing part of its left ear. Actually, that last detail was just like the raccoon from--

"You again!" she growled at the creature.

Perhaps it recognized her from last night, or perhaps it just wanted to kill her for its own personal reasons, but it didn't waste a single moment before attacking. It bit at her hand and clawed and raked at her arm. She should have done something to stop it, to protect herself, but the shock of the situation had her dumbfounded.

It was definitely the same raccoon, but it had changed a lot in less than a single day. It had grown in more ways than would be sensible and had clearly turned into some sort of monstrous, dedicated fighter. The claws had been dangerous enough last night, but now they were more like talons, tearing into her flesh and tugging at her skin and muscle. Its teeth, too, had changed. They were thicker and sturdier at the base, longer all around, and even sharper than before. One of its fangs was missing, which hadn't been the case last night. That was probably a sign that the day had also been eventful for the local wildlife.

Most striking were its eyes. Whereas beforehand there was nothing remarkable about them, now they were misted over and gray. In fact, they glowed with a faint--

And suddenly the eyes lit up bright red. Not just bloodshot red, but rather glowing red embers, like little fires of hate and fury. Samantha was no expert in Crazy Devil Raccoon Eyes or whatever this was, but she had read enough stories to know that this damn creature was about to try something.

She had to stop it, whatever it was, but she didn't have the slightest idea how to do so. After a surprised couple of heartbeats, she let herself stop thinking and instead just allowed her instincts handle the situation. She held the creature with its horrible little eyes looking into hers, and then... And then...

And then it was over. The demonic little raccoon was suddenly dead. It went all limp and squishy, and the fires in its eyes slowly faded back to gray.

For a while she just held the thing, limp in her outstretched hand. She knew that she had been the one who killed it, though she hadn't the slightest idea how she had done so. It didn't look particularly injured, but examining closer she noticed two of its paws were missing, sliced impossibly smoothly as if by a magic knife. Apparently it happened not long ago judging by the lack of a mess.

As she looked, she also noticed blood starting to trickle slowly from underneath her palm where she gripped its neck. Whether the blood was hers or the animal's she didn't know, but there was a lot of it, and more leaking out every second.

Her intrusive worries began stalking their way back into her mind while she stared at the dead raccoon's cold eyes. It represented so many things to her: a threat she had never believed she could overcome, a danger from which she had only barely managed to save one of her closest friends, and the kind of animal she previously thought she respected. The creature was also a lot like herself, somehow. It had become something else overnight, reminding her of the way she felt like she was losing herself.

This was also the first intelligent animal she had ever killed, and definitely the first thing she'd ever killed with just her bare hands. The raccoon had played heavily into her nightmares from last night, and now that it was dead, those cold eyes seemed even more menacing than ones that previously haunted her memory.

She couldn't get away from those eyes. They bore into her, playing havoc with her memory like some weird déjà vu; she couldn't distinguish the memories of her nightmares from her own mundane thoughts of the moment. Had this all happened before? How many times? She could feel her reality start to fall apart around her, pulling her into her thoughts as though her imagination was her own private, confusing world. Samantha's hands started to shake again. The more she tried to stop it the worse it got. It went from a slight tremble to increasingly violent shuddering. Within moments, her hand was shaking the dead raccoon around like it owed her money. Perhaps it owed her bells, since it was a raccoon. Was that right? Could this raccoon talk? She felt almost like it was calling her name.

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"Samantha?"

The voice sounded familiar, but the raccoon's mouth wasn't moving. Samantha frowned with confusion.

"Samantha, are you okay?"

It was David's hand on her shoulder, not just his words, that finally pulled her attention back into the real world. She glanced up to see him with a look of genuine concern on his face.

Her confusion turned to relief at seeing that face. It felt as though seeing him standing there reminded her that she was real, that she was human. She could feel her mind flooding back into the real world, away from her dark thoughts. It felt like being pulled back into a warm house after standing out on the doorstep in the chill of an icy wind.

She released a breath that she didn't realize she had been holding. He had asked if she was okay. Was she? For a while she hadn't been. But now? Yes, she thought she was okay now.

Samantha just nodded, not trusting her voice right now.

"What color are your..." David started, before trailing off. She looked up to see him biting his lip, and then apparently deciding to say nothing more.

Had he noticed something wrong with her? How much had he seen? She shrank back in self-conscious embarrassment, trying her best to disappear.

David exhaled slowly and squeezed her shoulder a little tighter.

"I'm going to check up on James again real quick, just hold tight for a minute more. Is that okay?"

She nodded again, and looked once more at the raccoon. She had to hold tight. She'd already been holding it tight for a while now, but she redoubled her grip just in case. Its eyes, now cold and hollow, seemed to glow red in her mind whenever she looked away. She didn't want to see them, but closing her own eyes just made it worse.

Her thoughts had begun to grow dark and worrisome again. This wasn't natural. She recognized it, but she couldn't stop it from happening. It felt like there was some malevolent little presence inside her head trying to drag her under. She was no longer herself, not entirely, not anymore. She assumed she needed to fight this, perhaps to focus on what was real. She went back to the raccoon in her hands. It was real. It was also dead. Why, again, was she still holding it?

There was something about the raccoon that she thought she was supposed to be figuring out. It owed her money? Or maybe she owed it something? She vaguely remembered being told she had to repay some sort of loan to a raccoon. Was that this racoon? Was she off the hook now that she had just murdered her lender?

She squeezed the little beast's neck a bit tighter to try to feel some sort of physical sensation. Something physical and real. This time she noticed blood squishing between her fingers.

The blood dripped down her knuckles now. A rivulet clung to her palm and flowed down her forearm to her elbow. It was just so gruesome, just like this whole scene had been. The image burning itself into her memory like a car crash. Blood. Everywhere. James was hurt. She knew he was bleeding, absolutely covered in blood and injuries. But she didn't look. She couldn't. She was supposed to protect him and she had failed his trust so horribly. His hands, his arms, his face, she remembered that first, terrifying glimpse from above of James screaming and bleeding. What kind of horrible person would let that happen to him? What kind of creature had she become?

Her heart was pounding now. The angry, shameful thumping in her chest shook her whole body with each beat. Her vision began to tunnel into darkness once again and the ground felt like it started to sway. Why, again, was she still holding this stupid raccoon?

Why was she still holding it?

"Samantha? What's going on, are you okay?" Once again, David's voice and his touch on her arm pulled her back from somewhere she should never have gone. It was the gentle hand of a friend stopping her from falling over the edge of an abyss. When she met his eyes he tilted his head to the side with a look of consideration, almost as if he didn't know her. Did he still know her? Was she still the same person? Were her friends safe around her? Who was she going to kill next? She tried to center herself again but it was no use. She had gotten lost. Lost. Gone. She never should have wandered so far away from the real world. It was that damn raccoon; this was all the raccoon's idea.

She saw something deep in the animal's eyes. Those lifeless, gray, vacant eyes stared back into her soul with unrepressed malice. It hated her. Everything hated her. The hate of the world echoed in her head like a thunderclap.

"Samantha?" David sounded concerned, worried. She could hear his fear in the way his voice cracked.

Samantha wondered if David was worried about the same thing she was. Did he know that the dead raccoon was already plotting its revenge? This was all going to end in death and blood. There was so much blood everywhere. It was all over her body, all over James, all over the ground, all over this smug little horrible scheming raccoon. The world around her was slick with blood. It was a nauseating display of color and sticky wet beautiful horror. She wanted to scream. Or perhaps cry. Or maybe throw up.

"Samantha!" David shouted just inches away. He sounded really, really scared now. Terrified. Just like her. She was too scared to even understand herself. But she could at least understand David, and she didn't want him to have to worry about her. His voice shook her, and for once, Samantha actually listened.

Still holding the dead raccoon at arms length in front of herself, she tried to open her hand. Her body fought her, it didn't want her to be in charge. Why would her hands trust someone like her? But David was worried, so she fought back. One by one she forced her fingers open, swaying slightly on her feet with the effort. The animal finally fell to the ground with a squishy thump. Her palm was wet, bright red. No cuts on her palm. Just blood. Blood on her hand, blood on her soul. Her ears roared with the fury of unseen terrors, but after she finally dropped the raccoon, the sound slowly faded into the rushing of her heartbeat.

Her vision started to come back. She was breathing again, panting like she had been running. She took two steps back from the mess on the ground and sat down. She wrapped her arms around her shins, ignoring her new injuries and the warm blood that had gotten everywhere. She closed her eyes and rested her forehead on her knees and sobbed.

"Hey, you're safe now," said David. He was kneeling next to her. "You did everything right. You saved James. He'll be fine. You took care of it. You'll both be fine. You can rest now."

"I..." she found speaking difficult. But his offer of rest sounded intoxicating. Just the mere idea of rest and relief made her whimper. She needed it. Her head spun and the world heaved. She swallowed hard and had to take a few breaths to collect herself before she could actually string together a sentence.

"I think I should go lie down," she said between the tears. She was exhausted, but she didn't want him to leave her alone. She needed to not be alone right now.

"Can you please help me?" she added in a whisper.

"Don't worry," he said, "I've got you."