Then, without a word, Maya turns and runs back to her room, fear driving her.
She slams the door shut behind her, her trembling fingers fumbling with the lock.
The c*****e she just witnessed plays on endless repeat behind her eyelids - blood-matted fur, lifeless bodies, those haunting blue eyes that seemed to pierce straight through her soul.
Her stomach lurches violently. She barely makes it to her en-suite bathroom, collapsing beside the toilet as her body convulses.
The meager contents of her stomach empty themselves as she retches, tears streaming down her face.
The porcelain is cool beneath her fingers as wave after wave of nausea wracks her frame.
"This can't be happening," she whispers between heaves, her voice raw and broken. "This can't be real."
But the metallic scent
