Meadowbrook stepped out of the hospital. Moonshine poured across the village, illuminating quiet cottages and a peaceful night. She moved toward the central well, the only sounds being a chill breeze and the erratic beating of her own heart. Somnus glided close behind, stepping in time with her. Only a single set of hoofprints were left behind.
She sat by the well, leaning against the worn stone, tears still flowing freely down her face. Still water reached nearly to the brim. She touched the surface with a hoof, sending out a ripple. A shiver ran through her at the cold touch.
Somnus leaned toward her ear. “Save them,” he whispered.
Leaning her head over the open, her tears fell from her face and impacted on the surface of the water. Each drop hissed, emanating a blue mist. Somnus leaned over her, expectant, sweet breath hitting the back of her neck. She caught her reflection. Only her tired and worn face stared back.
The mist grew, coalescing into a thick fog, each hiss of steam growing the conglomeration. It spread out, heading toward the quaint cottages of the village. It seeped under door cracks and blew through open windows.
Absolute quiet followed until a cough broke the silence. Then another, followed by dozens more. The village filled with screams. Meadowbrook heard none of it.
She smiled.