What just happened? The st thing I remembered, oh, I had no clue. Everything felt hazy like a bad hangover, but I don’t remember drinking. Ah, this must be a dream. What else could it be since I now stood in the center of a clearing, surrounded by tall trees, wearing an outfit straight out of a Renaissance festival?

  It was a flowing green dress with short sleeves, cinched at the waist by a velvet bodice in the same hue. Intricate golden embroidery ran along the hem, falling well below my knees. What made me think it was a dream, besides the beautiful outfit, was that my frame was thinner and fairer, my feet smaller, tucked into cute little green slippers.

  My hands, too, looked different. They were dainty, with long, delicate fingers, neatly kept nails, and no polish, a far cry from my usual stubby, fat fingers and cracked nails. My hair had transformed as well. It was no longer the short, oily, dirty blonde I disliked, but a beautiful raven bck which fell in the middle of my back.

  And most of all, I had, well, breasts. Something like this could only happen in dreams.

  However, what confused me a little was that the air filling my lungs felt real, crisp, and clean, carrying the earthy scent of the forest. This couldn’t be real, could it? No, this had to be a dream.

  "Hello? Anyone?"

  Oh, wow, my voice changed. Soft and sweet like honey. Different, but I wasn’t compining; I liked the whole package. Since I’ll eventually return to my old boring body, I might as well enjoy myself. I can be happy in my dreams at least.

  So, what was I supposed to do now?

  Scanning my surroundings, I spotted a narrow dirt path leading out of the clearing toward a small wooden bridge and behind me, a dark forest. Yeah, that was a hard no. I had no desire to get lost among the trees and end up a snack for some monster.

  Thankfully, I encountered no goblins, ghouls, or stray trolls as I crossed the bridge over the small creek that babbled pleasantly. Beyond that, the forest opened to an expanse of green fields covered with cheerful blue flowers.

  For a brief moment, I wondered if I had died. Was this the afterlife? My grandmother always insisted it was full of fire and brimstone. Told me that I would go there often enough. If I had shuffled off my mortal coil, an endless field of blossoms seemed well, rather nice.

  At least the weather made my stroll through what I silently dubbed the Elysium Fields pleasant, save for the occasional cool breeze raising goosebumps along my bare arms. Still, the walk remained uneventful, just more grass and delicate blue flowers. Eventually, I slowed my pace. I had been traveling aimlessly.

  Swishing my skirt around, I decided not to worry about it. Cresting a rge hill not long after allowed me to get a good look around. In front of me, the path continued through more blossom-covered meadow, but there was something off in the distance, buildings perhaps. Behind me, the trail curved back toward the vast forest, and beyond that, rolling hills and, further away, snow-covered mountain peaks.

  But no farms. No vilges. No cities. Not your stereotypical wizard’s tower.

  Where the heck was I?

  Now I hadn’t made the journey alone, though. Birds fluttered overhead, bees buzzed near the wildflowers, and even a small lizard paused briefly in my path before darting away. Life existed in this dream. But now, I desperately wanted someone to talk to, to ask a few questions, maybe get a bite to eat, a gss of water. Or even better, a phone to call for help.

  Okay, that might be farfetched, especially in Renaissance garb. And who would I call anyway? Friends, maybe. My parents? Perhaps, although I haven’t spoken to them in some time. I love them, but they don’t understand; they never did.

  No, it didn’t matter anyway; this was a dream, and I wasn’t home.

  The sun was high in the sky when I finally spied a cluster of six white stone buildings, circling a central courtyard. The dirt path stopped near one structure but continued beyond, resembling more of a road.

  The rgest of them stood two stories tall, built from hand-cut white stone, its roofs adorned with deep red cy tiles. Its architecture was strange, neither historical nor fantasy, not even a fictional favorite gothic, but distinctly unfamiliar.

  And yet, my hopes were shattered much like the buildings. They were weathered, missing tiles, and two had colpsed roofs. Whoever lived here was long gone, leaving little chance of finding a phone, much less a snack.

  Standing on my tiptoes did little help, but from what I could see, the courtyard cked signs of life. There were no carts, cars, farmers in the fields, or even a wandering cat. Instead, tall grass smothered the courtyard, overtaking nearly everything.

  Thankfully, near one edge of the courtyard, I spotted a well. Or at least I hoped that’s what it was. Unlike the buildings, it was in surprisingly good condition. A thick wooden cover shielded it, and a coil of rope alongside a bucket atop it appeared even newer. Relief washed over me when I discovered an almost brand-new wooden cup hiding among the wildflowers.

  People have been here recently.

  Unfortunately, the wooden cover looked heavy. The chance of moving it with my dainty arm appeared slim. However, much to my surprise, I lifted it with ease. Apparently, this little body was stronger than it seemed.

  Keeping a wary eye on the rgest structure, I lowered the bucket into the well. Something about the pce unsettled me; I couldn’t pinpoint why, but an unease made me nervous.

  While I pondered that, I pulled up two buckets, spilling them out before filling my cup. The water was wonderfully cold, better than the finest champagne. As I drank, I finally knew what disturbed me about this pce.

  The ground surrounding the central building was eerily bare. Unlike the overgrown ruins, no grass or flowers dared encroach. The other buildings were missing their shutters, yet this one remained intact, tightly locked except for the front door. That lone opening revealed only a few feet of the interior, as if the sunlight feared entering.

  That building felt...evil. Somehow, I knew it, and could feel its malefic presence cwing toward me. Oddly, I wasn’t afraid. Instead, something deep within me screamed to burn it down. But, for now, I had neither matches nor gasoline.

  Shame.

  Since leaving the forest, a strange warmth had been growing inside me. I didn't understand it, but it was unfamiliar and comforting in stark contrast to what I felt inside the two-story building. We would have a reckoning with whomever or whatever lurked inside, but unfortunately not today.

  After one st sip of water, I washed my hands and face, then rolled the well cover back into pce. I needed to leave this pce before nightfall. Taking one st look back, I continued onward; hopefully, before the day ended, I would find a safe pce to sleep.