Eleanor's eyes flew open with a gasp, and she found herself shrouded in an inky blackness so thick it seemed to suffocate her. But it was the deep, dark red mist swirling above her hands that made her heart stumble.
At first, confusion swirled in her mind like the mist, but then she knew, with a sinking feeling, that she was trapped in a nightmare. The last thing she remembered was drinking that wine...
"Death by the night. Pain by the night." A low whisper seemed to materialize in the darkness, drawing her eyes back to the mist like a moth to flame.
"The night," she whispered, and Ares' leapt to her mind like a spark.
"Yes..." the whisper drawled, and the mist in her hands transformed into two large twisted, rotten horns that writhed in her grasp like living things.
Fear clawed at Eleanor's heart, and she frantically flung the horns away, slamming her eyes shut. "What were those?!" she screamed into the darkness, her voice trembling.
