Dream Phantom

The air in the cramped room was thick with the scent of damp earth and stale fear. Twelve-month-old Luna slept soundly, her tiny chest rising and falling with each innocent breath. Above her, a spirit web, woven with white feathers, shimmered faintly in the gloom, a silent guardian against unseen horrors.

He watched her, a knot of resentment tightening in his gut. His parents, once solely devoted to him, now doted on her, their attention a constant ache. His hand, slender and trembling, reached out, his fingers brushing against the soft feathers before closing around the spirit web's red string. He yanked.

The web, suddenly freed, dangled in his grasp. He licked his lips, a dry, nervous gesture, and froze as Luna stirred, a soft whimper escaping her lips. He held his breath, the frantic beat of his own heart echoing in his ears.

Moments later, he exhaled, a slow, silent release. He backed away, his moccasins scuffing softly on the dirt floor, each step a further descent into forbidden territory. This was a sin, a dangerous defiance of tradition, but the bitterness within him tasted sweeter than any fear.

A wolf’s howl, distant and mournful, sliced through the night. He glanced around, paranoia prickling at his skin. To be caught stealing a sacred spirit web was an act of shame, a violation. Perhaps, he mused, if he simply hid it, they would blame the great Asibikaashi, the Spider Woman, the mythical catcher of bad dreams.

A low growl, far too close, shattered his thoughts. A shiver, icy and unwelcome, crawled up his spine. He turned slowly, his eyes widening as two glowing orbs stared back from the darkness. One hand instinctively released the spirit web, dropping it, as the other fumbled for the small knife at his waist. The wolf's hackles rose, its fangs, sharp and gleaming, flashed in the almost absolute black.