The beach was a desolation of grey sand and white foam. The ocean didn't roar here; it whispered, a constant hush, hush, hush that sounded like a parent trying to soothe a crying child.
Noah turned the ring over and over in his numbed fingers. He felt like he was trying to solve a puzzle with missing pieces, but the picture on the box had been torn away.
Who is she? Where is she? Why does this ring hurt more than the cold?
"You look like a wet rat, darling. And not the cute kind."
The voice was smooth, rich, and dripping with honey. It cut through the sound of the rain like a hot knife. Noah jumped, nearly dropping the ring in the sand.
Standing a few feet away, under a large black umbrella that seemed to repel the gloom, was a vision.
She was a cougar—not the animal, exactly, but a feline figure that stood tall, elegant, and disturbingly human in her posture. She wore a pristine white dress that somehow remained spotless amidst the mud. Her eyes were a striking, electric green, glowing with a predatory intelligence.
"I... I didn't hear you approach," Noah stammered, wiping rain from his eyes.
"Cats are quiet when they want to be," she purred, stepping closer. The umbrella tilted, shielding him from the rain. For a moment, the world was dry. "I'm Catherine. And you must be the Purr-sident's new pet project. The thumb-haver."
Noah flinched. "I'm Noah."
"Of course you are." She smiled, revealing sharp, white teeth. "You look tense, Noah. Is the city treating you poorly? Is the rain getting into your head? It does that, you know. It dissolves the glue that holds the mind together."
"I'm just... tired," Noah admitted. The cold he had traded for the ring was making his jaw ache. "I feel like I'm fighting a war, but I don't know who the enemy is."
"The enemy is pain, sweetie," Catherine said softly. She reached into a small, beaded purse hanging from her arm. "You know, I used to know a Noah once. In the Before Times. He was always thinking too much. Ruined his complexion. He had terrible frown lines. Just like you."
She pulled out a small, colorful wrapper. It crinkled loudly in the silence.
"Peace offering?" she asked, holding it out. "It's just a little candy. Citron and valerian root. Helps with the nerves. The Purr-sident doesn't like his pets anxious."
Noah looked at the candy. It was bright pink, stark against the grey world. He looked at Catherine's green eyes. They seemed kind. Or maybe just hungry. He couldn't tell.
"Come to poison me?" he asked, a weak attempt at a joke.
"Silly boy," she laughed, a sound like wind chimes in a storm. "If I wanted you dead, I'd just let you freeze out here. Hypothermia is so much cleaner than poison. Take it. Trust me."
Trust. That was a funny word. It felt slippery.
Noah took the candy. He unwrapped it. It looked like a small, oval pill. He hesitated.
"It will make the cold go away," Catherine whispered, leaning in. She smelled of antiseptic and lilies. "It will make the ring stop burning."
He popped it into his mouth.
It tasted like chalk and artificial strawberries.
"Good boy," Catherine purred.
The world tilted. The sound of the ocean became a dull roar, like blood rushing in his ears. The cold vanished, replaced by a heavy, suffocating blanket of warmth.
"I..." Noah tried to stand, but his legs were made of rubber. "I feel..."
"Sleepy," Catherine finished for him. She stepped closer, her white dress blurring into a bright, blinding light. "Let go, Noah. Stop fighting. It's easier when you don't remember. It's easier when you just float."
The last thing Noah saw before the darkness took him was Catherine's green eyes turning into the blinking lights of a medical machine.