text: This is a story I started on r/WritingPrompts and some readers wanted me to continue it so I'm moving it here. This is part 1 so if anyone is interested in continuing to read keep an eye on the subreddit because this is where I'll be posting it for now on. I'll post the prompt first so everyone can see where the story is coming from. &#x200B; **\[WP\] Your alarm went off this morning like always. You got up, got around and went to work. When you arrive, you see your friend Ed. He staring at you like you’re a ghost. He says, where have you been. No one has seen you in over three years.** &#x200B; “Yeah, right,” Billy said to Ed who was staring at Billy with wide eyes. Billy went to grab his turnout gear from his locker but when he picked it up, he noticed there was a different name on the back. “Smith? Isn’t that the new guy?” Smith’s name was stickered across the top of Billy’s locker too where his own used to be. “Very funny,” Billy said with a sarcastic and annoyed tone to his voice. “Where’s my gear at?” “Dude, we cleared out your locker three years ago when you disappeared. Now you just walk in here like nothing ever happened? I’m surprised that your key card still works.” Billy could tell by the look on Ed’s face that Ed was serious. His own face changed to an expression of confusion. “Where have you been?” Not knowing how to answer, Billy started to feel very sick to his stomach. This had to be a joke. There was no way that it could be anything else. He had gone to bed the night before like always. Nine o’clock. That’s what time he made sure he was laying down by on work nights. No, Ed was lying, and he knew it. It was impossible for him to have been gone for three years. Who was paying his rent? Why hadn’t his car been towed? None of this made any sense. Peter walked into the locker room and his jaw dropped. “Billy?” Coffee in hand and a blank stare on his face, Peter was both confused and happy to see his old co-worker and friend. “Is that really you?” “This is a joke, right?” Billy asked Peter. “You guys got together and decided to pull a good one on me, didn’t you?” “You’ve been gone for three years, man!” Peter said nearly shouting. “I was just here three days ago like always,” Billy argued back. “We had that car fire on the interstate and pulled that lady out before she burned...” Billy stopped talking and suddenly was lost in memory. “That lady.” Trying to get Billy’s attention, Ed held his phone in front of Billy’s face. When Billy finally came back out of his thought he focused on the screen and saw a Facebook group dedicated to finding him. Ed scrolled through the posts of people wishing him to be found and even a few possible sightings. Billy snatched the phone out of Ed’s hand when he saw a picture of a blonde lady with a red shirt and gold necklace. Sherry Berkheimer. She had posted multiple times, but Billy only recognized her as the woman they pulled out of that car that was, to him, only three days ago. “That’s her,” Billy said. There was something about her that Billy couldn’t put his finger on. Then he remembered something she did after Billy dragged her away from the burning mess that was her car on the side of the busy interstate. She had grabbed his arm and whispered something, but he couldn't make out what it was. Through his mask and the sound of his breathing, like Darth Vader, it was too loud to hear her. The traffic speeding by with no care for the first responders safety didn’t help with the noise either. She was the key to figuring this out. Still confused and not totally accepting of what was happening, Billy knew he had to find her and couldn’t explain it either. He just knew that’s what he had to do. There was just one problem. When Billy clicked on her picture and looked through her profile he realized, by the posts made on her wall, that she was now missing too. &#x200B; \ Sherry Berkheimer woke up sweating profusely in the middle of the night. Her sheets were soaked through to the mattress. The night sweats had been going on for a couple of weeks now, but they were getting worse. So were the nightmares that accompanied them. It was so bad that she had to strip down from her wet clothes and towel dry. There was no use trying to go back to bed. She knew she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep again, knowing this from all the previous nights she had woken up in a swampy mess. Putting on fresh night clothes before wadding her sheets in a ball, she washed her sheets once again and put on some fresh coffee. Three fourteen A.M. Right in the middle of the witching hour. That’s what the clock said when she threw her tired self onto the couch and turned on the television. She was trying to forget the nightmares, but she couldn’t. Getting drunk before bed was the only thing that had made them stop (can’t dream when you’re passed out) but even that had stopped working. Each night they became more vivid, always starting out the same way. A blazing ball of fire that threatened to burn her up then a young man pulling her to safety. If that’s where it had ended, then everything would have been fine but that’s not how it worked out. Standing behind the young man was a shadowy figure and Sherry knew that’s what was responsible for setting the fire that was meant to kill her. As punishment for foiling its plans, the shadow took the young man instead of her, dragging him into some dark, black abyss. Like a black hole in the middle of space, it spun and swallowed the man up, the shadow going with him. That’s usually where she woke up but not tonight. This time the dream went on. She followed the man into the abyss, screaming and yelling at the shadow to let him go. She wouldn’t let the shadow take him, he had saved her and now it was her turn to save him. When eight o’clock came around Sherry was ready to head to work. Her make up was on but nothing could hide the tired bags under her eyes. She filled her silver travel mug to the brim with more coffee and she was off. In her black Toyota Camry, she exited her neighborhood, drove through town, and hit the interstate. The first half of the drive was normal enough, except for the exhaustion she felt from a lack of sleep, but that changed when she felt a loud thump on her driver’s side door. Reacting quickly to the car that had just side swiped her, Sherry jerked her wheel to the right causing her car to spin before flipping several times and coming to a stop on the median of the interstate, right past the guard rail. She had landed right side up and for this she felt lucky, but her door wouldn’t open. She felt a gash on her head from where she had hit the steering wheel and knew she was hurt bad. “My phone,” she said with panic in her voice. “Where’s my phone.” No one was stopping and somewhere during the summersaults her phone was tossed out of her reach and now she couldn’t find it. To make matters worse, a small cloud of black smoke was now rising from engine compartment right in front of her eyes. Then the flames shot up from under the hood. Frantically, Sherry jiggled the car door, but it was no use. She was stuck, feeling too weak and hurt to crawl out any other way. Slowly the flames made their way towards the cab of her car. Sirens blared from far away. “Please be coming for me. Please be coming for me. Oh, please God let them be coming for me,” Sherry pleaded out loud. Lucky for her, they were. Someone who had witnessed the accident had called nine-one-one and multiple passer-bys after that reported that the car was now one fire. But no one stopped. “Dispatch to Engine Six, we have reports that the vehicle is now on fire with possible entrapment.” “Ten-four. Vehicle on fire with possible entrapment,” the lieutenant answered back over the radio before telling the engineer to step on it. It was a redundant statement though. They were already going as fast as the engine would take them. Flames were now right on top of Sherry, and she screamed as they fought to engulf her. Then she realized, this was it! This was her dream! The sirens were now right behind her, but the smoke was closer, and she began to choke on the soot filled air, reeking of burning plastics and chemicals. It smelled like cancer. Just in time, her window shattered, and a gloved hand reached in to grab her. It hurt being dragged through the glass shards and Sherry screamed but she was grateful. The man who had grabbed her was covered from head to toe but when he stopped to make sure she was breathing, Sherry could see his eyes clearly through his face piece. They belonged to the young man in her dream and standing behind him was the shadow. “He’s right behind you,” Sherry said to the firefighter, but he couldn’t understand her. “It’s ok, ma’am. You’re safe now. The ambulance is pulling up right now,” said the firefighter. That’s when Sherry passed out from her injuries.