Black, thick liquid rushed through her aching throat and out of her frozen body. Voices spoke in hushed panic around her, but her ears couldn't decipher the words as convulsions threw her into a state of confusion and excitement.
Until only disorientation was left in her, and the amused laughter was silenced into oblivion.
With a sensation of dampness in her bones, Lynn felt exhaustion take a grip of her violated mind and drive her down a dark tunnel whose light remained too far from reach. Sleep welcomed her, and everything else faded away.
By the time Lynn was awoken by a soft rumbling in her ear, her sight was blocked by complete darkness. She stretched her sore legs, only for her feet to bump into an unexpected end. Blinking, she pushed sleepiness away and tapped around with her bare toes.
A wooden plank, she noticed with a frown.
She realized something else then: there was dirt beneath her fingers. Her eyes snapped open and she lifted her head, smashing it against another plank of wood that elicited a groan from her. With panic waving through her body, she searched around her and let out a surprised cry when something sharp scraped her skin — a nail.
"It's a nightmare," she soon found herself whispering. "It's not real."
But... what if it was? Because the pain in her hand told her otherwise, and so did the smell of dust. The dirt dug into her nails as she scratched the ground under her stuck body, and she could almost taste it in her mouth. After taking a long breath, her throat complained as the thick air made its way through.
Fuck!
She tried pushing against the planks, twisting her body in an attempt to place her legs against the unmoving wood. Panting, she bit back a wince as her fingers were scraped by another nail. But her efforts were fruitless, leaving her no other choice but to scream her lungs out — someone had to be there; someone had to hear her.
No one came to rescue her, and impotence was quick to transform her calls for help into frustrated punches.
And suddenly, something moved underneath. Her whole body froze as hands covered her mouth, muffling her startled scream behind their slimy touch. A strong taste of iron seeped between her lips as dirt and blood were smeared over them, before the scent of death numbed her senses.
"Lynn..."
Cold shivers crawled up her spine as someone whispered in her ear, and she shook her head in an attempt to break free.
"It's your fault... You let go," it continued, transforming into a voice she recognized — one that stabbed her heart with its merciless presence.
Against her own judgement, her teeth sank into his tattered skin and she gasped. "I thought Caleb... H-he was there," she choked.
The air escaped her lungs when his hand clasped around her throat, nails digging into it.
"Ah... you did that to him too, didn't you?" Malice dripped from his voice as he laughed, accompanying the crumbling of bones in the air. Beneath her trembling body, his twisted and convulsed — she felt it transforming, clawing at her back and scratching her skin. "He died because of you... just like me."
She bit the inside of her cheek as tears flooded her sight. "Mark, please... I'm sorry."
Guilt sank its fangs into her heart, drawing blood and filling her body with a sense of self-loathing. Why had she let go? Why had she allowed her paranoia to win, replacing her confidence with fear?
Long, inhuman fingers traced her arm before retracting. As something wrapped around her stomach tightly, she caught the shrill giggles of darkness and struggled against its hold.
"You will be."
As her heart was ripped out of her chest, Lynn screamed and... fell off the bed.
"What the hell...?" groaned the floor as light finally flooded her surroundings, taking her to a room she couldn't recognize.
But it mattered not; because death wasn't whispering in her ear, because her body wasn't trapped between hard planks of wood. The scent of dirt and blood was gone, and she breathed in the clean air with immeasurable relief. Heart still pounding hard against her ribs, Lynn placed a hand on the floor and hesitated.
That was no floor.
"Get off, will you?" the person snarled, snapping her out of her trance.
Her surprise met the ocean in a pair of eyes, before she scrambled away from the stranger. In her rush, she hit her head against a small table and groaned. With a hand pressed against the aching spot, Lynn lifted her gaze and watched the man as he scoffed and stood up.
"How you're still alive is really a wonder," he grumbled while sending her a look of visible annoyance. His voice was gruff; laced with antipathy and an underlying tone of exasperation.
She narrowed her eyes, feeling her initial surprise mould into irritation. "Who the hell are you?"
Running a hand through his tousled, raven hair, the man crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the closed door. And a switch turned in her head, pouring light upon her confusion.
"Wait, you're that man from yesterday. But how — why are you here? Who really are you?" she hissed the last question and searched behind her, but only the softness of a mattress met her hand.
Amusement seemed to glimmer in his blue eyes for the span of a second.
"And she remembers," he hummed. "You haven't thanked me for saving your life."
Lynn bristled. "You knocked me out!"
His lips pursed as irritation returned to his sharp features. However, before the conversation could develop into an argument, a knock on the door caught their attention. Moving away, the tall man turned the knob and stepped aside to reveal Oliver.
Relief flooded her as her friend looked at her and smiled slightly.
"I'm glad you're up and about, Lynn. How are you feeling?"
"Honestly, tired and confused. But I'll manage." Expecting more people to step in, a frown worked its way to her face as no one else followed Oliver. "Where are they?"
The two men shared a look that caused her frown to deepen, before Oliver pursed his lips. "I'm sorry, Lynn. But Dana... she refuses to come and see you. Nick is with her, so she's not alone."
It all came crashing down on her then, like a shower of needles. Her knees buckled as the remembrance of what had happened in the car and later in the house hit her with the strength of a hurricane, and she covered her mouth with her hands. The bed stopped her fall, and she sat with wide eyes filled with horror.
"What... what have I done?" she muttered to herself, yet her memories were fresh and clear.
Oliver walked up to her and placed a big hand on her shoulder. "Do you remember?"
She didn't dare to meet his eyes. "I wish I didn't. But, I swear, that wasn't me. I would never hurt Dana — or any of you — purposely."
Much to her relief, her friend believed her. "I know." He paused. "Is it true, Lynn? Is Mark dead?"
Her throat closed and words failed her, so she could only confirm it with a slow nod. His hand fell from her shoulder as Oliver sighed, before his shadow disappeared from her sight as he walked towards the door.
"Can you tell her that I'm sorry?" she asked in a whisper, eventually lifting her head to look at his retreating form.
"I will." He glanced at the other man, who was staring outside the only window in the room, before turning back to Lynn. "He has answers, so listen to him before jumping down his throat. Don't look at me like that — I know you, Lynn."
She scoffed and glared at the stranger's broad back. "He tried to kill me."
His head tilted to meet her furious stare, and he raised an eyebrow. "I saved your life, dumbass."
"You sneaked up on me in the middle of the night, tried to subdue me and knocked the fuck out of me when you couldn't!"
Oliver cleared his throat, but he was unable to break them from their glaring contest. With a sigh, he cut in, "He did save you just now, Lynn. And you can't afford to make enemies right now, so please—"
"Fine," grunted the woman while running a hand along her face.
The door closed, and she bit the inside of her cheek as expectance fell between her and the man who claimed to have saved her life. Letting out a puff of air, she crossed her arms over her chest and allowed her body to relax. Oliver was right — she couldn't let her overwhelming emotions get the better of her; she needed to reclaim her sanity and her common sense.
Feeling her exhaustion claw at her muscles, Lynn leaned against the headboard and nodded at the man. "Do you know what's after us?"
The wind whistled loudly outside, and his jaw tensed.
"Yes."
Her breath caught as his words hung between them.
"How? Who are you?" she repeated, anxious.
For a moment, she could have sworn his eyes filled with sorrow as a shadow darkened his olive skin.
"My name is Andrew Houston. I summoned the monster that haunts this place."
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Word count: 1575
Total count: 18.994