Chapter 2

After a few seconds, I chose a slight opening and aimed for it, hoping it would take me in the right direction. Unable yet to pick up any speed, I nonetheless continued pushing at the low hanging limbs, moving forward through the growth only to come to a stop again when my hair tangled within a groping branch.

“Dammit, let go!” I wailed, pleading, my voice rising in pitch with my panic as I struggled to free the strands from the limb.

Seconds passed as I fought with my captor, but in my fear it felt like days. More minutes passed, and finally gaining my freedom, I sucked in a harsh breath.

Disquiet coasted through my system like a freight-train at the sensation I was being watched. The feeling was overpowering, so strong, I was afraid to turn my head in fear I’d be facing whoever, or whatever might be there. Then, at the distinct crack of a limb behind me, I took off again, my breath puffing out in shallow, panicky huffs as I fought both the labyrinth before me and the fear of the monster that might be behind me. No, no might about it...I could feel it’s breath on the back of my neck.

As if the feeling of something breathing on me wasn’t enough, the unmistakable feel of a hand replacing the breath sent me into a frenzy. I tried to scream as the grip tightened, however, I lacked the ability to pull air into my lungs, and unable to make a sound, I silently sank to my knees.

I was losing consciousness and past the point of physically helping myself, so closing my eyes, I pictured an image resembling the solar flares of the sun and then pushed it outward, bringing forth the self-protective shield I sought. As it wrapped around me in a swirl of flame and heat, I somehow managed to maintain the disbursement long enough that the suffocating hand loosened, bringing with it my freedom and a lifting of the fetidness that had overtaken the air around me.

Even as I filled my lungs with oxygen, I started crawling. Tears rolled down my cheeks and my teeth chattered, but I continued forcing myself forward, a hand and a knee at a time. I knew the wetlands well, having spent most of my youth playing within their humid and mysterious depths, but I had only ever encountered whatever this thing was once, and I knew it was nothing other than pure evil: a malevolent force that had taken, Declan’s younger brother, Merrick Guchereau’s life with it when it left. Now, it seemed, it had returned and was once again hungering for death.

After a tortures amount of time, fear riding hard the whole way the creature of demise was trailing me—waiting, anticipating yet another chance to take me with it—I finally made my way out of the swamps and into my backyard.

I’d hardly gained any distance though, when my body started to convulse, trembles, wracking muscles already refusing to go any further, and collapsing, I lay in a heap in my yard. I wasn’t giving up though, so slowly, and I struggled into a kneeling position, all the while pleading with my rubbery limbs to straighten their ass up and regain some form of normality. With determination, and a near smile-destroying grinding of my teeth, I climbed to my feet.

Shaky and weak, but triumphant, I pushed my exhausted frame. One step at a time I crossed the yard, unstable as a toddler learning to walk.

When I finally reached the exterior of my cabin I wanted to kiss the damn thing, but settled instead on practically molesting it, as landing with my forearms against its rough siding, I began peeling several layers of skin off the underside of my forearms as I slid across its width. Though painful, I took it as it meant reaching my back door.

Seconds later and with heat from my raw skin practically frying the air, I grasped the door’s knob and twisted until it opened, then shoving it the rest of the way, I nearly fell on my face, relinquishing any remnant of pride I had left, as holding the doorknob in a death-grip, I used it’s support to remain upright.

With my balance restored, I loosened my death-grip on the sorely tested knob and quickly slammed the door shut behind me, then securing the lock, I leaned my back against the door as slowly sliding down its length, I lowered myself to the floor. Afterward, drawing my knees to my chest, I encircled them with my trembling arms and sobbed.

Time passed as I surrendered to my tears, but eventually there was no moisture left to cry with. Fatigue draped around me like a weighted blanket and I realized I needed to get up, and climbing to my feet, I toe’ed off my boots. Once that task was done, I moved to sliding out of my mud-encrusted jeans. With both jobs accomplished, I scooped the boots and jeans up in my arms and made my way to the laundry-room.

After dumping the muddy items onto the washer, I stripped out of my shirt. Then, wearing only my panties and bra, I padded my way through the living-room and into the hall.

As I went, I turned on every light I passed, for even the familiar furniture had taken on a new and sinister appearance to my traumatized brain.

Sights and sounds that had never bothered me before, as well, had now become threatening, and I constantly looked over my shoulder, checking.

Unwilling to dotter any longer than I had to within any of the rooms, all except the security of my bedroom that was, I moved forward, my steps hastened.

When I was finally able to enter my room, I stripped off my underclothes, and left them where they fell as I continued toward my bathroom.

Minutes later, I stood beneath the jets of the shower-head, allowing the soothing, magic fingers of the hot water to massage my shoulders and back. With my head bowed, I rubbed at the chill bumps coating my arms, with my hands, for though a small part of the ice slithering around inside of me had eased, the glacial grip of fear still hung on tight.

A small whimper escaped me as I lowered myself to the floor of the shower, and drawing my knees to my chest, I wrapped my arms around them protectively. Huddling into a tight ball, I began rocking back and forth.

How long I stayed that way, I had no idea, however, the change of water temperature got me up and moving, and after quickly washing and rinsing, I pushed aside the shower curtain and grabbed a thick, cotton towel. Once I’d wrapped it around my still chilled frame, I stepped out onto the bath mat and dried myself.

When I’d finished in the bathroom, I re-entered my bedroom and wandered over to my dresser, where pulling out a pair of sweatpants and a worn, yet comfortable t-shirt from its depths, I slid the clothing on and snuggled my cheek into the material of the shirt, letting out a soft sigh at its familiarity, its comfort.

Minutes passed as the material soothed me, then finally, with a heavy sigh, I pulled my face free of the shirt and headed out of my bedroom.