The Edge of the World

Chapter Twenty-Five

They walked together, strolling through the woods with their pinkies interlocked and eyes taking in everything as if they were children, new to the world. Life had come into existence in a few hours, and the winter was gone, replaced with a soft heat, still not natural for the region they thought they were in, but much more pleasant than the arctic temperatures they'd been experiencing.

Birds sang, flew, pecked, and bickered. Squirrels rushed past them, and ants crawled along the trunks of the now living trees. It was as if all they'd seen and endured had been nothing more than a dream.

The formerly frozen streams they crossed were now filled with fish, frogs, and algae. Elk and deer gazed fearlessly in the meadows and the sky was warm, blue, and cloudless. It left them breathless and confused, uncertain if they should find solace in the new environment, or see it as yet another reason to be afraid.

Once they stopped to watch some bees seeking their nectar in a field of wildflowers. Petals of all colors shimmied in the light breezes, their perfumes filling the air with sweetness. Despite the serenity of the moment, Tatum was uneasy as she noticed the cracking of branches behind her. A low murmuring from the shadows, mixed with cries, and breathless sobs seemed to erupt from the dense darkness of the woods and engulf her into a type of old movie, complete with worn images and pixilated hues. It was then she realized that she was the screamer! Suddenly, her head began to swim... dizzying visions unnerving her, almost dropping her to her knees.

Standing in this field, hand in hand with a boy, and a rumbling voice merging with the electric crackle of lightning.

Be fruitful...

Whatever you need will be provided by the Earth...

Obey my laws...

The flashing images, popping from foggy to overly bright almost made her physically ill, like having motion sickness. Releasing Ian's hand, she leaned forward, bracing her palms on her knees as she breathed through the nausea. Ian reached for her, resting a hand on her shoulder as he spoke to her in concern.

Tatum couldn't hear him over the screams of pain as the visions shifted into something much more horrific. There was blood fucking everywhere!

"My children," she screamed, unaware she was crying aloud, so blinded she was by the memories. "They killed my children!"

She sobbed as she looked at her hands with wide, terrified eyes. In the memory, they were covered in the blood of her children, but before Ian's unwavering stare, they were clean.

Ian caught her before she fell, her legs giving out from the weight of despair, and he pulled her to him, murmuring incoherently as tears leaked from his eyes. This was scaring him. He didn't know what she was , but he didn't want her in that place deep inside her mind any longer. How could he protect her from her own goddamned memories?

"Tatum, come back to me," he begged as she screamed, cried, shrieked, and punched at his chest, before finally going limp in his ever-sturdy embrace.

During her hysteria, he lowered them to the ground, sitting her across his thighs, while stroking her head, like a parent might in an effort to soothe her.

Even after she fell silent, he continued to caress her sun warmed dark hair, waiting for her to speak rather than forcing anything on her. Ian understood the visions this island produced and sometimes they seemed so real.

Too real.

Ah, fuck, he thought. Perhaps all of it was real or some wild hallucination. It really didn't matter for once they were trapped in one, it was like they were living it in that awful moment.