A Second Storm Over Cauldron Lake

Every artist has a muse ...

There were many moments that competed for the prized position of the best in Chloe's life. And unfortunately there were also many moments that competed for the not-so-prized position of the worst in her life. The night she spent at Cauldron Lake, in darkness, screaming her love's name, begging her to come back, was certainly one of them. Time after time she dove into the inky depths. Each time with a hope of finding Max. And each time that hope was crushed. She would emerge only to take air into her battered lungs and then she would dive again, refusing to entertain the thought that it was too late. Because Max would never think it was too late for Chloe. Even when by all accounts it was.

Chloe fought until her strength left her and long after that. But when the sun rose, she slowly limped back to the shore. Her mind wanted to press on, but her body couldn't. She felt the taste of blood. Her skin was cold as ice, but all her muscles burnt like embers. She collapsed on all fours and vomited a stream of lake water.

All the thoughts she had been blocking now came flooding in, as if a dam had been broken. "Max is dead. I should've called for help instead of flailing around. She had saved me and I failed her. All the people I love die. I should've stayed away from her. I killed her with my rotten luck".

Then she remembered all the ways that Max had saved her. How she burst out of her closet when David was raging. How she told Frank to "please step back" when he held a knife to her face. How she pulled her from the train tracks at the last moment. How she came back in time to make her listen to reason when the desire for revenge blinded her. How she told her, a girl that everyone had written off, that she was her number one priority, the only thing that mattered to her. How she refused to give up on her, even though Chloe had given up on herself. How she wiped away her tears in the long nights that came after the Storm, when she cried for her mother. Those memories filled her with strength again.

"She's not dead. I won't allow that!"- she said out loud, with deep conviction, as if such a declaration could make the sadistic universe care.

Suddenly, it dawned on her: "What if Max was pulled to a different world again?" While that thought was horrible in its own right, Max being stranded in a different universe was preferable to her drowning. If she was only lost, she could be found, like she was once already. But if she drowned ... Chloe couldn't claw someone back from the clutches of death, like Max did with her and Tristan.

Chloe staggered to the house. Water dripped from her clothes. She had kicked off her shoes in the lake and her feet clad in wet socks left prints on the wooden floor. She took her cell phone out of the bag. She would call Tristan. If someone knew how to bring Max back again it would be him. She considered calling David. No matter how she felt about him, one thing was clear - he didn't want her, and by extension Max, dead. But could he do anything about a threat that couldn't be shot or punched? And she would call 911. Maybe Max really just got lost and she was waiting to be picked up by rescuers at the far side of the lake, cold and soaked just like Chloe, but alive?

No reception at the cabin. She went back out, holding her phone in an outstretched hand, phishing for that precious one bar. She went to the shore, her eyes fixated upon the screen, completely ignoring the surroundings. Suddenly, she heard a woman's voice right next to her. She must've approached when Chloe was hunting for reception.

"I have good news and bad news. Your friend is not dead. But she is trapped in the Dark Place."

The woman was a blonde with grey eyes and full lips. She wore her hair in a ponytail. She looked around thirty. She was slightly taller than Max. She was dressed as one would dress for a hiking trip, but her clothes were dirty. Shoes and jeans spattered with soil, jacket with little tears and pieces of foliage sticking to it, as if she had gone way off the trail.