A Puppet's Revenge (Wattys 2015)

Chapter Two

A/N: Picture of who I think Lucas should look like to the side: Wade Poezyn (and also one of my favourite songs so check it out!).

I've begun to make a cast, any thoughts?

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It is one day before my eighteenth birthday.

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I don't recognise this place. Where am I?

I'm walking. Walking under the light of the full moon, the grass damp against my bare feet, a long flowing dress, crimson as freshly spilled blood rustling around my ankles . The sky a dripping canvas of sparkling black ink looming above me like an ominous thought. The faint smell of lavender weaving it's way into my senses as a breeze caresses my skin tenderly, running ghostly fingers through my hair before dissipating into nothingness.

I am not where I should be.

Confused and afraid, I divert myself from the slightly indented grassy path upon hearing muffled cries for help in the distance.

I thought that I was alone...

I don't want to be alone...

My heart skips a painful beat: the agonised cries for help inciting a strange sensation of helplessness inside of me.

What's wrong?!

The night, indescribably beautiful only mere moments before, now appears to be incredibly sinister: choking me and wrapping shadowy tendrils around my ankles, causing me to fall painfully a couple of times.

Ignoring the pain, I break into a run, my breaths escaping me in short bursts, I finally tumble onto a waterlogged bank: the water from the expansive lake before me shimmering like mercury under the moonlight. There is a rotting wooden pontoon jutting out of the water a short way away: moss seeping out of the cracks like secrets from a traitor's mouth. Beneath it, was the source of the frantic pleas for help that had been silent for some time now: a hand would occasionally break the surface of the silvery lake, grasping at air.

Scrabbling to my feet, I sprint to the base of the unstable pontoon, my bare skin rubbed raw against the splintering wood beneath me. I try to call out to the drowning person before me, but no matter how hard I tried, no sound would escape my lips.

Why can't you hear me?!

Someone's watching me...

Approaching the edge of the pontoon, I drop onto knees and reach down: stretching my arm as far as possible in futile attempts to reach the other person's hand. Searching the water desperately, I cannot see the rest of the person past their hand that was mere centimetres away from mine.

Just a little.... further...

Tears streaming down my face, I lie on my front - my torso hanging over the precipice in another attempt to reach their hand. However, it seemed that the more effort I put into reaching them, the farther away they were.

Wait!

Our fingertips brushed and both of our desperate movements halted.

Sparks shone before my eyes and left an ecstatic trail of burning heat in my veins.

I took ahold of their hand and put all of my strength into pulling them up to the surface. From underneath the water, I could scarcely make out vague, distorted features: the water rippled too much for me to even see anything clearly. He had managed to raise another clenched fist above the water, before I was suddenly blown backwards by a surge of pure, undiluted power: causing me to release my tight hold on the person's wrist.