The Elementals of Edgewood

Chapter Four

Dumping his bag onto the floor, George flopped onto his bed with a groan. He instantly felt his muscles relax, the weight of his exhaustion pressing him down into the mattress. But just as he was beginning to doze off, an idea floated into his head.

George forced himself to stand, sliding onto his desk chair in front of his laptop. His momentum stopped at the search bar, fingers hovering over the keyboard. How could he describe what he had experienced over the last couple of days in a way that Google would understand?

 After thinking for a moment, George typed 'Strange dreams and strengthened senses'  into his search bar.

Scrolling past all the results of websites giving advice on 'How to strengthen your senses', an article caught his eye. A website with a list of superhero powers, claiming his symptoms were a sign of 'The beginnings of becoming a superhero'. He snorted.

Another site claimed that he could be losing one of his senses, causing the others to strengthen to compensate. But George knew he'd felt all five strengthen, and it wasn't just his senses, it was the strange rushes of adrenaline that accompanied it.

When the next site he clicked on told him he was experiencing symptoms of third stage brain cancer, George decided to give up on the internet.

Sighing, he walked across his room, opening his French doors. He walked out onto the balcony, which wrapped around the front of his house, overlooking the suburban street below. The cool breeze tickled his bare skin.

George could see Nate's house from the height, about three blocks away, and the school and it's fields in the middle of the township near the western hills.

Edgewood was a harbour town. The western hills followed the bay, stretching right around the harbour and rising into steep cliffs. On the eastern side, the hills sloped down into flat farmland behind the coastline.

Edgewood's township faced the harbour exit, stretching right back into the valley between the western and eastern hills. The only road out of the town cut through this valley, disappearing from George's view at the peak of the joining hills. 

To his left, he could see the flatness of the ocean on the horizon, and the tiny lump of Elfennol Island in the middle of the harbour.  He could see the beginning sunset, a weak yellow in the cloudless sky, descending on it's journey below the western hills.

George had lived in Edgewood his entire life. His father was a doctor at the local hospital, and his mother was the receptionist of the local police station, so he'd always been a part of the community.

He'd come to love the thick forests of the valley, the grasslands of the eastern side, and the beautiful Edgewood beaches.

The Davis's lived just a ten minute walk away from the coastline, tucked under the Eastern hills on the outskirts of the main township. He'd lived there all his life and he loved it. It was a perfect distance from everywhere.

As the sun dragged its body beneath the hills, the twinkling lights of the township beginning to flicker. George squeezed his eyes till they were almost shut, letting the colours swim in his vision.

A sudden wave of tiredness washed over him, goose bumps crawling across his skin from the cool night air. Dragging his heavy gaze from the town below, he turned back inside. George shut the door behind him and collapsed onto his bed, finally allowing drowsiness to consume his exhausted mind.

--

He was floating in an ocean, deep under the surface. His body was light, mind sighing in tranquility. He closed his eyes, feeling the tide gently sway his limbs from side to side. He was content.

All of a sudden, the bland temperature of the water dropped, scattering goose bumps across his skin. He shivered, frowning, eyes still closed.

"George." He heard it as a whisper, as if carried to him by the wind. Except, he realised, there was no wind underwater.

Forcing his eyes open, George saw a girl, around his age, floating less than a metre away from him.

Her dark brown hair drifted around her head, as if it was trying to swim away from her scalp. Freckles dotted across her nose and cheekbones, lightly dusted across her forehead.

Her eyes were wide with apprehension, big pools of warm brown framed in thick black lashes. Her skin looked pale and fragile, paper- like in the water.

George realised his mouth was hanging open, and he quickly closed it. She gave him a small smile, tugging down on the hem of her pajama shirt. She was very pretty. But he didn't recognize her at all.

"Who are you?" He tried to say, but the water captured his words and drowned them in bubbles. She smiled again, and opened her mouth to reply when a sound cut her off. A roar shuddered through the water like something hitting metal.

Panic coursed through his veins. He looked at her. Terror captured her face, as she stared down at the depths below their dangling feet, frozen.

Seeing her fear sent his heart into a frenzy, beating with suspense at the thought of the creature that made it. 

And then, he saw them.

 Two amber eyes staring up at him from the pitch black below. His blood turned to ice.

"I'm going to get you, George." A voice like crunching gravel trembled the water around him. Fear rose in his chest, clawing at his throat.

Something clasped his hand. The urgent eyes of the girl met his. Her skin was smooth against his own. She began to swim up towards the surface, dragging him with her. Taking another look at the glowing orbs beneath him, he followed her.

All of a sudden, something grabbed his entire right leg, pulling him downwards. His hand was yanked from the girl's grip. Looking down, he saw a green, scaly, claw wrapped around his leg. It effortlessly pulled him down into the depths below, despite his kicking and writing in efforts to swim away.

Above him, he could see the girl swimming towards him, but she was making no gain. The light of the surface was beginning to fade. The last thing he heard before he was plunged into darkness was her scream.

--

For the eighth night in a row, George launched up in his bed, gasping for breath.  His sheets tangled around his ankles, as he frantically searched his surroundings. He was in his bedroom, again. Safe.

But it was different. The dream had been different. The girl. He'd never seen her before. George breathed in deeply, trying to settle his racing heart.

 Her fearful brown eyes were imprinted in his mind. 

He rubbed a shaking hand across his face. She wasn't real. The whole thing was a dream- everything that was happening to him was just a creation of his imagination. None of it was real.

George felt for a moment like he was losing his mind. He wondered if this was what it was like, feeling as though he no control over himself or his mind.

A week ago, everything had been normal. No nightmares, no weird superpowers, no throwing up at swim training because he could taste toilet in the pool water. George leaned forward and tugged at his hair, scrunching his eyes shut.

Her terrified expression wouldn't get out of his head.