Unwritten

Unwritten: Lake Attacukus

It was dark. The bright stars and moon had hidden behind the curtain of boiling clouds and cold rainfall that draped itself across the land. The raindrops were fat and full; they drenched every square inch of dry land and the unlucky few to get caught outdoors in such a storm were chilled to the bone in seconds. The summer shower seeped into the cracks of buildings, dropping on the heads of the unsuspecting victims who thought themselves safe from the cold precipitation. It wormed underneath the layers of those brave enough to face the downpour and teased goosebumps to the surface. The rain was miserable and it, in turn, made everyone else miserable.

Their ears longed for the familiar murmur of a calm sea, the gentle lapping of waves as they came to rest at the smooth beach before heading back out to sea for another adventure. But the ocean waves frothed and crashed into the white sand of the beach somewhere in the distance, and they stared at the heigth the violent, wind-tossed water had risen to.

But deep in the forest, among the drenched undergrowth, tucked in a concealed hole in the ground with stone walls corralling the broken debris, a girl lay where she had fallen. She did not remember where she was or how she got there. Her brain was muddled, hazy memories swirling just out of her reach and she felt sluggish.

Her back prickled uncomfortably. A branch was wedged underneath her and it rather hurt, it's splintery hug really starting to irritate her. But before she moved away, a sound caused her heart to cease beating for nearly half a second. Her eyes widened theatrically and she unconsciously stilled her breath.

It was then that she realized exactly how dark her surroundings were.

Lake could hear the creaking of old, rotten wood under the intense pressure of vines many years old and many centimeters wide. But she could not see them strain against the weight they were forced to bear. She could detect the faint scraping sound as twig ends and little creatures brushed up against the crumbling and cracking plaster coating the stone walls. But she could not watch as they swayed forcibly in the wind or nosed around the deep loam in search of a scrap of food overlooked. It was that dark.

Her wide eyes swiveled around, twitching and processing the shadows darting in and out her peripheral vision as they danced in the inky backdrop, like a machine collecting data. Though, not nearly as calm. Her movements were small and necessary, but quick and nervous.

The green moss hanging harmlessly from the support beams squelched and oozed water from the heavy rain and the excess dripped as thick as blood down the walls, a ominous dark color from the lack of light. It glistened sickeningly, catching Lake's eyes and she could feel her heart beat escalate.

As if a trigger had been set off, the blood trailing lazily from the moss thickened, the scarlet liquid pulsing down the wall and running like a marathon racer. The soaked moss gleamed in the blinding rain that failed to wash away blood stains. If anything, it only served to let the blood run thicker, thicker, and thicker. Thicker until it pooled and even thicker until it trickled away and thicker still until it reached for Lake's pale, shaking limbs with its warm, spidery fingers, aiming to paint the clear canvas of her skin with its streaks of deadly red.

She kicked away desperately, splinters lodging in her palms and the frantic rustle of the debris thrown aside and crunching under her weight echoing loudly off the walls. Her heavy breathing was obvious and her heart thumped loudly in her chest. Lake's eyes, round and pupils almost consuming the irises, were trained solely on the blood approaching her. She was so focused on the enemy that she nearly missed her small pocket notebook that had escaped her grasp when she fell down the hole. She did not, however, miss the smooth river of calm that shot up her spine and into her heart, relaxing it's frantic beating for a second before her hand jerked away in shock. Lake's panic returned tenfold and in her haste, she scooped up the notebook and cradled it to her chest like a young child would a teddy bear.