Streaks of Silver 《On-hold/Slow Updates》

Chapter 13: Demented

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Maia POV

Ever heard of those people who believe that in life there are choices that define us; I'm slightly embarrassed to admit I am one of those sappy people. I remember my first ever crush was on a swoon-worthy guy called Bruce Russel. He wasn't everyone's type, but boy he was cute. Ginger bushy hair framed his perfectly sculpted face. His face was splattered with adorable ginger freckles and whenever he concentrated his nose would scrunch up and a dimple would assault his cheek. He also happened to be our 22 year old swimming instructor at primary school. At the time, I was so sure we would get married and have kids. I inwardly cringe at the thought now, the type of cringe where you want to hide under the covers and never come out. I'd promised myself to lock it away in a sacred mind vault, never to be opened again, but it's amazing what your brain unlocks when your catapulted face first into a murky looking lake brimming with freezing cold water. This was no ice bucket challenge, I actually felt like I was bobbing up and down in the artic.

Minutes before, I'd felt a ripple, then a quake violently shake the ground. My chipped nails dug sharply into the tree to keep me balanced. A near impossible task. A wind whipped up a ripe fever, as I was torn away from the safety blanket of this little world. I felt my body being sucked like a measly speck of dust up a vacuum. Becoming weightless in my own mind once more. Till I was plunged into the hellish waters.

My entire body was drenched head to toe. Frozen. The blackish liquid seeped through the thin lace material of my dress. Giving me the type of chills you find in horror movies. However this was no Hollywood fabricated fantasy. This was real life and I had no idea in hell where I was. All I knew was that I needed to fight the surging current, to keep afloat.

I don't know how long I spent, laying on the surface of the water as it thrashed me about. Pushing and pulling me like magnets. The speed at which it did so began to increase. Desperately I tried not to panic at the rising water level. One thing I remember Bruce said when I wasn't staring at his angelic face, was that panicking would only make things worse. I knew I needed help, but I wasn't certain if I was conscious or still stuck in my vision. I didn't realise how long I'd stopped sculling on the top of the water, but a freak current churned me underneath the surface of the water out of nowhere. I gasped for air, like a fish, but I was greeted with a mouthful of water instead. I'm tossed around like I'm made up of feathers, trapped in a nauseating cycle. The current is relentless, thrashing at me. I'm spiralling towards the reeds. As they shoot up, locking in on me: their target. Like a spider they tangle me in their web. I thrash and I claw at them with my fingernails till they bleed. Hot red droplets swirl around like spilled ink on a canvas. Whilst the reeds grip on like vices, dragging me down to the depths. My lungs are spluttering for air. Much like a car without diesel. My heartbeats began to get slower, further apart. Till it's so faint, I'm not even sure my heart's beating at all. My whole body aches with the struggle. My baggy eyes begin to droop. I feel myself grow as heavy as lead, my body sagging at the effort to keep upright. I see tunnels of light closing in before my eyes flutter close. I grow so numb, I don't even feel my body hit the bottom of the lake. As the darkness of the tunnels closes in.

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As I lay there, limp and unmoving, images flash before my eyes. I see a grey shaggy wolf sprinting through the woods. His huge paws kicking up the autumn tinted leaves. A predator in their natural habitat. The image dissolves and in its place I see Cassie covered in blood. Her eyes are lost and vacant like a broken doll. The image fades like an old Polaroid photograph. Replaced by a scrawny looking Tyler. His once defined cheekbones, that made him look like a Greek God, are now sunken and hollow. His brown leather jacket hangs off his tiny frame. I want to reach out. I want to tell him that we're trying to find him. I want him to tell us where he is, so we can rescue him, but I can't. The vision slips through my fingertips like water.

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Then my eyes shoot open like fireworks. Alert and bloodshot. I smell the burning of cinnamon incense. Looking down I see I'm perched on a white massage table like a mummy. My arms positioned across my chest. I'm wrapped in fluffy white blankets. Dressed in a simplistic white nightgown I didn't even remember wearing. Where the hell was I? And how did I get here?

Once again, curiosity overcame me and I gathered my bearings. I was sat in a spacious room, surrounded by wooden panelled walls. A huge gaping window let in floods of welcome light. A gasp escaped my mouth. Automatically my hand flew to my lips, the other at my side. Rocky, mountainous terrain greeted me on the other side of the glass. Sprinkled with a dusting of snow. Reminding me of one time I baked with my mum and we got flour everywhere. I've always been clumsy it's just a part of me now I suppose.

Wind rattled the window, whistling past my room. As I turned around, I noticed symbols burnt into the floor. Splayed in a circle around the massage table. I recognised a few of them. Celeri Sanitatem for rapid healing. Bene esse for well-being. Imperium for power. Renascitur to be reborn. Gentem for revival, but as I traced the writing carved into the floor, they began to get more demented. Tenebris magicae for dark magic. Satanas for Satan. Hostiae sanguinem for blood and sacrifice. Where these drawn for me? I heard the creak of a floorboard, snapping my head to its direction.

"Ah, I see your awake Mai." My jaw hit the floor. It was my brother Nathaniel in the flesh.

"You never call me Mai." I gulped. Struggling to breathe.

"I figured it was time to bring back some old habits." He said with the same lopsided smile that haunted my dreams.

"Stay away from me. You're dead." I said backing into a wooden dresser.

"Oh god I'm dreaming or I'm going crazy. Possibly both. I need to wake up." I said scrunching my hand into a fist to my forehead whilst pulling at my curls.

"No Mai, you're not crazy."

I felt trapped like the walls were closing in. Back when I used to get panic attacks when my parents died.

He leaned forward. Untangling my fingertips from my hair.

"It's really me Mai. I died, but I'm back now." He said, his tone so soft it seemed so real.

"Come with me to the kitchen. I'll explain everything over coffee, just remember to breathe." It was only then I realised I was holding my breath. My hands trembling.

He took my hand, guiding me to a marble island worktop, where I sat on a black leather stool. I hated that I was still vulnerable to panic attacks. I suppose that's how I knew to help Cory. I haven't had one in so long, I thought I was better. I suppose my family is my trigger.

Nathaniel strolled over to me so calmly with a cup of steaming coffee; which he scooted onto the counter in front of me. How is he so calm about this? He's come back from the dead. How is any of this possible? I understood vampirism, but witches coming back to life? Something was very wrong in deed.

I took in the familiar scent of the coffee granules. Ever since Nathaniel passed I'd never been able to make coffee as mouth-watering as this, he was always the best barista.

"Nathaniel I-"

"I go by Nathan now." I sighed in annoyance.

"You hated Nathan." I grumbled.

"Well coming back from the dead, kind of changes your perspective." He coolly replied.

"How? I don't understand, how is it even possible for a witch to come back to life?"

"Mai, I think you're getting your facts mixed up. I'm a vampire now. You're the witch that I brought back to life." I almost choked on my coffee.