Page 5 of Drenched

I buried those memories deep, sealed them away with everything else.

But then the dreams started.

Not about him, those I could handle. These were different. Icy water. Endless black. Skeleton hands dragging me down. No faces, just pulling, wrists, ankles, deeper into nothing. Always that pale light far off. Pulsing. Watching. Waiting. Like something knew what I'd done. What we'd done.

I'd wake up gasping, choking on air, skin cold and chest tight, but the fear didn’t leave. It clung to me like a second skin, always there. The scars ached on those nights. I never knew why. I could never understand.

The memories blurred and bled into the present. I lay back on the bed, clutching my mother’s locket in my hand and then without realizing it, I started humming. The melody rose softly, a fragment of a lullaby my mother used to sing when I was little.

“Hush now, the ocean sighs,

Deep below where silence lies.

Waves will cradle, shadows keep,

In the abyss, all things sleep.”

Her voice used to be warm and low, a sound that made the world feel smaller, safer. I held on to that memory, letting the tune fill the hollow spaces in my chest.

“Stars may fade, the tide may rise,

But you are safe where love abides.

Drenched in peace, let darkness creep,

In the abyss, all things sleep.”

The song wavered as my voice cracked, but I kept going, the words wrapping around me like armor. I closed my eyes, letting the melody carry me, pushing back the painful memories clawing at the edges of my mind.

I didn’t think I’d fall asleep, but I did. And as I drifted, the song followed, its gentle rhythm like waves lapping softly againsta shore.

Chapter Two

I woke up with a sore back, all thanks to the stone-hard mattress I slept on. I knew this wasn’t some five-star hotel, but they could’ve at least tried with the beds. Yesterday’s travel had drained me, and even after a night’s sleep, I didn’t feel fully refreshed.

As I swung my legs off the bed, Jonathan’s stare flashed in my mind. That man was shameless. I needed to keep my distance.

My wool socks slid on the smooth wood floor, betraying me. My ankle twisted, and I stumbled forward, fingers scraping the doorframe to catch myself. That’s when I saw them.

The prints stretched across the floor, too wide for human feet, with curves like claws or fins. Each one glistened with an oily sheen in the weak light.

“Get it together.” My voice trembled. I forced three deep breaths, just like my therapist taught me. “You’re here for science, not ghost stories.”

I grabbed a cloth from under the sink and wiped my glasses, my fingers shaking slightly. They were just sea spray, I told myself. Just salt and water, nothing more.

I yanked on my armor for the day, my favorite worn t-shirt, a chunky sweater that still smelled faintly of home, and jeans thathad seen better days. Wrestling my curls into something that passed for order. I pulled on a woolen cap feeling the thick knit hug my head, the scratchy warmth a small comfort. My glasses slid down my nose, same as always. I pushed them up and forced a smile into the mirror. It didn’t quite reach my eyes. But it would have to do.

I wandered through the inn, floorboards creaking under my feet. The bitter smell of coffee pulled me towards a door. I pushed it open, and the kitchen greeted me with warmth. Sebastian was already at the counter, slicing some vegetables. The sound of his knife tapping against the board filled the quiet. He looked up as I walked in.

“Morning,” I croaked.

He paused, the knife hovering just above the board. “Morning.” His tone was casual, but his gaze felt sharp, like he noticed more than he let on.

“You want coffee?” he asked.

“God, yes,” I muttered, wrapping my arms around myself against the chill. “Thanks.”

He handed me a mug, the ceramic warm against my frozen fingers. The first sip seared its way down my throat, spreading heat through my chest. It didn’t fix everything, but it woke me up, chased away the worst of the chill.

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