Glacious

The wind eased over the surface of liquid, like a whisper from God, felt more than heard.

The water was solid, or was it?

Most life avoided this area—aware on some level—that an unseen something called this dusky, mud bottom, home. That something stirred with ravenous hunger now. What fish that used to call these waters home, had fled or been eviscerated by something A millennium ago.

A doe approached and decided to explore. The wisdom to not venture further ahead did not exist. This deer was especially dense and continued on, even though, she had visited here before. The heaviness of something lingered but the doe was oblivious, with no memory... With each step taken, a profound edge of wickedness grew. She snorted and began to tremble, antsy with dread. A murmur of soft glee, a thunderous CRACK! permeated the frosty air. With blinding speed the something struck, lashing a tendril of what resembled a twig about the creature's throat, yanking hard and—with a vibration of sound—pulled it beneath the shell of ice. The stench of gore, fouled the landscape with deceptive crispness...

Birds took flight, scattering like leaves. A lone coyote howled, joined in by several more. Then, thereafter, silence prevailed again.

* * *

This Sunday, after a day of non-stop church going, Abbey needed some air. All the preaching and finger-pointing had beckoned only drowsiness. She ran from the clapboard building Biting cold didn't bother her too much, especially on this holy day. A leisurely stroll, yes, that would help, she decided! Her parents, devout Quakers, watched her flee with disapproval, muttered about ill manners, and what punishment to deliver later.

A less traveled trail towards the pond invited adventure—or as much as was allowed. Pleasure was hers in the new scent and sights of this different footpath. Her green eyes found rocks to ponder and memorize, leaves of scarlet and melon to tuck into her Bible. Small tracks of rabbits, mice, birds, deer, to follow and sort. Tucked in a pocket were seeds, bits of stale bread, a few acorns for the wildlife condemned to this desolation. Abbey was innocent like the creatures she liked to feed. These four footed friends, never judged her.

Eventually, her own tracks came to the same low-lying shore that the hapless doe had taken earlier. Odd, she thought, only one set of prints matted the crisp white snow. On a bent knee she came to rest. Damp moss, smudged her pants, creating stains she would be admonished for later. A sigh added a taste of bland white to her lips. She would pay dearly for that spot . Her keen eyes read the traces in the snow. Drag marks scarred the muck. Abbey’s eyes followed the path, settling on a broken crater that splintered the ice.

A fretful frown crossed her vernal face... Something had happened here. Something violent. Something brutal.

The same eerie echo that before struck terror in the doe, stirred up through the ice, and enveloped the girl in an uneasy shiver. Only to repeat itself. Up she shot—now terrified. As her eyes darted around searching for the source of her disquietude, she somehow missed the first crackling branch. Then a second, shooting out of the pond, shattering the ice, and enfolded Abbey with a somewhat diffuse hug...towing dragging her, down, down, down into the boggy frost.

A husky syllable slithered into Abbey's brain, WELCOME. Then that awful silence reigned again. Below, in murky shadow, the something was preparing it's new recruit, passing along secrets older than time. Abbey at first fought against the images of horror and happiness being shared. Something murmured , "angels to some, demons to others" . No, no no, she repeated in her mind. The something would not be deterred. It was over as quickly as it had begun.

Cold, so cold... somehow she lived, breathing in the frigid currents. Seeing the shimmery dark, she settled in. This new something—once know as Abbey Growd—nodded as the old something, caressed her mind with a final bit of knowledge.

The latter now crawled out of the gelid mud onto the bank. Its first breaths were raspy and rigid. This was not like riding a bike, inhaling...exhaling. It took more effort than it remembered. Onto rickety knees the creature rocked and ascended to a pair feet that struggled to remember how to be human.

Endless, empty, evil...was all that the something knew. Until now. In this morass of chilly sensations each gasp of oxygen carried a myriad of innumerable consciousnesses.

Remembrance.

Awareness.

Of self.

Of emotion.

Hate, loathing, rage, pain, in a ball of convolutes swirls, came together! Fire took hold, scorching the something's mind. A bellow of triumph cleared through the bare trunks of oak and maple. A word escaped its maw..."BEWARE!".