It'd been the storm and her dog, Nori, that had driven Thalia Quinn out into the unnaturally chill summer night. The storm had kicked up shrieking and intense all at once, to the point that Thalia was nervous the wind would rip her little cottage from the foundations of the walls near shuddering with each howling gale. It was the blinding flash of light that seemed to split the very sky, cutting through the thick rain and the sound of something not just crashing but colliding into the lake behind her home that had drawn Thalia hesitantly to the door.
Some part of Thalia, the part with her better senses, had nearly been able to convince herself to just go back to unpacking her moving boxes. Put on something stupid and brainless to distract herself from the storm and silence of her small cottage. And she would, had Nori not chosen that moment to run to the door frantically scratching and pawing until Thalia had relented, clipping the leash to the dog and stepping out into the squall that screamed through the night about them. That pit of foreboding had only grown when Nori had immediately begun pulling Thalia to the lake behind the cottage.
The rain was heavy and thick and blinding, spitting rainwater into both dog and human eyes, but the tenacious blocky-headed mutt didn't seem to care as she half-dragged Thalia off the back porch steps and down the short path that was once dirt now turned to mud beneath the downpour that led to the lake. The mud was thick, squelching and sucking at Thalia's feet, deep enough that it was running into her worn black sneakers; and she wrinkled her nose with a wince at the sensation of the mud as it worked between her toes, regretting her choice to not take the time to put on socks.
The light of her cellphone's flashlight offered a measly defense against the dark and rain. Thalia still found herself having to squint to see past the now illuminated sheets of rain that fell upon the world. Rain struck the surface of the lake so hard, a thin mist had begun to rise up and over the surface and shores, only further hampering Thalia's ill-advised investigation into the crashing noise from the lake. A few times Nori pulls hard enough to nearly topple the woman, but she finds her footing each time as they approach the shore of the lake directly behind her small cottage; freezing as her flashlight fell over a pooling of crimson in the sand a few feet in front of her.
Even in death, he was beautiful. He reminded Thalia of some twisted rendition of the fallen angel painting. Submerged from the waist down in the wind disturbed water of the lake. His upper half was sprawled on the muddied shores, his body wept crimson about him, staining and mixing with the mud. There was an unnatural stillness to his body that made Thalia hesitate, just steps away from his unmoving form. Above, a fork of lightning split the skies and illuminated what looked like the hilt of a sword sunk deep in his back, which bore other deep slash wounds and hanging strips of flesh.
His skin was the color of a fish's belly, pallid and unnatural. She couldn't see his face, and Thalia wasn't sure it was a mercy that it was hidden in the mud. Tatters remained of what had once been a shirt were ripped and too muddied to tell what color it had once been. How had he gotten here? Thalia couldn't help but glance at some of the homes across the lake, their lights obscured by the light fog the cold rain had blossomed against the summer-warmed lake. Could someone have dumped the body in the lake, somehow drifting to her backyard?
Unease begins to prickle Thalia's neck as she glances about the pressing gloom and mist. There were no sounds but the storm, no indications of life beside her and the dog, but Thalia still couldn't help the thought that if someone did dump the body on the lake they could still be out there. Her red cotton hoodie, the thin silken tank top beneath and pajama shorts were slicked to her body with the heavy rain, water running in rivulets through her hair and down her face, dripping into her large hazel eyes. She was truly the definition of waterlogged and anxious.
Thalia had never seen a dead body before in her near thirty years of living, not like this. Aside from the few relatives and friends that'd passed, but he was different. There had been something sanitized about seeing someone cleaned and prepared in a coffin, expectant. Against the leash Nori had gone still, pressed against Thalia's bare legs, her lips raised in a silent growl, the dog's shivering jolting the voluptuous brunette back to the reality of her situation. She needed to call the police.
It's a futile effort trying to wipe the phone against her rain-drenched body, but she still tries. A few fumbled tries and the phone unlocks, a sharp breath of relief slipping past Thalia's lips, though the feeling doesn't last. Whether it's the storm or the service itself, the phone's service was unavailable, roaming and useless. The atmosphere was heavy, almost pressing on Thalia, constricting in her chest and making her head throb.
The sight of the blood pooling and thinning with the rain water and mud turned Thalia's stomach queasy. She'd go back to the house. Hell she'd drive to the police station if she had to. Thalia just wanted to be away from the grotesque scene. Nori, who'd been still against her legs gave a sharp jerk forward, and Thalia's phone slipped from her damp grip to the mud, bouncing once with a skid until it was resting against the man's stiff hands.
For an entire minute, Thalia truthfully thought of just abandoning the phone. She lived paycheck to paycheck as it was, but she was willing to eat ramen noodles for a month if she had to. But the phone's flashlight, her only semi-reliable source of light, gleamed tauntingly at her through the mud, reminding Thalia just how much she did not relish the thought of walking back alone in the dark, the threat of some shadowy murder lurking in the dark on her own that steel her nerves. Hyperventilating, she makes herself take a step after a moment and then another. She couldn't see his face, pressed into the mud some small mercy, as she crouched beside his death-stilled form. In her own ears, Thalia's breaths are short and sharp with panic as she tries to keep her gaze on the phone, and nothing else.
She tried not to look at the blood that Thalia didn't care to know if she was crouched in, the wounds that looked so much more horrific up close, or the oddity of the sword that stuck from his back. That heaviness only grew as she tentatively stretched her hand out and Thalia would swear the air around her fingertips shuddered and crackled. As if in response, the throbbing of her head had grown to a full roaring of blood rushing in her ears. Her legs going liquid beneath her vision pitched and Thalia along with it as she fell sprawling from her crouched position into the mud.
The feeling of stiff fingers against hers made Thalia gag, nearly vomiting. Every thought, every instinct screamed at the curvy brunette to get to her feet, but her vision still pitched. Her head felt hot, flushed and Thalia's breathing was coming in such sharp gasps, she hadn't realized the noises beneath the storm had been hers. A shock of something ran down Thalia's spine all heat and electricity that raised goosebumps on her skin as she tried to breathe through the sharp spikes of pain hammering about her temples.
Her vision swam with white, her heart beating like a rabbit's against her chest, and it was all Thalia could do to just breathe. Beneath the pain, she had the most gossamer sensation of a... tugging on her mind. It was weak, but persistent until it grew into something sharper and clawed, desperate and determined, sinking and pulling. She was not aware of dropping Nori's leash, or the dog shoving her nose with concern into Thalia's neck as she collapsed to the mud, a groan of pain spilling from deep in her throat.
She was not aware of those dead fingers, flexing ever so slightly against Thalia's fingers. She's not aware when that hand suddenly clamps onto hers, holding her in place. She was not aware of those groans spilling into primal shrieks of pain beneath the earth-shaking claps of thunder. What Thalia was aware of was the bone-deep cold and searing heat all at once; culminating, in a deafening rushing of blood in her ears, her vision whited out entirely. All she can feel are those invisible, devastating claws sinking into her very essence.
It was her instinct to fight against it, thrashing unseeingly in the mud as the once dead man's calloused hand gripped onto hers. But beneath the pain she could again still almost feel that sense of frantic fear, determination and vulnerability, some wordless plea in her bones. In that blinding, tearing pain Thalia focuses on those feelings, that sense of anything other than the tearing and blinding pain finding a small sanctuary.
The pain pushed Thalia's limits, shattering past them, and each time she thought that whiteness and pain would consume her, it was the feeling of encouragement that kept her clinging to the last vestiges of steel she had left within herself. When the pain began to fade Thalia wasn't quite sure that she wasn't dead. The roaring in her ears subsided, the ice and flame that gnawed at her innards and licked across her skin had subsided, soothed by the strong arms that held her half-cradled against a broad chest, their skin that was warm against hers despite the chilled rain. That pain could have been minutes or hours. People that were run through with medieval swords don't typically come back to life and Thalia could only conclude who ever had dumped the body had come back and found her.
The scent of mud and salted coppery blood invaded Thalia's nose, her stomach rolling violently as her eyes fluttered open. She gags and quickly those arms help her to a kneeling position as her stomach rolls and heaves. The only thing she can manage to get out are a few retching heaves of stomach acid, burning and bitter. That unbearable, blinding pain had subsided, but her head pounded with a headache. Her vision blurred and swimming was slowly returning, enough that Thalia could hazily see. Nori's leash was gone, but she could hear the dog whining a few feet away.
If Thalia could make it to the house, Nori would chase after her; the only issue was could she even stand, moreover run? The hands on her shoulders are large and calloused, but gentle. She tries to shift up to her feet, to get out of the bloodied mud but her legs protest the movement, trembling as she makes it back to a kneeling position. Those hands remain, anchoring and steady and Thalia realizes they make no attempt to stop her. Only support her as she wobbles on her knees, a hoarse voice cuts over the rain.
"Are you able to stand?" Mud clings to just about every surface of her body as Thalia is helped to her feet. Like her, the figure is doused with mud, the tattered remains of a shirt clinging to his body, the scent of blood clinging heavily to him. The body that had absolutely been dead before was now standing, breathing, before Thalia as he tried to help keep her steady on her feet. Thalia's mind churned to find answers that would not come, that rush of blood returning to her ears as she watched his mouth move though no words reached Thalia.
The world spins, and Thalia welcomes the dizzying blackness that rushes forth pulsating over her vision as she feels her legs begin to give out once more from beneath her, the no longer dead man's arms encircling her curvy waist holding her upright the last thing she feels as Thalia gave into that blackness entirely.