Cold slapped Cassidy awake. Her eyelids fluttered open, and the world phased slowly back into view: She was not in The Twister anymore-the soft warmth, the dim lights, all gone and replaced with harsh winter and black night. The swirling snow hit her skin as she struggled to orientate in the surroundings.
She lay on frozen ground in what felt and looked to her like a thick forest, the tall treetops stretching down their long, ominous shadows to her in the pale moonlight. Her breathing was in ragged puffs as the fear which had taken hold of her at the bar clutched hard at her heart.
But she wasn't alone.
The figure leaned over her cast in shadow. The man who had pulled her from The Twister. Gleaming in the reflected glow of the moon, there was a light in his eye. As he leaned closer, outlines of the thin face could be seen, fascinated and cruel.
Cassidy sprang to her feet, embracing the trunk of a tree behind her. "What is it that you want with me?" she shouted, lowering her voice, trying not to sound quite as frightened.
The man said nothing for a moment, his eyes fastened on her with such intensity that ripples tautened her skin. Then he spoke, finally, in a voice low, velvety, a whispered promise. "You have been chosen, Cassidy. Chosen to fulfill a prophecy set in place since time began. You, and only you, hold within yourself the power to bring out what lies beneath Crestwood."
Cassidy's heart was pounding inside her chest. "What are you talking about? What prophecy?
A thin smile curled his lips. "The blood of the old ones runs in your veins, Cassidy. You are the key to unlock the power which has been locked away for generations. And that is the only thing that can save-or destroy-this world."
Cassidy shook her head; it was just too incredible to believe. "This is insane. I'm normal. I am not capable of that."
He stepped closer, the pitch of his voice so low that it overpowered her. "You don't know what you are, Cassidy, but you will know in due time. The storm is just the beginning. Shortly, the darkness shall rise, and you will be forced to take a side.
Fear and confusion swam in one endless wave within Cassidy's head. Myths and legends of Crestwood were all those were: those old stories told and whispered about. Now, in the face of this man and impossible claims, she knew nothing at all.
She whispered, "Yet why me?" and continued with, "Why now?"
He leaned a bit into one side, his expression indicating contemplation of her question. "Because time is running out. The barrier that has held at bay the darkness for so long is weakening. The storm was a warning, a signal that the balance is toppling. And you, Cassidy, are to restore that balance."
A sudden movement, before Cassidy could utter a word, jerked her head toward it; from the corner of her eye, she saw a shadowy figure darting between trees with a speed unnatural for any living thing. She felt a lump in her throat as she realized they were being watched.
He wheeled suddenly, his head jerking to the dark. His face clouded, and for the first time, Cassidy saw a flicker of something akin to fear reflected in his eyes. "We're not alone," he muttered more to himself than to her.
He suddenly pounced on Cassidy, tugging at her arm and yanking her none-too-gentlely into the trees. "We have to go. Now."
Cassidy could hardly clear her head, and they were off, racing across the forest with the cuts of wind across her face and her not quite pacing. The maelstrom of confusion and panic whirled in her mind: Who was this man? What did he want from her? And who-or what-was behind them?
Leaves crunched, and the rustling made a sound that in just one second was louder, closer. Whoever was after them, they were closing in fast.
"Where're we going?" Cassidy wheezed, the coldness of the air a burn to her lungs.
"There's a safe place up ahead," he yelled back in an urgent, taut leading voice. "But we gotta make it before they do.
Her heart was racing as they kept running, running through the forest-whatever lay around them was just one blur of black and white. She could feel their pursuers close in; the air was heavy with tension and fear.
The next thing he did was to jerk hard left; Cassidy went with him, bursting through a thicket of bushes into a small, snow-filled clearing, and in it was an old, crumbling stone structure half-buried.
"In here," he told her, and with a little push sent her toward the opening. Cassidy had stumbled forward, her breath catching in her throat as she stepped into the dark, musty interior that was obviously some sort of an ancient crypt. The stone walls were cold and damp, and the air was heavy with the scent of earth and decaying matter.
He followed her inside and slung the heavy oak door shut behind them, barred quick with a thick beam of wood. Finally turning to her, his eyes scanned the room for any sign of danger.
Cassidy froze in the middle of the crypt, staring around blankly at everything. "What is this place?"
"This is where it all began," he whispered-even-his words carrying on the cold stone walls. "This is where it shall end."
Cassidy shivered, not because of the cold, but from the weight his words held. "What do you mean?
His eyes, with a sense of determination in their depths and something else that didn't quite hold its place-something like sadness?-locked onto hers. "This crypt was built to contain the darkness that shall engulf us all. Sealed by the ancients, they really did believe it could keep the world from its power. Little did they know, it was but temporary. Growing with feasts of fear and hatred for the world, it readies itself to break free.
Cassidy swallowed hard as the full weight of his words landed. "And you think I can stop it?"
He nodded, his face grave. "You don't only have the power to stop it, Cassidy. You are the only one who can."
A loud clang came from the crypt: something-or somebody-had slammed against the barred door. Cassidy jumped. Every hair of her head stood on end. The man drew a knife from his belt and approached the door, peering out narrowly.
"We haven't much time," he said serenely, though a bedlam had broken loose outside the window. "A choice, Cassidy-you can run, try to outrun the destiny foisted on you. Or you can stand and fight, lean into the power buried deep inside you all of your life. The decision is yours.
Cassidy stared at him, her mind whirling in terror and doubt, yet the little kernel of determination began to grow inside her. She didn't know what this power was, or whether she had it at all, but one thing was clear: unless she acted, darkness would triumph over all that she held dear.
Cassidy stood forward, fists in, and took a deep breath. "I am not running."
The man's eyes gleamed with approval. "Then arm yourself, Cassidy. For this is but a beginning."
The louder crash shook the crypt, the door beginning to splinter around the force of the blows. Whatever was on the other side was relentless, intent on getting inside.
Cassidy's heart did an adrenaline somersault as she wheeled toward the door. The man strode to stand beside her; the glint of his knife was dull in the poor light.
The door gave way with a splinter, and Cassidy took one more deep breath as fear melted away. She had absolutely no idea what awaited them on the other side, but one thing was for sure-she would never face it alone.
To be continued.