Humid. Everything in Lumbridge had been humid and hot for too long. The sticky air was practically unbearable and every day farmers prayed that the summer rains would finally fall. That night, they did.
In the latest hours of the night, as the people slept, lightning cracked across a black sky. It tore open the clouds and they spilled their torrential storm on the farmlands, washing away the stagnant air but leaving the heat behind. The river rose and threatened to flood over the banks. The roads became muck and mud and the footprints of the lone figure traipsing through it were washed away as quickly as they were made.
Cloaked and hooded, the figure had appeared suddenly from nowhere, or so it seemed, and hurried along toward the cemetery. They paused briefly at the edge of the gates and peered back over their shoulder. Then, as quickly as before, they ran through the rain-drenched cemetery grounds and out into the swamp.
Hours later, awakened from a fitful sleep, Kylara Lansing shot up from her bed and turned wide eyes first toward the bassinet in the corner, and then to window across the room. A shudder ran through her as she turned, swinging her legs out of the bed and setting her feet on the cold floor. She moved to the window and threw it open, breathing in deep the warm, rain-scented air.
As she stood, looking out into the star-void night sky, something crept into her mind. First it was only a tremor - a gentle wavering sensation in the back of her head. Then it grew stronger and unnervingly violent and Kylara fell to her knees. As she gripped the window sill to pull herself back up, the sensation became a fire that burned straight through her body and left an aching, heavy pit in her stomach. The baby's screams brought her head around and she crawled across the floor to the bassinet.
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12-Jul-2016 19:32:43
