Damaged Waters: Shadows By Night

Chapter OneThe winds raged against the stony cliffside. The sunset collided with the moon coming out from behind the clouds over yonder. The waves pierced the cliffside with such intensity it almost forgot it was hungry for new blood. A man with dark chocolate hair twisted into a bun walked slouched over and crossed the wild grass to glance at the scene from the point of the cliff. His overgrown beard masked his narrow face. He stood tall, wearing flannel and rugged jeans, as he stared as the sunset descended into the ocean. He exhaled abruptly and turned his attention to the village towards the west. He smiled slightly and started to march toward it. The clouds ruffled the sky for more dominance. He pulled out his camera and snapped pictures of the scenery. As he walked, the path to the town became a rubble walkway. Music and laughter lifted the darkened night with celebration. Children and young adults ran around in excitement. The man smiled softly, greeting the village people with handshakes and nodded. Though he was a stranger, he took part in the festival. He danced a traditional dance of the Scots. He leaped every once in a while, living on the edge in the festival of local traditions. A woman with gray eyes, violet and black hair danced with him. She turned and moved forward to kiss him on the cheek. He smiled again as she whispered into his ear. She nipped a little on his ear, and he stopped dancing. The woman looked at him closely staring into his emerald eyes. She pulled him closer to kiss him. The crowd cheered and everyone went back to what they were doing. Many of the adults continued to drink while others danced the Scottish dance in unison. He kissed her back, and she tried to pull him from the dance floor. Her swollen, purple lips were begging for more, and she studied him with her Egyptian cat-like eyes. “How long will you be here, stranger?” she asked while placing her jean jacket around herself. He chuckled, “my name is Cullen Cummings.” His heavy American accent bore through. She twirled her fingers around her short hair. “A Cummings you say? I haven’t heard one of you in these parts. How long you staying?” A barmaid walked by with two trays of beer. They each took one glass and salute to one another then drink. She wiped the foam from her round lips, “I’m Molly. Nice to meet you.” Cullen shook his head and put his glass down on a nearby table. He reached into his pocket for a cigarette. Molly giggled and took out a lighter with the word ‘Scream’ on it. Cullen arched an eyebrow. She offered a light to him and he leaned down taking it. He blows out a long drag and glanced at her for a moment. “Nice to meet you, Molly. How come there aren’t many Cummings’ in this area?” He regarded her curiously for a moment. “Not sure. Might be a curse. All I know is there used to be many of your family decades ago but over time… they just left,” she explained skeptically as she grabbed his cigarette. She grinned brightly and took a nearby drink from another barmaid, “are you on holiday?” Cullen smirked briefly and glanced up at the full moon over the hillside. “Yes. I came here to find out more about this deity that’s supposed to be marked in this cave. I’m a historian back in America. I live in Maine. I came here looking for something.” She shook out her jacket with one hand and drank the beer with her other. “That sounds kind of boring. We have loads of caves and artifacts around here. What made you want to come to Scotland for just that?” Cullen’s eyes narrowed at her. “I came across something about my family that was interesting. I had to find out about this legend or rather myth. I’m working on this book about folklore. I am a graduate student writing a thesis on this particular subject.” He leaned against a nearby table slowly. The light of the moon flickered down the hillside. Cullen held his head with his left hand while drinking another beer with his other. He shook his head once more to fix his doubling vision. Cullen sat down, and Molly drank a few more beers. “You Americans need to learn to drink. You only had a few beers from this great land. It’s too funny,” she giggled placing an empty glass on a nearby tray. Cullen rolled his eyes. “And, you drink like a fish.” She stood on the table and stomped her feet. Molly yelled at the crowd. The music stopped and many of the villagers turned to Molly’s direction. “Oi! This American said we drink like bloody sailors!” She put her hands on her thighs. The crowd laughed and continued to drink. A man in the corner with a crooked nose lifted his drink to her. “Maybe, lass, you should show him how it’s done.” Molly raised her glass to him and stomped her feet again. “Here, here!” she said proudly. Cullen rolled his eyes and drank another drink. The crowd continued to dance. Other people sung in joy. Some children put flower tiaras on each other’s head. Many elderly couples sat and talked to other children of old tales. Cullen smiled lazily and got up from the table. Molly walked over to him and kissed his lips sweetly. She put her hands down his back. “Don’t you know, Cullen, it’s time to have fun. Come along, let’s go,” she pulled his hand. Cullen walked slowly behind her. He watched the gigantic moon overlaying the landscape. He caught his breath feeling the dew across the grassy plains. He chuckled as Molly attempted to continue to hold his hand like a five-year-old child. “Molly, what’s your interest in me?” he asked her suspiciously. She immediately stopped and turned around to face him, “I like you. I want to show you something that might be important to you. I like Americans. You’re all good fun.” Cullen leaned down and kissed her. “Are you going to show me the deity that roams the night?” She placed a finger on his lips, “away with you.” Molly turned around and walked faster. Cullen tried to catch up to her. The moon began to come closer as they reached over the hill. Cullen looked over to the village and no longer heard music and laughter. The night began to sound more ominous with the darkness shadowing the light everywhere. The stony path turned to thick grass, and thorny vines landscape the hedges over the hills. Cullen frowned as Molly’s dark clothes matched her surroundings. She turned, stopped and pointed to a clearing with a large rock over it. Molly broke out into a run. Cullen raced after her. He breathed hard seeing the little pixie woman ahead of him leaning against the rock. “You’re quite slow for an American. Don’t you know how to run? Come. Come, Cullen. You need to stay in Scotland for some exercise,” she said mockingly. Cullen didn’t say anything and just stared at the strange symbols on the rock. He took out his phone and snapped pictures of the various symbols. After a few minutes, he reached down to one side and found a small hole. Cullen blinked his eyes to see a crest symbol. He took a picture of it and glanced up at Molly. She blew the icy, cold air on her nails. “Aren’t you happy now? This is where the legend or myth is. Behind this rock, no one knows but it’s got a story that’s older than these hills,” she said brazenly. He continued to touch the sides and snapped pictures. His finger suddenly scraped against a sharp edge of the stone. “Oww!” Cullen moved his finger back. He put his finger on the tip. A loud crack sounds. Molly and Cullen stepped back gradually. The drop of blood moved upward and around the symbols. Sounds of twisting and turning motions fill the air. Molly and Cullen stared at one another. “What did you do?” she asked in fear. He continued to stare at the movement of the blood tracing every outline of the stone, “I don’t know.” The stone moved slowly causing a loud ruckus. The sounds stretched over the hill. A gust of wind came through the opening. They were suddenly looking into a dark cave. Cullen pulled out a mini flashlight from his pocket moving forward. Molly looked up at him frightened. He glanced at her, shaking a little, “I’m going inside.” Molly looked up at him shaking her head no, “I’m not going in, Cullen. You can, but I’m getting out of here.” Without another word, she turned and ran opposite direction. Cullen stood there watching her leave. Under the fog of night, Molly smirked a little while leaving him. She ran back to the village in full speed. She became a blur to him under the darkness. Cullen walked toward the cave. He pulled out his phone for more light. He looked around one last time before walking into the cave. Dark murmurs whispered across the cave. He glanced around and saw scratch marks across the walls. He took pictures unsure of what he was looking at. “What’s going on here?” he asked himself, hesitantly noticing a massive hole in the center of the cave. An endless fog moved through the cave, and Cullen touched a side of the wall. He noticed deep wedged claw marks in s***h motion around the walls. His eyes grew large. Cullen suddenly saw a shadow formed at one end of the cave. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the shadow with alluring white eyes blink at him. He moved back to the entrance slowly. Cullen inches back. With each breath, the fog came in heavier into the cave as a smoky mist. The eyes faded into the mist and a loud shrill sound echoed across the cave. Cullen stumbled over a small woman-shaped stone. He picked it up and ran with it. The loud shrill sound continued to echo outward. He covered his ears and exits the cave. He fell into the marshy grass. Cullen screamed out and ran toward the village. As he ran, the cave door closed slowly but the fog roams outward. The eyes narrow at Cullen holding the stone-shaped woman. The mist reverberated and pulsed through the hill. After a long while, Cullen came to the stony path. He hides the stone woman statue in his pocket. He picked up speed seeing the villagers cleaning up. Cullen fell into the grass. He breathes hard against the moist ground. Several villagers come to check on him. Some men pick him up and seat him on a chair. “Are you okay? You look like you seen a ghost?” an elderly man asked Cullen. A woman passed Cullen a glass of water. “You need to catch your breath. We don’t need a Scottish-American to die on these hills,” she said with uneasiness. Cullen drank the glass of water gently and exhaled slowly, “I saw something in a cave. I have never seen white eyes glare at me. There was a cave up over the hill.” The elderly man looked at him crossly. “Lad, there is no cave over the hill. It’s all flat up there. There’s nothing but farmland for miles. Are you sure you didn’t drink too much this evening?” The elderly man pat Cullen’s head. Cullen paled upon what the man said. “There was a woman named Molly who showed it to me. I swear I saw it,” he explained traumatized. The woman held his hand for reassurance, “there’s no Molly in the village. The lass you mentioned doesn’t even live here.” Cullen held his head in fear. “I think I need to lie down.” Some of the villagers nodded in agreement and help him up. The elderly man and the woman shook their heads. They follow after him. Cullen closed his eyes as they help him. His heart raced thinking over what they said. He couldn’t piece what could possibly have happened to him. In this moment, Cullen chalked it all up to drinking too much and hallucinating bizarre random things. The wind blew softly through the drapes. The bustle and movement in the town came alive with heavy accents and slander in the early hours. Cullen moaned in his sleep waking to such noise. He slowly woke in his cotton twin-sized bed with old knitted blankets surrounding him. He moved his body to fully wake up. Cullen rubbed his eyes and looked around the bland hospital room style. He reached across the nightstand for a glass of water then sat straight up in his bed and blinks his eyes. His thoughts move back to the night before. The fog encased the cave and the cracked becoming deeper. Cullen has a flashback to the white eyes with jade in the center staring at him. He shivers and got out of the bed, quickly moving around the room to pack his items in his small suitcase.