The cave is cold and dank with a constant echo of dripping water. Abigail can smell the stench of salt and seaweed hanging in the damp air. At one point, she realizes she has fallen asleep in Western Civilization class, so it must be a dream. Behind her, at the mouth of the cave, she can still hear Mr. Hammond lecturing the class. All of her aspirations involve seeing Bill, so Abigail quickly leaves thoughts of school locked down in another part of her mind and focuses on what the cave might reveal.
It is dimly lit either by the fading lights of the classroom or the actual daylight from outside the cave. Neither is important now as she moves forward, careful in her footing. In every direction, all Abigail can see are military crates, patches of thickly overgrown moss, and small depressions filled with clear water that trickle down from lichen-infested walls. She is not entirely sure where to go, but a faint and indecipherable voice off in the distance piques her curiosity.
As Abigail continues to move forward toward the voice, the cave becomes increasingly darker and darker. The passage narrows, and she can barely squeeze through or see her own hand out in front of her face. Jagged porous rock, uneven and protrusive, scuffs the smooth skin of Abigail’s slender arms, but she still pushes through the narrow passage and into the opening of a large cavern filled with stalactites and stalagmites.
At its center is a shallow pool of clear water, and it is there that Abigail can see a dark shadow of a thing hunched over, peering into the water; its own reflection rippling through the surface. The creature mutters continuously to itself. Whatever the frail figure of a man is saying, Abigail cannot discern. However, from the tone of its constant animal-like baaing and mumbling, she gets the distinct impression that something troubles it.
“Hello? Are you okay?”
What? she immediately thinks to herself. What the hell, you crazy bitch. You just can’t go around talking to strange creatures living in dark caves.
Yet she speaks to it again, and this time, Abigail moves even closer to it, although still quite a distance away. “Are you hurt? Do you need help… Bill?”
The figure refuses to acknowledge her presence, seemingly preoccupied with its reflection in the water.
“I can see you there… by the water. Are you okay?”
Okay, Abs, if it kills you and eats your brain, it’s your own dumbass fault, she reminds herself. Just stop it. You are creeping yourself out!
Still, the creature pays no attention to her. She halts within ten feet of the thing as a sudden chill sweeps over her body. Now might be a great idea to start running in the other direction, through the narrow passage, out the mouth of the cave and back to her Western Civ class.
The thing looks subhuman, of skin and bones, with a sparse crop of wiry white hair atop its large bald head that runs down its knotted back. It is too thin, and its bones protrude from under stretched leathery skin—especially around the shoulders, hips, ribs, and spine. The thing, which is nude and resembles a twisted nightmarish hobgoblin of sorts, hunches over and constantly uses its curved bony claw to break its reflection in the water.
It seems peaceful in its solitude, and although its appearance mortifies her, Abigail decides not to retreat after all. Instead, she further investigates the strange thing. Her footsteps are much slower now and carefully placed in the sand, not on or over anything that will suddenly alarm the creature, so as not to cause it to charge toward her with its nightmarish features shaking in surprise.
“I see you there… by the water. Are you okay?” she speaks soothingly with a slight tinge of restiveness. “Do you need help?”
No, Abigail. You do, she tells herself. You need therapy.
Something about the creature feels familiar to her, but she cannot put her finger on it.
“Please don’t make any sudden movements. I just want to get a little closer to see if you’re all right,” saying this more to herself than to the creature. Before Abigail realizes it, she is standing next to the water. “Hello?”
“Hello,” the creature says in a croaky voice, sounding thoroughly parched.
It turns its burning gaze upon her; yellow orbs of searing, irrefutable hatred set deep in their sockets, paralyzing Abigail with fear. She thinks she might have seen something serpentine slither up into its mouth but is not entirely sure. The creature’s fiery pinpoint eyes captivate her too much to notice anything else.