Metamorphosis: Part IV

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5]

Chapter 4

The blizzard had finally let up a bit, some hours later. Mark and I had slept by the warmth of the fire for most of the time. Sure, we spoke a little more but it was agreed that finding the old woman our top priority.

The comfort of the cottage seemed so inviting compared to this frozen forest we have been unsuccessfully navigating for a while now. It is hard to tell which time of day it is or which direction this lake might be located – or if it even existed!

“Hey,” I say, “I thought you knew where this lake was.”

“We should have been there by now. I was frazzled and injured when I walked towards you. My face was bloodied and I was highly disoriented. But I do remember the lake. It was the first thing I recalled. Next thing I knew you found me,” he replies with a hint of frustration in his voice.

“So you could have been walking around for hours? Right?” I question, as I too am starting to get frustrated.

“My god, Raquel! Doubting me is like doubting yourself!”

“I am beginning to doubt both of us,” I respond. He does, in fact, have a point. I was never one to exaggerate or stretch the truth. “I do believe you. I want to believe you but all I see is trees and I’m freezing.”

“Agreed. Let’s keep going until we can’t. We need to find a way out of here.”

We walk and walk and walk some more for another hour, at least. All I see are snow covered pine trees. One after the next and then another again. It was as if we were walking down a never-ending path with moving scenery. Could this be another trick conjured up by that old hag?

“Look over there,” Mark suddenly screams, his finger pointed to a group of trees in the distance.

I look as far as I can but all I see are trees and snow and more trees and more snow and, that dark grey cloak, those cold grey eyes. It was the woman, I was sure of it. She is walking casually between the trees in the distance. 

Mark sprints towards that old woman and I have no choice but to start running as well. I see her move behind another pine tree and Mark blurts something out to me. It’s muffled and I can’t make out what he said. I catch up to him finally as he frantically looks in all directions.

“That lady is gone! Dammit!” He shouts.  His voice breaks and he is nearly out of breath.

“Look over there!” I yell to him as I see that old witch again, this time in a completely different direction. How did she do that? Perhaps she is a witch or some kind of sorceress.

We start sprinting again and reach another tree and that damn woman isn’t there again. Mark starts dashing in yet a different direction. I follow behind and spot that old hag myself. We reach another tree and guess what?

“What the hell!” He shouts.

“What the hell is right,” I say. I hear the sound of my voice echo through the forest. I just can’t get over how feminine it sounds. When I hear Mark speak it’s like listening to an old recording stuck in my head. The way I used to sound. The fight and struggle I have been through to finally reach this point.

I spot the woman again and barely have time to grab Mark’s arm and we begin sprinting again. I reach the tree and there is no woman, and this is getting ridiculous. Her plan must be to tire us out and then strike when we are vulnerable.

Mark and I are panting like a pack of tired dogs trying to suck in the freezing air and catch our breath. I can hear the sound of ducks nearby. Ducks?

“Shhh,” I whisper as Mark gives me an annoyed look. He is hunched over with his hands on his knees wheezing. 

“I-damn-wuh-mon,” he tries to say still inhaling and exhaling.

“Shhh,” I whisper again, “do you hear the ducks? It’s coming from over there.”

His breaths begin to normalize and he raises his head in the air. The sound of quacking can clearly be heard by both of us now.

I start a brisk walk and try to locate these ducks. I wind and weave in and out of trees and then I see it. The lake just as Mark had described. The winter on this side, and what appears to be a warmer climate on the other side. The lake couldn’t be a half-mile across.

The waters are as still as a photograph as I approach the bank. I look down and see my reflection in the lake. I am mesmerized. My cheekbones are high and defined. My lips are plump and perfect. My breasts full and my body curvy and voluptuous. I only wish I had makeup on so I could see the full effect. My blonde hair hangs over my shoulders as I look down into the lake.

“Beautiful, Perfect,” says a thunderous voice coming from the sky. It sounds almost ethereal, majestic. It was as clear as anything I had ever heard. I pick my head up and look over at Mark, he was already looking towards the murky clouds overhead. It is obvious that we both heard the voice.

“What the hell!” He says.

“You heard that, right? I’m not crazy?” I ask for reassurance, but I already know the answer.

“Yes. It sounded like what I thought God would sound like if he spoke to me,” Mark says and I agree by nodding my head. He continues, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“We have to find a way across this lake,” I respond quickly.

“I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

“That’s because you basically did,” I say and we both laugh. It feels good to have something to joke about. I scan the frozen shore of the lake for any answer to our little problem.

Tags: featured, fiction, Identity

Category: Fiction