Water spurted out while convulsions took a hold of her body.

As air returned to her frozen lungs, Lynn rolled on her side and pressed her wet face against the grass. She wheezed, coughed and breathed in sharply. Until the deadly water was sliding down her chin and her stomach twisted like a snake rolling over itself. With a wince, she closed her eyes and let the soft grass comfort her sweaty body.

Soft - not frozen beneath layers of snow and ice.

Realization arrived hand-in-hand with a sense of awareness about her current surroundings, and her eyelids cracked open to let the cascade of colours melt her pain away.

"Get a towel or a blanket, Nick. She's freezing."

The familiar voice of Oliver brought peace to her heart, and she tilted her head to meet his concerned frown.

They were alive, breathing. Her friends.

Tears threatened to escape their prison behind her puffy eyes, yet they never saw the light - she felt too drained to even cry.

"What happened?" she rasped out, wincing ever so slightly as the words scraped their way out through her sore throat.

Dana was there to engulf her in one of her rare, bone-crushing hugs. Her petite body shook with long, racking sobs as tears spilled out.

"You dived in and wouldn't come up." Stepping away, Dana proceeded to reward her with one of her familiar, bruising punches. "Just what the hell were you thinking, Lynn?"

Her anguished eyes filled Lynn with compassion. There weren't many times when Dana was brought to tears, which made her heart shake with guilt as she realized she was the cause of her distress.

"Let's talk inside," Oliver interjected while wrapping around her the wool blanket that Nick had returned with as the women were hugging. Helping Lynn to her feet, he supported her exhausted body with ease and started walking towards the watchful house. "Mark and Nick will help me make some hot chocolate, right?"

Behind her, Mark made a noise of complaint. "I hate cooking, man."

"Sucks to be you," commented Nick, never one to let gloomy moments drag for too long, in a sing-song voice. "Watching cat videos and pulling pranks is all you do. No wonder you're single."

"You're single too!"

Nick shrugged. "I'm still a flower. You ain't getting any younger and are going to be left on the shelf at this rate."

"I'm only two years older than you, twat. But you know what, Nick? You're right." He paused and cleared his throat. "Hey, Da--"

"Not in a million years."

Unable to stop herself, Lynn chortled. As she stepped inside the house and the watchful stare of the trees was blocked by the front door, her body shivered in the warm atmosphere.

"Why don't you go for a shower? You won't stop shaking," Dana suggested as the three men disappeared in the kitchen.

"You grab a chair and make yourself comfortable in the friend-zone, Mark," rang Nick's teasing voice before the door closed.

The idea of a warm shower sounded too good. Dana was right; she couldn't shake off the cold. It was embedded in her blood, freezing her aching body and keeping her in an endless string of shivers.

They walked up the creaking stairs in expectant silence, as the remembrance of the frozen lake and her dead friends mingled with the comforting company Dana provided. Confusion clawed at her mind, slowly driving her insane as she attempted to find an answer that would dissipate the whirlwind of prodding questions.

As expected, Dana didn't allow her to leave her sight. She followed Lynn into the bathroom and sat down on the floor, leaning her back against the light-grey wall.

"Are you going to tell me what's happening to you, Lynn? You're on edge and acting strange," she elaborated while crossing her arms over her busty chest. "What's going on?"

Leaning over to try the cascading water, the Morris woman got rid of her cold bikini and stepped into the shower. Her muscles sighed in delight as the hot water massaged their soreness and a curtain of steam hid her from the frightening outside.

"I don't know," Lynn confessed in a quiet voice. "Ever since I got here, I'm struggling to stay sane. Sometimes I can't tell the difference between what's real and what this place is making my mind believe."

Dana remained silent for some seconds, before her words cut through the air like a knife. "I thought your hallucinations had stopped."

"They did," she assured with a huff. "It took a while, but they were gone. It's something about this fucking house and that stupid lake, Dana."

It had to be.

"Because it's cursed?"

A short laugh escaped Lynn, who understood just how much like a lunatic she sounded. But the more she stood under the hot water, the more she believed something about that place wasn't right; as if the cloud surrounding her thoughts washed away.

"What else could it be?" she wondered aloud.

Dana sighed at the other side of the curtain shower. "You said it yourself: some wounds never truly heal. You've been so focused on making sure your mother recovered that you've neglected your own pain. Now that you've stepped away and given yourself a break, everything is coming back to haunt you."

With a click of her tongue, Lynn pursed her lips and ran a hand through her short locks. "That's not how it works. Not in this case."

"So, in this case, it's the lake. That sounds legit."

Ignoring her sarcasm, Lynn turned the water off and stared at the droplets gliding along the humid wall in front of her. "I don't know, Dana. There's just something off about this place that's making me reconsider Mrs. Houston's strange warning."

A sudden, chilling breeze slithered inside to whisper upon her wet skin. Lynn shivered and frowned. "Can you pass me the towel?"

Footsteps echoed in the small bathroom before a towel was hanging over the curtains for her to take. Curling her fingers around the fluffy material, Lynn wrapped it around her cold body and sighed in relief.

"Thank y--"

The words died in her suddenly-dry throat as her eyes landed on the shadow of her friend as it stood behind the curtain. Only that it couldn't be Dana's. It was slim and unnaturally-long as it stood still in its inhumanity. Its head was tilted as it hovered before her wide eyes, so close yet so far away.

Lynn couldn't move; ice seemed to have wrapped her muscles in a tight embrace, disabling them. Her heart beat in her ears, silencing her deadly surroundings and only letting her hear her own panic.

And then, the shadow grew in size.

No, it hadn't grown - it was the same. But it was closer; its blackness coated her vision, trapping her like the prey she was. Its faceless head remained concealed by the curtain as it neared her frozen form. Its jaws opened to breathe out, and a tearing noise cut across the gelid air as a grey fang poked through the curtain.

"That old hag..." A stench of acid and rotten flesh wafted towards her as its humid breath fanned her face. "Her heart was soft when we ripped it out... full of terror -- her blood so deliciously bittersweet." A snake-like tongue, sharp like a knife, pierced the curtain to sail the air that escaped her in the form of a shaky exhalation. "We can still hear her limbs blowing to smithereens..."

You're hallucinating. This isn't real!

But the voice in her head was barely heard over the hisses of the monster tormenting her. Its tongue paralysed her as it reached to slide along her cheek, and tears began forming in her eyes as her muscles still refused to respond to her silent screams of panic.

Her hands were clenched into fists as terror shook her body. That tongue felt rough, jagged and slimy as it devoured her will to fight before slicing her skin open.

Snap out of it!

Like a wave of electricity pulsating through her veins, the sharp pain provoked by the cut on her cheek awakened her drowsy muscles. And she reacted the only way she knew.

With a war-cry which reflected all the anxiety and desperation swimming in her pounding heart, Lynn threw a punch at the swaying shadow. But her attack didn't meet flesh; it cut through empty nothingness and sent her toppling over the bathtub to crash on the hard floor. As she battled against the suffocating curtains, she heard someone's footsteps in the distance.

"Lynn!" Dana rushed over and helped her out of her mess, throwing the curtains away and placing a warm hand on her shoulder. "Are you ok?"

No, I'm not. I'm losing my fucking mind!

Breathing heavily and trying to cling onto what was left of her sanity, Lynn shook her head and looked around. There was no trace of the monster; no strange shadow taunting her, no smell of death in the air.

"When did you leave?" she asked, frantically searching for the reason behind her vivid hallucinatinos.

Dana frowned, as if the question didn't make sense to her. "When you told me to get you some warm clothes from your bag."

Lynn ran a hand through her dishevelled hair. "But I didn't..."

She had no memory of that. Glancing around again, she wondered if her friend was right after all -- if she had neglected her broken soul for her mother's sake and everything was coming back now that she was giving herself a break.

Compassion filled Dana's voice as she sighed and said, "Let's join the rest downstairs. Oliver is right - hot chocolate will make you feel better. And then we can discuss our options."

Still shaken by her hallucination, Lynn nodded and sent her a grateful smile through her turmoil. "Hot chocolate always helps."

Her positive response melted Dana's concern away from her brown eyes for a second as relief illuminated her face. Somehow, the sight made the negative sensations beating inside feel less heavy -- less suffocating.

"You had quite a fight. What did the shower curtain do to you?" Dana picked it up and waved it in front of her, laughing ever so lightly. "Look at this hole... Did you bite it? It's all slimy. Disgusting."

Confused, Lynn averted her eyes towards said hole in the curtain. And her blood ran cold.

Standing up, Lynn didn't pay attention to the fact her body was wrapped in a towel given by an illusion and tilted her head to glance at the mirror. Dread formed in the pit of her stomach, but she forced herself to step towards it and ran a hand along the steamed-up glass.

It can't be. It was a hallucination.

Then why was there a cut on her cheek, reminding her of that serpent tongue and telling her a different story?

In her head, a voice replied with intimidating determination.

Because it wasn't.

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Word count: 1.841

Total count: 11.246