Index was once a small and close-knit community, but the town located on the western side of Washington state has grown in recent years beyond anyone's expectations. It is the ideal place for those who work in Seattle but can't afford the city's high real estate prices, and for others the natural beauty attracts them to the town. And Index truly is a beautiful place - surrounded by thick evergreen trees, tall mountains and glistening rivers and lakes. While weather is typically rainy with overcast skies even this does nothing to take away from the beauty of the town, and it is only highlighted further when the heavy snow graces the town and caps the mountains in winter. To many, Index would seem like a paradise. And yet lurking beneath this visual beauty there is more to this town than anyone might ever imagine...

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 [Private] Quicksand

[Private] Quicksand

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[Private] Quicksand

Vincent Sawyer Byrne | Wolf; Pack Master/Alpha

Posted on Mon Nov 06, 2017 7:49 pm

[W] Eerily calm. Clear skies.
[L] Snoqualmie National Forest / Claire Trevinos House
[T] Sometime after dark; Months ago.

Do you remember leaving?

I didn't. I also didn't remember when I'd begun talking to myself. Even more perplexing was the more sinister question which I'd left unspoken, but couldn't ignore. Was I really talking to myself? Or was I talking to her? I couldn't bear the thought of the latter, but craved it just the same. Insanity was a far less troublesome burden to bear. Insanity provided answers to the infinite number of questions that had disoriented me for the past few years. Insanity even answered my latest question. Do you remember leaving? I didn't.

In fact... The last thing I remembered was the embrace of a ravens wing. Its feathers turning into scales and those scales reflecting the morning sun...


My head tilted back, face aimed at the sky which was littered in it's own shimmering lights. None of which resembled scales or the way they sparkled in the morning sun. You've lost an entire day. Maybe more. That voice... Distorted, yet full of clarity in its honesty. It should have frightened me how little hesitation I felt. I trusted what it had to say. There was no gender attached to it, or even a face. Just a distorted sound in my head like a scratchy radio station playing on a speaker under water. I only understood it because it came with mental subtitles that only I could decipher. Fuck... Maybe this was madness. I certainly didn't feel sane, and I was pretty sure I didn't look it either. My hair was still coated in lake slime, skin pale and feet bare as I wandered through the Snoqualmie forest in the middle of the night like I was the Creature from the Black Lagoon...

It's so loud...

It was. The piercing sound of tree branches scraping together and leaves rattling through the breeze... The violent cracks of branches breaking... The distant yet deafening rumble of the freeway... All of it made me long for the low, muted moans of the bottom of the lake. I gripped the sides of my head, nails digging into my scalp as I bounced through the forest trees like a pin ball, before finally tripping over a root. My palms hit the ground, fingers stretched in all directions...

It felt as if the wind had been knocked right out of me. It was the only clear moment I'd experienced since regaining consciousness. A memory that I knew was mine and only mine. A woman's voice speaking of drowning and Jesus... My sight grew blurry but I could see the black growing from the soil... I could feel it slowly crawling up the sides of my hands like the jungle roots from Jumanji. And when I tried to pull away, it only grew faster... Coiling it's way around my wrist before disappearing under my skin. My veins began to darken... The black was inside me. A toxic brand of hatred and rage like cyanide in my veins. I watched it crawl up my arms and could feel it burning it's way through my bloodstream. I could literally feel myself rotting from it's poison... And it only moved faster, reaching my neck before I could even inhale. My fingers clawed at my throat, but it was too late. Water began seeping out of my nose and mouth. My eyes were so wide it felt like they were popping out of my skull. I could feel that I was surrounded by oxygen, I wasn't under water anymore, but it didn't matter... I just sunk into the earth like it was a quicksand, paralyzed as water oozed out of my mouth and everything grew darker...

I'd had the dream every night since. The memory of my first... Whatever the fuck you wanted to call it. Every time I had it, it was a little different. But the hell wasn't in the little changing details. The hell was in the big bullet points. What the fuck did I care if in one dream there was a moth and in the next a fucking butterfly? What significance was in changing the sky from midnight black to midday baby blue? I didn't see the point, but maybe that was the point. To drive me fucking mad with obsession over something so fucking insignificant...

I guess I shouldn't have been surprised when I realized where I was. This particular dream was extra horrific. The water rushing out of my nose and mouth had been changed to a disturbing shade of red. Blood. It was fucking blood that I was drowning in. Which was why it was no surprise that when I regained consciousness I was surrounded by the scent of blood. A Raven's blood... And even more disturbing was the undeniable hunger I felt. I was fucking salivating at the scent. Forget the fact that I was standing in the middle of someone elses bedroom in the middle of the night with no recollection of how I even got there. Or the fact that I could smell the blood of an old friend and for some reason it was making me drool. And as an added cherry on top, I still felt paralyzed... Unable to move. I just stood there... salivating and staring blankly at my own glowing eyed reflection...

Just fucking thankful to be awake and breathing...

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Claire Trevino

Re: [Private] Quicksand

Claire Trevino | Human; Citizen

Posted on Tue Nov 07, 2017 4:12 pm

I didn’t keep track of Logan, and I didn’t keep track of Michelle, at least I hadn’t been recently. It was a mixed blessing that she seemed to “forget” Vincent. It was such a strange, sudden thing. She didn’t keep her eyes glued to her phone, but it never left her hand until that point. The other thing? She seemed… healed. Physically, at least. She was too happy for me to truly worry about the idea that maybe someone or something had helped her along. I didn’t know much about the supernatural, but from personal experience I knew it existed. I knew us “normies” could be manipulated but I didn’t know how or when, etc. She thinks she dreamed her injuries, but she’ll learn she didn’t when she gets her hospital bills. I had to believe she knew somewhere in that head. She almost had an aversion to going home, even though she texted and obsessively talked to her roommate daily. But she said she’d try to leave here soon. I didn’t care, I liked the company - even though the whole situation kept me feeling a little down.

I spent a lonely evening drinking a glass of wine - something I almost had an aversion to until memories of my old life started flooding in. My tastes didn’t completely change but they seemed to shift. Logan was… working? Drinking? I didn’t care too much - I wasn’t his keeper or his “wifey”. Michelle was having a much needed night out. So, a book, pajamas, cabernet - It was comforting and distracting. I laughed out loud at an unexpected moment in the book - a rich young girl not understanding that this thirty year old car didn’t have navigation. The wine hit and so did the struggle to really retain anything I read, so I brushed my teeth and called it a night.

Noises brought me awake prematurely. Logan coming in, had to be, the steps were heavier than Michelle’s even when she was drunk. I’d sat up, started to say something but my eyes began to flutter. Wine really seemed to put me under. But that last flicker had my eyes ending in open - wide open. A figure stood darker than the black already blanketing the room. My heart stopped, it felt like minutes - until finally it jarred back into life, powering my brain and reminding me to clumsily wrench open the drawer of the nightstand and pull out the gun. I aimed it at the figure, thinking I still didn’t look much like a threat as much as I was shaking.

Get the hell out of my house!

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