Monsters and Maidens

Even with the falling rain, Rick approached the building with a careful step, wary of potential occupants. The house was two stories tall; it was likely the main home, judging by the layout at least. The structure had windows but no glass. There were shutters made of wood that appeared to have been put there, meant to close the rectangular holes, but they were rotting and partially falling off. If not for the white paint and the exactness in the finish in the stone, he would’ve considered the whole thing to be rather medieval. There was something off about it, even though he couldn’t quite put his finger on what exactly.

Frowning, he tried to ignore the rain and carefully peer through the open door into the building. The entrance led to a foyer, moss dotted every corner. It wasn’t painted, rotting wood decorated the walls. The smell was humid and stale; the floor was covered with broken tiles, small stones, and pieces of loose vegetation.

With a brief pause, Rick leaned down to watch the tiles more closely. They weren’t crushed, only fractured, and raising one tile he found cold gray smooth stone underneath. Cement? Stone cut smooth cement, worn, cracked paint, but no glass? His mind whirled as he stepped further inside, finding the increasing gloom something that put him on edge.

He thought of where he’d left his cellphone last and grimaced, he’d given it to Barry. With a contained sigh he focused on the now and not in the uncomfortable memory that gnawed at him. The house was silent, and the human tried his best to keep it that way. The crunch of sand under his steps still felt as loud as gunshots, but the pitter-patter of rain began drowning it out.

Carefully Rick pushed further in, taking a right at the foyer and finding himself looking at what appeared to be a kitchen. The cupboards were all flung open or falling off, rotten; the floor was littered with dirt and moss. Cracks and mud adorned the walls where the wood had fallen off. It took him a moment to realize there was no sink nor faucet. There was also a door that led underground at the corner. He peered down into the darkness.

There was a sound coming from down there, a soft rhythmic tinker. Closing his eyes, he recognized it. Dripping water.

“Nope.”

He would be blind down there, and if it was flooded, then it would be even less of a reason to go there. He limited himself to give a quick look around the kitchen, finding nothing that could shed a light on what had happened or when. There were only moldy wooden plates and a single fork that had rusted almost beyond recognition.

Turning around, he went to the other side of the bottom floor. A dining room. The windows here had their shutters torn either from age or something else. It was far better illuminated than the kitchen. Outside, the rain was becoming more intense. It left Rick wondering if he should go get the others. No, he had to finish checking the area to make sure it was safe.

With that self-reminder, he opted to ignore potential clues and instead check whether there was anything else here. His eyes glanced at the cement stairs that led to the second floor. Sighing, he steeled his nerves and made his way up.

The sound of the rain on the rooftop became louder as he moved. He could barely hear his steps. Eyes peeled, he froze when a flash illuminated everything from outside.

Lightning. One Mississippi, two Mississ-

BOOM

That had been close, VERY close. It rattled the structure and walls. It made him flinch, but he couldn’t let himself be distracted. Rick finished ascending to the second floor, keeping his tour of the place to the minimum. He spotted three rooms- two with bed-frames, and one with a desk. He didn’t see any bathrooms. Not seeing anything else in the house, he relaxed, turning around and heading back down.

Stepping outside, he turned towards the woods and tried to spot Kat and Tomas, waving his arms over his head to quietly signal them to come over as best he could. He wasn’t able to spot either of them, though. Not wanting to shout, he used his backpack as improvised cover from the rain and hurried to the river. Squinting, he spotted a speck of light in the forest that waved back.

His hopes rose, and soon enough he saw both former students running across the field doing their best to stay dry with their backpacks. The teacher nodded, waving them over as he waited next to the bridge.

‘RICK!’

The voice slammed against his thoughts like a brick through a window. It had come from neither Kat nor Tomas, but from somewhere that felt both far away and nearby. Almost as if screamed into his thoughts. And with it came the notion of impending danger.

Rick’s head snapped to the left, upstream. The river had grown muddy, wide, fast, its water lapping against the base of the bridge hungrily. But that was not what had made his heart forget to beat.

It was the flood that was rushing their way, the wall of water had broken out past its shores and ate up the land with furious, unstoppable force. “MOVE!” He shouted at the two who had seen where he’d been looking at and pushed for a dead sprint. The bridge groaned under them, and they broke into a run all the harder once at the other side.

The flash flood slammed against the remains of the fences at the edge of the farm, eating them and submerging them in the muddy current. It was closing in on them and fast. The three of them ran towards the house as fast as they could, the only place in sight that was safe.

The mud gave and slipped under Rick’s foot. He tripped, falling. He scrambled to get back up. Tomas was the first one to make it to the building, having gotten a decent headway to the others. Kat was close behind by mere virtue of being dragged there by him.

“Straight in, second floor!” Rick shouted over the clap of thunder up above.

The wave of water slammed against him just as he’d made it all the way to the edge of the building. His body was like a rag doll as he felt the outer wall of the house hit him from the other side. His hands reached out to grab anything he could find. They found purchase at one window.

The stream threatened to drag him away, to sink him in. The mud swirled all around him. His skull was underwater; he couldn’t breathe. His fingers were slipping against the stone while he desperately pulled himself closer. The river rose further, its pull becoming impossible to fight against.

A hand grabbed him and yanked.

Rick sputtered and coughed, damp from head to toe, feeling the flood washing against his knees as the hands dragged him forward. Half-blind, he followed, steps splashing against water as he was pulled up the stairs.

The young teacher collapsed, breathing hard and laying on his back.

“… thanks.” His eyes turned to Tomas, he was covered in mud and looking equal parts panicked and proud.

“It was… nothing,” he panted.

“Fuck that was close.” Kat’s voice rang in his ears, drowned out only by a crack of thunder from outside. Her phone flashed its light to everything surrounding them.

Sitting up, the teacher glanced down the stairs. The water was lapping against the first steps.

And it was rising.