ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪɴᴄʜᴇꜱᴛᴇʀ'ꜱ||ꜱᴜᴘᴇʀɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴀʟ

ʟᴀᴢᴀʀᴜꜱ ʀɪꜱɪɴɢ (ᴘᴛ 1)

Y/N lays down flat in a dark and small space; she breathes heavily as her eyes move under her eyelids, screaming running through her mind before her eyes snap open. She flicks her lighter on and comes face to face with wood. She tries to move her limbs only to be blocked by more wood. She is inside a wooden coffin.

"Help!" She shouts, her voice extremely hoarse "Help! Help!" Y/N pounds on the wood above her head; dirt rains down on her face as she continues to pound.

In the middle of a grassy field, a simple wooden cross is planted. A hand then bursts out of the dirt in front of the cross, followed by another. The hands push the dirt away to leave a path for Y/N's head to pop up. She crawls her way out of the ground, groaning and gasping. She lies on her back, panting. She stands and looks around in the glaring sunlight. Around her crude headstone is a perfect circle of dead trees, laying on the ground.

==

Through hazy heat, Y/N walks down an empty road. She's taken of her flannel and wrapped it around her waist, leaving her in her grey shirt. She approaches an abandoned gas station and pounds on the door.

"Hello?" She says, her voice still hoarse. She looks through the window and sees no one there and she sighs.

"You can just break in you know" A voice says. She turns around, back pressed against the door as her eyes widen, looking at the person.

"Your me?" In front of Y/N stands another Y/N, only she's wearing a leather jacket and pants. The other Y/N laughs.

"Of course, I'm you" She walks forward and taps Y/N on the forehead "I am from your own head. Now, break in like I said before you die of dehydration" She unties her flannel from around her waist and rolls up over her right hand and breaks the glass on the door; reaching her hand in and opening the door. Inside; she grabs a water bottle from the fridge and gulps at it, gasping. She looks around before finding a newspaper. She walks over and grabs the newspaper, looking at the date, which reads: Thursday, September 18th

"September" Y/N mutters, looking outside.

"Surprise, you've been dead for 4 months, not 40 years" Y/N turns around to see the other Y/N, sitting on a counter eating a chocolate bar, her legs swinging back and forth.

"So, have I gone crazy or something?" Y/N asks "How are you here?" The other Y/N chuckles.

"Your 90% sane" She says, chewing the chocolate bar "And as I said, I came from your own mind" Y/N looks her up and down.

"And my own mind came up with a punk rock version of myself?"

"Nah, I chose this. I didn't want to look EXACTLY like you" The other Y/N straightens her jacket "Besides, I think you look cool in this"

"I do rock a leather jacket" Y/N turns towards a sink "I might get one"

"You'd suit it" Other Y/N says, munching on another chocolate bar. Y/N begins washing her face in a dingy sink, then looks up and stares at her reflection. Frowning, she stands and pulls up her shirt to expose her stomach and chest. She remembers the hellhounds ripping her chest and stomach apart. She starts at her unblemished, unscarred chest in the dingy gas station mirror. She turns her left shoulder to the mirror and pulls up the sleeve to reveal a large, raw handprint brand.

"What?" Y/N mutters. The other Y/N looks at it in pain.

"Ouch. That look like it burns" She says, she slaps the handprint and Y/N pulls away hissing in pain.

"Ow! What the hell!" Y/N pulls down her shirt, glaring at the other Y/N.

"Just wanted to see if it hurt" She says, shrugging and walking away.