The Outlanders

The Woman, and The Swamp

KASPER

It's like a peaceful sleep. Nothing but the dark, and the silence. I don't remember what happened, not all of it anyway. And something tells me it's probably better that it stays as such. Maybe I passed out in the back porch. And it's that same feeling of being asleep in such a comfortable way that you don't ever want to get up. Maybe I should be getting up. Or at the very least trying to.

My first instinct was to take a deep breath. And I do. My body jolts forward, hands feeling around my neck, as if they had a mind of their own, fighting a battle I was never a part of.

I'm soaked.

Everything below my shoulders, dipped in water. Not clear water. Murky. Duckweed and other types of vegetation that I can't identify dotted the area surrounding me. My back pressed against the hard trunk of a mossy tree. Whatever envelops my vision is dark, every sunken evergreen scattered about tricks my mind into thinking it was another person, the only difference is, that it possesses a large enough stature, that I know it isn't. I can't breathe right, and it's not because of the foul smell the place gave off, but because each time I try to take a breath, I cough. And every cough feels like there's blood coming out my throat. My hands fall back down the water, the mud below makes me feel queasy. There's more than just earth. Like fallen branches and soggy leaves. I'm quick to retract my hands and get up. The force of my body sloshes the water up to my face, temporarily creating a circumference clear of the vegetation. I breathe through the pain and the coughs. My chest hurts. My throat hurts. And I have no idea where I am. I turn where I stand to look behind me. All I see is the large tree looming over. I push off of it. I could tell my left foot's stuck, sunken far too deep in the mud for it to just move. So I push harder. It does the job, but it nearly topples my entire frame over. I've been pushed into swimming pools at parties before, and not once did I ever like the feeling being soaked, especially with clothes on. The fabric clings to the skin, and it's hard not to notice. Couple that with the disgusting feeling of weed and dirt, and you have yourself a walking disaster. I'm sweating, which isn't exactly making the situation any better. I pad down my jeans, searching for anything I might still have. No phone. No wallet. Nothing. I'm still in the same attire I decided to wear last night, and I haven't had a proper bath. Worst part is, I haven't even began to try and decipher where on earth I've somehow landed myself in. I try to recall the events of the night before;

I was talking to Mars on the phone. I went to the back porch and-- something attacked me. I could have been dreaming. But the pain my neck perceives say otherwise.

I'm in a state of panic. So much so that I can't decide what I should do first. I could fall on my knees and scream. Out of fear, or out of anger, I'm not quite sure yet. Instead I wade forward. I move until I'm satisfied, but it doesn't seem like it got me anywhere. I kick something on accident, and a log surfaces from the water. I move back, and reexamine it. It is just a log. But it scares me to know that there might be more than just logs. Crocodiles, maybe? It's not a thought I need so I cast it away from my head, but I know it's done the job of scaring me half to death, because I'm wading faster, even using my hands to pull me against the resistance of the water. I'm panicking.

I'm actually panicking.

"HELP!" I yell as loud as my body would let me. There wasn't an echo, and I worry that my voice would fall on deaf ears. Or no ears for that matter. I also fear that the swamp was going to keep expanding the more I explore it. Even as I try to deduce the place geographically, I can't. I'm not even sure there are swamps near home.

I'm nowhere near home. So where am I? And how did I get here?

"HELP!" I yell again--

Wait.