The fog has finally begun to clear. The murky waters of the swamp begin to reflect as the sun, which seems to have been missing for ages finally kisses its surface. It's oddly quiet, no sound other than the occasional gust of ominous wind through the trees and the echoing splash of water as an unseen creature moves within its confines. Something isn’t right about this place. Could it be the glowing eyes that remain constantly under the surface of the water? The ones that you can only catch glimpses of before the glowing red orbs dart back down to the murky depths of sludge? Or is it the constant cries from the shading of trees surrounding? The ones that you aren't quite sure are animals or the scream of someone you may know? The sound of footsteps on crunching sticks and leaves disrupts this eerie quiet, Quinn stomped through this forest of baleful as if they lorded over it. To her there was no mystery of this insane place, it was merely a realm of mayhem in which no being could reasonably survive. And yet somehow civilization took up root here, if it could even be called civilization. The cult that ran this town worshiped a giant crocodile for god sake. Which is what Quinn was currently running from in fact. In the far distance she could hear the angry screams from the elders to go and find her. Quinn knew that she was fucked, she knew since the second her grandfather had asked her to meet with him by the cave in the forest. Grandfather never called her unless something catastrophic was happening, and yet this time Grandfather was the calamity. Quinn cursed her stupidity as she reached the cave, throwing herself into its shadows and sliding down the moss covered stone heaving for her breath to return to her. She didn't know how long she was running, and she couldn’t bear to run anymore. So why… Why did she do it? Why did she subject herself to live a life on the run just because grandfather told her? The plan. Fuck the plan. It sounded so good when he explained it with his voice that rang out like an ancient greek titan, he had a way of speech that made him sound like he had been on this Earth long before anyone and will remain long after everyone. But he was dead now. Killed within 10 minutes of stage one of the plan. Quinn suspected that he had known he would die, otherwise he would have never brought her along for such a stupid journey. She had become not only the fall guy, but now the sole person who had to finish things. She wished she realized this the second Grandfather began crafting his plan with his dirt smeared across the walls of this cave. The only home Quinn had now. Her safe haven. Not for long as the sounds of the approaching cult members drew near. She held her breath and made herself as small as possible as she heard the cries of the master. “QUINN LENVI! We know you are near! We have come to arrest you for your act of treason against the Mother! Come out and no harm shall be dealt to your family!” She knew this was all a lie. The only family she had was dead already, chomped before her very eyes by the Mother. He had died a martyr, one that would be unknown by the world. A martyr that would be woven into a terrorist by the land. He had poisoned the Mother. He was going to put an end to this reign and the swamp would die with it. He cast not only himself aside, but the whole ecosystem of the community. The Mother who gave life to this desolate place, the swamp ate from her energy and devoured those who opposed her. As she sat hidden within the stones and moss, covering her breath with her hands Quinn remembered those boogeyman stories that the elders would read when she was a child. The stories of outsiders being brought to the swamp and told the rules, yet they refused to accept the Mother into their souls and so they were sacrificed. Made to be taken to the forest that screams in the night. Never to be seen again except for the night when the moon shines the brightest onto the murky waters of the swamp. Where those who loved the mother could see their unfortunate souls trapped within the algae and beings of the haunted waters. Their screams bubbling up through the water, echoing out from the trees. She shivered with the memory, pinching her arm to refocus on the situation at hand. The footsteps drew closer and the only escape routes were either through town or through the forest. Quinn knew she was a woman now at the age of 19 and had long forgotten of the terror she first felt upon hearing those stories, yet she still couldn’t bear the thought of going into the forest after dark and the sun was already running quickly away from the tips of the trees. The fog was back too, the fog that she swore followed her and listened to the secrets within her mind. It was going to reveal her, she knew it as she watched it creep its way towards her through the cave. And then the noise stopped entirely. No wind. No rippling water. Nothing. “There you are Quinny,” Two golden eyes popped out of the dark at the end of the cave, there stood the master. His mouth twisted into a sadistic grin, teeth sharp and shining with intent. A silent scream escaped her mouth as her palms hit the cold wet stone, pushing herself away only to shove hard into the back wall. She was trapped. “Where are you going, Quinny girl?” His slow long steps echoed, yet Quinn could barely hear them over the sound of blood beating through her ears. She was going to die now. She was going to die because she had listened to grandfather and his crazy plans, like she always did. Why? Why couldn't she just listen to the community, to the pointed comments made by her teachers about fitting in with the rest of them. To the feeling of eyes as her and Grandfather walked through the markets. Why didn’t she just listen when everyone told her he wasn’t well, that what he told her with such earnestness and wisdom in his tone were simply just the ravings of an old cookie man? And why now in the final hour, as her death approached with his long black cloak and sharp smiling teeth, did she think to still trust him? Her eyes darted around looking for anything, a rock to throw or even a stick to stab with, when she saw it. Blue. The color of her grandfather's eyes. The color of safety. The color of the marking carved into the side of the stone next to her. And then she remembered what he always told her when she began to have those panic attacks when she was 10. “Quinny girl, when everything is screaming at you and the world is so loud, do this.” He took her hand in his and spread her palm open, pressing it against the cold stone of their wall. “Breath. Now I feel the cold. The cold will welcome you into its silence, if you only ask.” It was a crazy idea. It was barely an idea. But it was better than being sacrificed if it worked. She pressed her hand into the stone marking, trying her hardest to breathe. To feel the cold. The Master grew closer, raising a shining sword carved from a tooth of the mother above his head. She focused harder. “Please. Please. Please” “Silly girl, just what are you doing?” His sword came down. And she fell through the stone. “GOD DAMMIT! WHERE DID YOU GO YOU BRAT?” This could not be real. Could it? How was she here right now sitting on the grass just outside the cave? Her fingers came to her face to double check that it was real and it was there. The moon was here tonight. Oh. It must be The Bluest Night, that's funny, of course it would be tonight. The night she was sure to die. The night she fell through stone. Quinns ponderings at life came to a quick end as her ears snapped back into reality upon hearing the stomping of the Master on the inside of the cave, running to finish the job. Before she knew it she was on her feet running again, the ground felt different as did the air. Everything was colder and tinted with blue. She didn’t have time to question why, as the Master had finally made it out of the cave. Fuck he was fast. Gaining on her in a matter of seconds as she ran towards the swamp, where the blue faces of the traitors were bubbling up their screams of horror tonight. Except as she grew closer no screams of horror were ringing in her ears. Instead she could hear a quiet humming, a soft sweet sound, beaconing her to the water. What was that? And why was the glow of the swamp a serene, magical looking blue? As if it was a light in the dark, and she was the moth. There was nowhere else to go, she came to a running halt in front of the water. Inside there were no tortured faces, inside there was a single reflection of the moon, it was calling her. Telling her to come to safety. The Master was seconds from her, with a few more steps he could grab her, there was no other route to take that wasn’t the forest, which was so black tonight. A quiet, haunting black. And then the endless waters of the swamp, with the sweet call of the moon. Was this it? The end? Was this what grandfather worked for, a world without him, Quinn, and the mother? That couldn’t be right. No. She had to make a decision. Death or the Blue? The master was here, reaching his hand to grab the frail girl staring into the swamp, but then she jumped. Opening the hole at the center of the world. And as she fell through the water, watching the dark of the world she knew fade into ripples above her, she wondered if this was the start of the end.