Quick note: Wrote this a few years ago (I think 2019?) for TheCRYPTIC_ on here. You can still go read the story over on that profile in the Halloween Anthology book, I'm just copying it over here because I think that account has gone inactive at this point and I'd like to stick stuff in places.

For y'all over at TheCryptic_ ,if I need to remove this here let me know and I'll do it.

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They say time heals all wounds.

I say whoever said that is dead and time can't heal that now, can it?

It's funny how people contribute time to how well one can heal. If I tell people "my husband died," they say they're sorry with the most pity their lying selves can muster. But, if I say the same thing and add that he died five years ago, the response may as well be a shrug. People think time is the magical elixir for everything. The more there is between the present and an event of the past, the lesser the pain. 

It's ridiculous.

But that's what happened.

Alexei and I were out, exploring an area behind Rusalka Drive--our home. We'd left all the boxes of clothes and dishes unpacked in the kitchen and living room, overwhelmed by the task of finding everything a home. The only decorations--if they could be called that-- in the small house were the multitude of cards and letters we put across the table the old owners left us.

Originally, we had full intention of getting moved in as fast as possible. I'd opened up some of the boxes and started to take out old pictures and clothes, but stopped as soon as I realized there was nowhere to put the things until we had the furniture set right.

My hands clenched around an empty frame, I looked at Alexei, whose mouth hung open just enough that a fly landed on his bottom lip. He recoiled and slapped at the spot, but the bug was already gone.

He stared at me with a sort of pity, then said in a sort of whispery voice, "Outside is wonderful this time of year."

A laugh forced its way from my lips. Overwhelmed was an understatement for both of us, apparently.

When we went outside, the first thing I noticed was the eerie silence from the world. It had been Alexei's idea to move from an apartment in the middle of the city to a location that resembled a swamp. 

Although..."swamp" wasn't really the right word. There was no marsh. No wet or even mushy ground. The air was as far away from the heavy dampness as it could be and instead was clean and clear with the smallest hint of flowers. Moss-covered trees were scattered all around the place, but sunlight still broke through the leaves to kiss the ground. 

The best part-- the part that drew us both to the house-- was the little bit of ocean that sat behind the trees. It was crystal clear and sparkled like a gem when the sunbeams hit it, with a bench that seemed to be made just wide enough Alexei and I could sit on it and feel the air as it blew past. It never felt like part of the sea to us, but more of a private little pond or cove. 

That's where we went to escape the madness of the house. The bench. That particular day the clouds had covered the sky in a grey blanket, yet the waters still managed to find a way to shine in the absence of light. 

I've no idea how long we were there, talking. It was about nothing important, only little ideas and topics each of us thought would be fun to laugh about. Movies, books, maybe one day owing a store that sold antiques and trinkets some would believe to be junk. 

Eventually, we fell silent, watching a group of birds swoop toward the water and move away at the last minute. The sky had darkened to where glimpses of the moon could barely be made out through the clouds. After slapping away what felt like the millionth mosquito, I stood and poked Alexei's shoulder. 

"We ought to go back and face the madness."

He grabbed my hand. "What, afraid of the bugs more than the mess, Zhenya?"

"Well, you know, the blood-sucking monsters make their way out at night," I laughed. "We need to watch out or a vampire will come eat us up!"

He nudged my shoulder. "Very funny."

We made our way back to the house, and as we got closer we paused and turned to face the sea once more. 

Alexei sucked in a harsh breath and grasped my hand to the point it was numb. With his free arm, he pointed toward the area we had just left. 

"Zhenya." 

Down at the water was a woman wearing a white dress that flowed through the air as if there was a breeze. Her hair was long and a dull red that somehow made its way through the darkness. She stood at the edge, past the bench and more toward the quiet, lapping waves. 

Seeing someone wasn't the problem. There were other houses and families beside us, but far enough away there was no crowding or fight for space. The only time we'd seen a neighbor was as we had gone outside while viewing the place. The real estate agent waved at the person--a woman with dull red hair who stood near the edge of the water, but the other hadn't responded.   

I pulled my husband's arm. It had to be the woman from before, but what she was doing... whatever it was, I didn't want to know. About to conduct a ritual, from the looks of it. 

"Let's go."

He didn't move, gaze transfixed on the girl. His face had turned blank,  lips slightly parted, eyes-- eyes empty and for a moment, just a moment, I could have sworn the brown was a blue the color of muddy water. 

"Alexei?" My hand brushed against his. At the lighter touch he jumped, then stared down at me. 

"Yeah," he mumbled. "Let's go."

**********

The days passed easily in the house. Eventually, it seemed like the strangeness of the red-haired woman had faded from our minds. There were times when we sat at the water I couldn't help the feeling of unease, like there was someone watching. Once, when we were near the edge, I could have sworn I saw a pair of eyes staring me down, daring me to come closer.

Life at in the house was as normal as ever. Once in a while I'd catch Alexei gazing out to the sea and we would pack a lunch and go to water, if it was daylight. He seemed to stare outside at night more often than not, although the one time I asked him about it he swore I was imagining things.

One day, when he had left for groceries, I went out on a walk. Part of it was a simple need to get out and move, but another part of me wanted to see just how many lived near us. When looking up the address online, the map showed at least four other homes, but where they were and if all were occupied was another question entirely. 

It wasn't very long before the first of the "mystery" houses came into view. From the distance between it and the water--which was about three hundred feet--I could very easily see what looked to be fallen boards and broken windows. The path that went from the house to the sea was covered in vines and overgrown weeds. 

"No one's lived there for years now."

A few words of the swearing variety flew from my mouth as I turned. A woman with long graying hair and a wrinkled, sunken face stood beside me, her vacant gaze focused on the old place. 

Unperturbed by my curses, the woman pointed a quaking finger at the house. "You know the story, don't you?"

I shook my head. Every part of me screamed to run.

The woman made a noise, like a cross between a sigh and a hum. "A few years ago, a newlywed couple moved in there. They seemed happy alright, but one day..." She lowered her eyes and stared at the ground. "One day the husband ran into the sea and never came back up."

My mind flashed to the times Alexei had stared at the water in a type of trance. His mind seemed focused on it, ever since we'd seen the girl.

I swallowed and turned toward the ocean. "And the wife?"

"She tried to save him... and was lost to the waves."

Both drowned.

A breeze blew past that made the hairs on my arm stand on end. The world had become too silent again; the only sound was waves lapping against the shore and my own ragged breaths.

"What caused it?" I turned to the woman again.

Except, there wasn't one. She was gone, almost as if she'd never been there.

A bird cawed from one of the trees. With the sound, I swallowed my nerves and ran back home.

**********

Later that night, I awoke to a shatter of glass.

At first, what the noise was didn't dawn on me. It could have been a crash of far-off thunder and the reaction would have been the same.

Heart in my throat, I moved to brush my hand against Alexei's shoulder, but it only found the warm indent of where his body had been.

Gone.

"Zhenya!"

The scream cut through any piece of doubt left and shot through my body like a bolt of lightning. Without thinking, without grabbing a thing, I was out of the bed and flying down the stairs.

As soon as my feet hit the downstairs floor, the cries stopped. Silence as heavy as death fell on the world.

I paused, hand on the door to the living room. Silence meant waiting. Whoever had caused Alexei to scream could be waiting. Barging in wouldn't help.

Call the police.

Except there were no landlines in the hallway and we'd each left our cell phones in the living room.

There were no options.

As carefully as I could, I pushed open the door. Shards of glass cracked as they were pulled across the ground. Small droplets of a dark liquid covered over other pieces and trailed to outside.

Heart pounding, I shuffled over to the table where the cell phone was and picked it up. The screen was broken, the lights flickering as the device tried to turn on. The cable to the landline was sliced and frayed to where there was no hope in even trying.

We were without help.

All of the sudden, a flash of light from outside caught my eyes. I whipped toward it, moved toward the door. Pieces of broken glass stabbed my feet, but the pain wouldn't process.

Standing at the edge of the water was Alexei, his arms reaching out toward a light hovering over the waves. Dark red stained his shirt, covered his neck and legs. His mouth was wide open in a yell, but no sound came from it.

Unable to stop, I ran out the door. "Alexei!"

The husband drowned.

He took a step to the water, his toes covered by the waves.

"Stop!" Fire ran through my feet as the glass got stuck farther with each step. I went over broken branches, over jagged rocks, over weeds that covered the walkway that had been clear that afternoon.

With each step I took, Alexei was under more water.

The light over the waves came into focus the nearer I got. Instead of it being a formless shape, it turned into the image of a woman. Her mouth was open, with cool, damp air coming from the place. Her red hair flew around her face, tangled up around her neck like a noose. She reached to Alexei -- Alexei who had everything but one hand reaching toward the heavens under the water.

All of the sudden, I stopped, frozen by some force. Pressure held my foot to the ground, pressure like a hand. I yanked at it, pulled so it could be free,  so I could get to the water to stop what was happening.

The older woman's face from earlier rose from the ground. Her lips were cracked, her skin bloated. One of her eyes was out of its socket, pieces of it eaten away by the insects that formed from nowhere.

She began to speak, her voice raspy and faint. "There is no saving him. It wants both of you."

Only the tips of Alexei's fingers broken the surface of the water. The creature over the water snapped its head in my direction.

"Run while you can, lest you become me."

With that, the woman who held my ankle opened her mouth, let it dangle to where the jaw touched her chin. Black water trickled from the sides, followed by a swarm of insects that crawled over her face.

The pressure on my ankle gone, I yelped, scrambling away from the thing. The creature that took Alexei hovered closer, moving up the steps.

With one last glance at the waves, I ran back toward the house. Every vine and weed seemed to grab at my feet, trying to stop me, but failing as they were crushed. My home, which had been as perfect as it could have been, changed the closer I got. The boards on the side fell off, some dangling, the paint weathered and gone. Windows were cracked and busted, spiders' webs made their place in the edges and the corners.

It was gone, not even an echo of what it had been.

The walkway never seemed to end. Each glance behind me only showed the creature getting closer, and the house getting farther.

Even if I reached the house, what could I do? Hide? The phones were down. There were no people in existence.

It was just me.

Just as a hand with water dripping from it grabbed my wrist and yanked backward, my fingertips brushed the doorknob.

Too late, they brushed the doorknob.

The creature dragged me backward, back to the sea, back to where Alexei had gone. Its grip was paralyzing, stopping my movements, my thoughts--everything but my fear.

My legs touched the water, then my arms and head. The creature became as slick as glass the moment everything covered my head. Its hands allowed my body to slip from it, still frozen, and drift out as the waves took me.

You will become like me.

My chest tightened, not with terror, but with the air that wanted out and needed in. My heartbeat drummed in my head, pounded against my skull.

There red haired woman came closer, mouth open, teeth bared. They weren't pointy, but were blunt like the ones I had.

She turned me around, to face away from her and toward the emptiness of the sea. There was no struggling. I couldn't. Whatever she'd done, it stayed.

The swimming in my head stopped. Another creature drifted in front of me, but not like the other. The legs on this one were bleeding, with chunks of flesh torn out of them. The hair was short, dark.

It was no woman.

Alexei's empty stare was what I saw before she started on me.

**********

They say time heals all wounds.

I say what's dead doesn't heal. What's dead waits. It warns.

It fails. It suffers.

People come and go. Husbands, wives. They fall into the trap of the sea. The story is always the same.

Time gives no warning. No matter how much I try, they always end the same way I did. The same way Alexei did.

The same way countless others did.

I give the story to those who will listen. Try to make them see their mistake. They react the same as I did, years ago. I can't blame them. It sounds crazy to me too.

No. If times heals all wounds, her victims should be angels by now.

But here we rot, under the surface of the waves.