With Flood She Comes

Martha disliked the factory from the day she came for the job interview. Since that day, every time she crossed the gate and entered the factory compound, she felt strong uneasiness and discomfort.

On the first Friday in May her anxiety was stronger than ever before. Perhaps because of the miserable, gray, persistent rain that had been pouring ceaselessly for the past few days. Or because of a dream she had the night before, and which, like troubling premonition, remained as darkness around her heart.

For the good part of the morning she was sitting in the office, trying to calm down and concentrate on job, but her eyes were constantly turning towards the window, where the thin jets of water formed serpentine patterns on the glass.

Her thoughts than drifted back to the river which ran through the city and which, during the previous evening, overflowed its banks. Continuous rain has made flood waters grow faster than anybody expected. She shivered involuntarily remembering the dream from the last night. The dream in which the muddy waters were drugging her daughter away.

She knew she should not worry about Nikka. She was far from the river, on the hill. She was in the house of Martha’s parents, and was safe. Still, she felt troubled.

In fact, the factory was endangered. Flood waters have already swamped a piece of the factory’s compound on the eastern side. Production was suspended and most of the workers sent home. Only the administration building was alive. Flooding began amid monthly calculations and the owner was not ready to allow delays. So, the administration workers, instead of going home, were sitting in the building that was like an island of light in the omnipresent gray. They were adding up, calculating, drafting reports and making graph presentations.

All except her.

Martha sighed and forced herself to focus on the monthly attendance sheets and salary calculation. Rows of names and numbers have finally started to make sense and soon she discovered discrepancies in the monthly attendance sheets, submitted by the production department. They were always making mistakes and she had enough of correcting the other people's errors.

She reached for the phone and dialed up the number of the production director. Soon she was immersed in a discussion with him, totally unaware that during the previous night, the flood waters have found the underground watercourses and filled up half of the basement beneath her feet.

While she spoke, the surface of water in the basement stirred, and something sluggish, emotionless and ominous pierced the murky surface. Something that heard Martha’s voice and remained focuses on it. Something that examined her computer, a series of documents, emails and pictures. Something that kept its attention on the photographs of her family.
Lunch in the factory canteen was barely eatable, but she enjoyed a half-hour break and small talks with colleagues, so she returned to the office much calmer and in a lot better mood than that morning.

Martha sat down at her desk with intention to continue with salary calculation. She typed password to log in and when the screen of her computer revived, in the lower right corner of the screen she saw a notice of received Intranet message. During the morning, she had sent several requests and questions to department managers, so she expected to find a replay from some of them. Or it could be a private message from a colleague. She clicked on it.

Instead of remaining in the lower right corner, the messages spread over the entire screen. Martha gasped, seeing at the screen an image of muddy water that rippled under the shadowy illumination. No, no, that was not an image. The water was alive, as if she was watching a video clip. Her heart skipped a beat, then began to pound rapidly.
Without warning a face emerged from the water; the face covered with long, dark hair from which the water was dripping. The face resembling Nikka’s, except for the dull eyes and rigid, bluish lips.

- I want you to be my mommy.

The voice was a whisper, a cold breath which made her body numb, frozen in the silent horror, while the darkness was spreading through the office. The entire world shrank, living her eyes fixed at the creature behind the screen. Then, the hand slowly moved towards her. It went through the screen glass as easily as it would pass through the surface of water. It touched Martha’s face. Cold, bitterly cold.

Unable to move, unable to squeeze voice through the blocked throat, paralyzed by a hint of death and decay that was leaving the wet, slimy track on her face, Martha sat silently and watched the face in the screen.
The creature changed unexpectedly, before her eyes. Girl’s blue dress become clean and shiny. Her hair was now dry and tidy, the face calm, dear and known. The hand on Martha’s face soft and worm.

- Nikka.

Girl smiled, pulled her hand back and began to move away, as if sinking. The whole image on the screen was becoming smaller and smaller, revealing gradually the well, which vertical walls looked so high and the girl on the bottom so far away.

The dirty water was rising, slowly engulfing girl’s body.
Martha couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t do anything, but helplessly watch her child being pulled into the deep darkness of the bottomless well.

- Mommy, come with me - said Nikka with a sweet voice.

Martha made her way through the layers of horror, took a deep breath of cold, dark air that she felt like being wrapped in. And she managed to scream, strongly, desperately; summarizing the scream in a single word.

- No - she yelled.

Colleagues who had rushed from neighboring offices have found her sitting in the chair. Motionless; her face covered in cold sweat. The computer screen on her desk was blinking evenly, showing the attendance sheet template that she was working on.

She was not aware of colleagues who were calling her name or director who came into the office and ordered them to call an ambulance.

She was not aware of doctor's questions, nor was she aware of conversation that took place around it.
She was not aware of the sedative she had received before the ambulance drove her home.

None of those who entered Martha's office that afternoon was aware of the thin stream of water that dripped from the screen, making dark pond on the smooth desk surface.

* + -

That night, when the girl come to her dream, still paralyzed by sedatives, she was not able either to move or to call for help.

- I want you to be my mother - blue lips spoke softly to her.
She wanted to run away from this whisper that was filled with darkness, smell of mold and fear. And she couldn’t.

- Never - she wanted to scream, but her voice was weak and her throat sore, as if abraded by sand.

- Mommy – it was again Nikka, standing before her.

- Never, do you hear me. Never. Go away from me you monster.

Nikka's face flickered. Once again it was covered by wet, lifeless hair. Once again, the eyes looking at Martha were dull and lips lifelessly blue. The smell of the swamp became unbearable, sickly sweet. She felt nauseous.

- In seven days, I will come after you. Then you will be mine.

The voice faded, the images disappeared and Martha gratefully sank back into darkness, into a dreamless sleep.

* + -

Next morning, she was awakened by the warm sun rays. She stretched lazily, looked at the clock and realized that she had a plenty of time to shower, drink coffee and get to work.

Colleagues and director welcomed her back. Having already the huge workloads, they were happy that they didn’t need to additionally work on her tasks. So, nobody mentioned the event of the previous day. Life come back to normal and Martha was soon occupied by her duties.

Nikka remained at her parents, as was the case every month, during calculation period, when Martha had to work long hours. Most of the time, according to Martha's mother, Nikka spent playing a video game that Martha had sent her on the day she suffered the nervous breakdown, and she obviously adored the game.

For a moment Martha felt the sting of worry, since she could not remember sending the video game to her daughter, but quickly suppressed the feeling. Anyway, the memory of that day was dull and gloomy, and she didn’t want to bother anyone with her memory loss.

On Friday morning, after she finished calculations and posting, the security man announced the visit of a former worker, who needed copies of his financial documents. Task was easy and such documents she was preparing often.

Until she heard what period was in question.

All documentation for that period have been archived, and the archive was in one of the oldest buildings of the factory, on the floor above the storage of raw and auxiliary materials.

From the very first time she was taken there and shown the place, Martha felt strong anxiety. While the storage beneath was renovated, the floor of archive was a huge, gloomy area where the air was filled with the smell of dust and the original timber was dark and rotting.

The feeling of uneasiness engulfed her already while she was climbing the wooden staircase, heading for the archive floor. Reaching the top of the staircase and stepping into the archive area, she was ready to hear crackling of the old wooden floor.

Instead she stepped into the ankle-deep water.

The fear, primal, timeless, paralyzing fear burned every nerve in her body and she remained frozen, unable to move, unable to breathe.

She was not surprised when she saw how in the center of the room, until than the calm surface of the water rippled. She was not surprised when the hunched silhouette peeked out of the water and when it began to rise, when the face covered with streaks of a long, wet hair appeared before her. When the dark, dead eyes looked straight into her. When the blue lips smiled at her. Evil, malicious smile that mocked her. That mocked her helplessness.

- I said I'll return in seven days mother.

For a moment fear was gone. It was transformed to anger.

- Go away you monster - she screamed. - I'm not your mother and I will never be.

Blue lips curled into an even wider, disturbing smile and in the dead eyes something threatening sparked.

- Then I will not insist any more - she said.

Martha felt a rush of illusory hope.

- That game that Nikka plays.

Hope was gone.

- The one she got from you, seven days ago – her voice little, delusive.

- No – she said, but she knew the truth.

- Samara and Nikka are now sisters.

- You're lying creep. You're lying.

As in answer the water surface rippled once again and the girl in the long blue dress stood up. Her face illuminated with gentle smile.

- Samara and Nikka are now sisters - she repeated watching Nikka. – We do not need mommy any more. Mommies are bad. Mommies are killing they children.

Samara took Nikka by hand and pulled her to the middle of the room, where swirl was forming around their feet, becoming stronger and faster, taking them down, to the shadowy world of waters. And all this time she was listening Martha’s desperate screams with sinister, vile smile.

Than all was gone: Nikka, Samara and water.

Martha was standing in the dusty storage, while darkness was growing inside her. Darkness that will explode in a scream that will forever remain frozen on her lips. The scream that will forever testify about how she betrayed her daughter and left her helpless in the hands of evil.

*Written by Lilly Garnet

Content is available under CC BY-SA*