#char rose

The dirt in her mouth was bitter and she could hear each grain rub against her teeth. She clenched her jaw as she thrust her hand once more through the darkness. The light, although dim, broke through the abyss. She panted, frantically taking breaths before she screamed loud enough to conjure the last bit of strength inside of her. She felt the dirt fall away around her, and she wiped away more of it from her eyes.

She was surrounded by numerous tombstones, and the dim source of light came from the church she recognized at once. As memories flooded her, her hand sprang towards her neck to check her most recent wound -- except it was gone. It was replaced by impossibly smooth skin, almost like the carved marble of a renaissance sculpture. 

Her body was shaking and unstable, but she willed herself to stand. The last of the dirt fell away as she stood and began to walk towards the church. A faint footstep stopped her in her tracks. “Who’s there?” she hissed.

“Daughter of mine,” an unfamiliar voice began, “You no longer belong with the living.”

Rose turned around towards the voice in the shadows. She could not see the woman’s face. It was hidden by the shade cast by her large-brimmed hat. “They will plot your demise. Neither you nor they are the same, therefore nothing is as it was.” 

Rose burrowed her eyebrows. The way this woman was talking annoyed her more than her ominous warning. She pushed aside her impatience with the stranger and instead asked, “What’s different about me?”

“Ya ain’t human for starters,” chuckled another stranger. “Any chance you’ll come with us without a fuss? I’m mighty tired today.” The hooded stranger moved forward into clearer view.

It felt like a mistake. She was taught to stay away from folks like them. Her old self was already running towards the church, her safe place, but her feet were anchored where they were.

“Tell me your names,” Rose demanded. Her own assertive tone surprised her, and it mismatched the way her guts seemed to twist and jerk in anxiousness.

The hooded man shed the hood of his jacket and held out his hand. “Clemence,” he nodded with a sinister smile.

“Constantine,” the older woman answered behind Clemence. She didn’t offer a hand, but she did remove her hat.

The two strangers looked normal, plain even. Rose shook Clemence’s hand.

“I s’pose... there ain’t no point in askin’ who you are,” Clemence added with a slight chuckle, “--only b’cause we saw which grave you climbed out of.”

Rose blinked in reply. “You’ve been waiting on me then?”

Constantine nodded. She pointed to a car in the distance. “We must leave. We do not have long before the hours until sunrise threaten your safety.”

Rose considered all of the suspicious things the two had said since they met only a few minutes ago. “Daughter of mine” or the way they had known she’d climb out of the grave she’d been buried in. It was like they had planned all of this. She had no idea if she could trust them, and she also had no idea what Constantine meant by “threaten your safety”... She knew she could trust her church and her family, but they had buried her like she was dead. They were unlikely to welcome her home...