Rising From the Grave

The night was dark and cold, the oak trees bare of leaves in the winter chill as snow caked heavily on their thick branches. The ground and lake covered in the same powdering of white that always came in the midwinter months.

All was quiet and still even as the snow above the lake began to shift, the once even plain beginning to mound up and spread. As the snow fell away a form began to rise from the icy depths of the frozen lake.

A woman in white; skin as pale as the moonlight, chestnut hair plastered to her head and face as water rushed from her body and clothes. The woman seemed to levitate above the snow once she was free from it; her electric blue eyes wandering wildly over the scenery before her, taking in the sights as her mouth fell open.

A shrilled scream escaped her; the sound shattered the eerie silence as the sound echoed for miles beyond the snow covered lake. The cry came from her soul, the sound so broken and pained that it seemed to linger even as she disappeared.