CHAPTER ONE: AVERY'S POV
I should be dead. The last thing I heard and saw was a blue light and a bang… And then… Nothing. No feeling, no motion, absolutely nothing. Until now. Now I can feel again.. And I feel… Cold.
I sit up quickly, noting the fact that my vision is still extremely blurry, I begin to panic and free my eyes of snow to look around. All I can see is white… blizzard maybe? Cautiously, I open my eyes fully and begin to stand up. All I can begin to make out is a sign reading, "Purgatory, Only 7 Away!"
Purgatory, my home. Where I was born. Where I loved. Where I fought. Where I died.
Slowly, I pull myself to my feet and I begin trudging through the thick snow while following the dirt road away from the sign. Seconds turn into minutes, and minutes turn into painful hours. My legs are on fire, and my shoulders are too. Noting this pain, I place my hand on my back and feel shockwaves of agony cascade down my back.
'AGH!" I scream as I fall to my knees, the pain lingers in the base of my neck and the tops of my arms. My vision quickly blurs to white again.
I need to find shelter. I need warmth.
A loud creaking noise drew me back to reality. I turn to face the noise, a windmill! And a house!
I know this place, I-I've been here. When? I'm not sure.
I'm back on my feet and I start slowly making my way towards the house. A fire is visible through the windows, and lights are on in the living area. I pass a mailbox, but I don't have the energy to look and see what's written on it. I bring myself to walk up the stairs to the door. Obviously, I was a little louder with my steps than I had intended, because a voice from inside calls out,
"Waves, I swear to god if this visitor is another one of those damn singing telegrams…"
The door opens with a wave of vanilla. The inside of the house smells like vanilla and feels better than a warm Purgatory summer.
I'm gonna whoop your…"
And before the brunette could finish her sentence, I succumbed to the warm and dizzying allure of sleep and slumped into her arms.
"At least she's not a revenant." comes another female voice that's much softer than the last.
"At least she's not a singing telegram, right?" Echoes the first voice.
WYNONNA'S POV
"Thank God it's Friday!" I yell as I clink glasses with Nicole and Waverly. It's been a long ass week, and we deserve our *spiked* hot chocolates that they both agreed that I could make. Honestly, mine was just a cup of Jack in a mug.
"I can toast to that fact!" Nicole replies to my toast as she thrusts her Purgatory Sheriff's Department mug toward mine.
Waverly's mug soon follows the redheaded officer's mug up to mine.
"Ditto." She says.
We all sit in silence as we sip our drinks. October in Purgatory is way colder than it should be.
Since when is anything in the Ghost River Triangle normal? Oh yeah... It's not.
It's been about an hour since we all sat down to enjoy our drinks. Waverly's small frame has found a spot on the chaise, perfectly fitting into the space Nicole left.
Blech, they make the notebook look bleak.
Suddenly, I see Nicole's red hair flip around to face the door.
"What was that?" the redheaded officer asked.
"What? I didn't…" Waverly began.
THUMP… THUMP… Someone is coming up the porch steps. Oh god…
"Waves, I swear to god if this visitor is another one of those damn singing telegrams…"
I get up and head towards the door. It's dark outside, and Doc has installed a privacy curtain over the glass pane of the door, so I couldn't see out of it. I begin to open the door.
"I'm gonna whoop your…"
What the h…
All I see before she falls into my arms are two brown eyes that are full of exhaustion and pain. The girl, no older than 23, falls into my arms. I rush to catch her full bodyweight in my arms.
"At least she's not a revenant." Waverly chimes in from behind me.
"At least she's not a singing telegram, right?" I quip back at her.
Nicole rushes over to help me grab onto her shoulders to hoist her unconscious body onto the couch where Nicole and Waverly were sitting just seconds ago.
"Shit!" Nicole calls out as she backs quickly away from the young woman's body
"Baby! What is it?" Waverly cries as she rushes away from my side and towards her girlfriend.
"She's bleeding… badly." The cop replies, turning her hands over to show the brunette her blood covered palms.
She turns to me and says,
"Wynonna. I need you to go grab my first aid kit from Waverly's room. It's under the left side of the bed."
First aid kit. Blood. Stop bleeding. Wait… Where's she bleeding from?
"I'm not sure about that too, Wynonna. Waverly, I need scissors to cut her shirt. Hurry!" Nicole says with panic in her voice
Shoot. I must have said that last thought out loud. It's the whiskey talking.
Waverly runs to the kitchen and grabs a pair of black scissors from the drawer. She hands them to Nicole, who in the meantime has turned the woman over onto her stomach making sure she could still breathe. She makes quick work of cutting the back of the thick shirt the unconscious blonde is wearing.
"What the hell?"
Is all I hear come out of Nicole's mouth.
"What.. What's going on?" I say
Nicole turns to me and moves away from the woman.
"Look. At her back." She hesitates, "there's no blood… Just… a lot of scars."
And right at that moment, the woman woke up...