She was surprised as the board cut into the creature, coating her arms in what could only be the creatures blood. No leach back how was that fragile. She didn't have long to think as the thing wrenched the wood about and hurled it at her. The impact knock her off her feet, he hat flying in the air and landing in the moss behind her. She tried to pull herself up as the thing turned, saw some quick movement, and then@!^&$^@!#%!^!&U^%&!$#
Her mother had always been beautiful. Fair skinned, with not a wrinkle to be found on her face. A laughing smile that could sooth a whole room of its worries. Deep black hair that flowed in the wind like the waves of the sea. It was incredible to think that a woman like that hat given birth to a...thing like her. Throughout her life Gish had always been convinced that this woman, despite the love she was showered with, could not possibly be her mother. She'd been found abandoned in some hollow log, or had grown from some tree deep in the swamp, or fairies had stolen the woman's rightful child and left her in its place. She didn't believe these things anymore. There was never a doubt that she was her mothers child, not after what had happened.
It had been a new moon when they heard the call from their modest little shack in the swamp. A deep, reverberating cry that felt like it should have shook the settings from the table. A mournful, beautiful thing. She tried to go and see, but Mother had grabbed her and pulled her into her arms, soused the lights, and carried her under the covers of the bed. Their hot food was left undisturbed the entire night, and Gish finally fell asleep listening to her the her mothers repeated, guttural prayers to her god.
Over the next few weeks her mother began to change. Not in any way that was important, but dramatically all the same. Gish felt ashamed that she was actually kind of happy as the woman turned to the color of wet ash, as her features distended and bloated like a drowned corpse, as her lips began to recede and her eyes began to widen. Her pain was obvious, though whether it was from the transformation itself or some great weight pressing down on her mind she couldn't tell.
Finally, on a night of the full moon, they heard the call again. Her mother took her and laid her in bed. She tried to speak, but by this point she couldn't manage any language that Gish could understand. Still, she made her point clear. No matter what Gish was to stay indoors. Then, giving one last look back at her progeny, she stepped out and shut the door.
Gish waited until her footsteps disappeared, then followed.
She found her mothers dress on the porch, torn and wet, and saw points of light moving out into the swamp. She crept through the dark for what felt like hours, spying on then quiet as a mouth. She saw them sometimes, by the light of their torches, creatures like mother. She heard them speaking the guttural prayer, which sounded much more natural in their voices. Sometimes she caught sight of her mothers long black hair. She followed them deeper, and deeper into the swamp. They moved around the poisoned gases that rose from the muck and stepped through the quick mud that could swallow a cow in two minutes. The predators, usually so numerous, avoided them, until at last they came to the ocean.
Gish had never seen the ocean. Her mother had described it, but the swamp where they lived was inland so she had no real idea what it looks like. Still, there it was. It must have been the ocean. In the moonlight she saw the procession moving down the shoreline, and in an instant she wanted to run out to meet them and dive into the waves. Then she heard the call again, and remembered the words of her mother. She stopped herself, and watched as the congregation returned the call in a chorus of voices. Something turned out there in the water, a shadow just below the surface, and the group made their way into the surf. She caught sight of the last in line, one with deep black hair that reflected the moonlight, and the figure turned and looked right at her. She gasped and bolted from her hiding spot, back toward the swamp.
Then she heard a rumble that she didn't remember. Something enormous breaking out of the surf. She glanced back and saw a shadow blot out the moon, dripping and bleeding a fine mist. One massive hand that seemed to cover the whole sky reached out grasp her. The god of her mother. The great beast that dwelt in the oceans and spawned all life. The hateful thing that had torn her from the arms of the only other creature on earth that loved her! As it smashed through the tops of the trees Gish knew it was hopeless to run from the horrible thing and threw herself into the mud. She felt the monsters hand slam down on her, knocking the wind from her lungs. As it dragged her through the muck back toward the sea she looked up and saw the Leech thing! It waved one tentacle in the air like like a chiding finger. She opened her mouth to call out to it, only for it to be filled with the taste of ocean salt. She spit, hacked, started to drown, was drowning, couldn't breath, could brea%$@#$%^$##%W$#$
She woke up face down in the dirt, head throbbing. Someone was touching her back. She turned quickly toward the warm feeling. "Mothe-"
The question died on her lips as she looked at the strange white figure from before. She was momentarily confused, then it came rushing back. She was in this strange cavern. "What happened?" She asked, looking around. "Where's the leech thing?"
