Who the Fk Are You?

Havermouth, Present Day

Aislen watched the water flow around her feet, swirling over the paving stones and tarmac of the main street of Havermouth, ripples casting shadows through the water that looked like screaming faces. She walked through the water, bewildered, feeling its cold drag against her legs, and its weight tugging down the fabric of her dress and sticking it to her skin.

The traffic on the street had stopped, cars like islands in the flowing water, and pedestrians came to a standstill, everyone turning towards the river in astonishment.

Where had the water come from?

Something brushed against Aislen’s leg, and she looked down and cried out in horror as a pale, fish-nibbled face passed by, cheeks flapping in the movement of the water and eye sockets vacant, carried along in the tide of the water.

Aislen woke on the end of a jump and gripped the sheets, breathing heavily.

“Morgana,” Talen rose from the recliner and leaned over her. His hair was loose, brushing over her chee