“AHH!” Unlike her family members, Stacy did not wake up peacefully at all, shooting up into a sitting position, looking around in worry and fear.

Again, unlike her family members, she was well aware of what happened before she woke up…

“Oh God, oh God, didn’t I…” Stacy began grabbing at her arms, and her sides, surprisingly feeling no pain beyond the sore back of sleeping on the floor…

The floor…?

Moving into a standing position Stacy looked around in confusion.

As mentioned, she was well aware of what happened before she ‘fell asleep’ and she recalled the truck knocking them over, and the sign when leaving Sanguine.

You can’t leave Sanguine. You will stay.

“What the fuck happened…” Stacy managed to curse out a bit more as she looked around, taking in her surroundings.

For one, there was grass, trees, and what might have been a lake.

The reason it was mentioned as ‘might have been’ was because water had no right being a deep crimson, smelling faintly of iron and rot, and- oh who was she kidding it was blood.

After finding a moment to puke her guts out, Stacy looked to the ‘lake’ again, just to be sure that she was truly ‘seeing’ what she was looking at.

And yes, it was still a massive lake of blood.

“I’d steer clear of the edge if I was you.” Stacy leapt back from the source of the voice on instinct… it was the same instinct that told you to step away from the bars to the lion’s cage in a zoo.

I might die if I’m too close.

Looking at the source of the voice, Stacy was immediately on guard…

Mike found the best in people, uncaring for how they looked, and instead focusing on how they acted, it was why he would be capable of talking to the Sheriff despite how clearly dangerous the Sheriff was.

Oliver on the other hand didn’t care for others except himself, if there was any care for others it was only because their wellbeing affected his own in some ways (at least this was how Stacy rationalized it) and he’d ignore oddities without care.

Stacy was a paranoid person, she’d always be slightly cautious of someone, no matter who they were. Seeing clearly dangerous people got her worried, strange behaviour was similar.

In other words, between the three members of the Cole family, Stacy was the only one with the mentality to question and fear.

So she very quickly decided to fear the source of the strange lilting voice, the source being an old man with bandages wrapped over his eyes, a fishing rod in hand.

“…” Stacy wouldn’t speak first, instead waiting on the actions of the Fisherman to respond, unwilling to put herself out there so to speak.

“A cautious one… Ah… I can smell the scent of the spider on you. No wonder.” The Fisherman spoke with a dry chuckle, idly reeling in the fish-hook, revealing nothing had bitten the thing…

Probably because there was no bait on it. Probably because he was fishing in blood. Probably because a fish-hook had no business having a pair of eyes on it, blinking and staring with bloodshot glares as the blood of the lake slowly dripped off of it.

All of the above were good reasons for why nothing bit the thing.

“Smell a spider… that’s a creepy thing to notice.” Stacy said, still weary, not daring to get within a certain range of the Fisherman, recognizing that range as the limit of the fishing rod’s reach.

“That’s a subjective thing. You think it’s ‘creepy’ and I think that it’s logical and obvious. So let’s agree to disagree.” The Fisherman said, tossing out the hook into the lake of blood with practiced ease.

“Alright… could you tell me where I am please?” Stacy asked, making sure to speak respectfully…

If there was one thing she picked up from living with Oliver, it was that politeness was a requirement in life at some points.

“You are at the Deep Lake, in the town of Sanguine. I found you inside the lake, and I managed to fish you out.” The Fisherman added, making Stacy once more feel the urge to vomit out all of her issues…

She was inside a pool of blood…

“That… is disgusting… but thank you for your help.” Stacy said, and the moments the words left her lips was the Fisherman oddly still.

“Hm… the smell of the spider, cautious, but not cautious enough it seems… as a friend of the spider, let me warn you, do not thank people like me for our help. We’ll hold you to that thanks.” The Fisherman turned, looking to Stacy with a bandaged stare.

In spite of those wraps, Stacy felt as if she was being stared at like a piece of meat on display at the butcher.

“I see… so me thanking you means that I acknowledge your help, and that I need to help you?” Stacy was no idiot.

Potential drop out she may be, the causes for that situation did not include a lack of intelligence, if anything, her higher than average marks spat in the idea of a problem child being incapable mentally.

Stacy had bouts of depression, anger, anxiety, and occasionally some mix of the aforementioned things, and that was the reason she had always gotten into trouble.

“Yes. No matter what, never acknowledge that you needed help. You won’t survive long in Sanguine if you owe a lot of favours to Founders like myself.” The Fisherman’s line suddenly went taut.

Immediately Stacy recalled the warning, and ran away from the edge of the ‘water’ and turned to see what the Fisherman could possibly have caught in a lake of blood.

When the Fisherman flicked his arms up, revealing the thing caught on the line, Stacy’s mind blanked.

At first, for just a moment, she tried to reason with herself… she tried to believe that she was just looking at a really large bass or something.

That false belief was erased the moment Stacy considered one of the core things she considered true.

If you can see it in front of your eyes, it’s true. Even if you can’t explain it.

Sure, she came up with that when seeing things like one of her classmates being mounted on a desk by an older teacher for higher marks, but it held true for the majority of things…

Stacy had a bad habit of seeing things she wasn’t meant to see… it was no wonder she kept getting into trouble…

But the sheer size of this ‘fish’ made Stacy reconsider the idea of even looking at things for too long.

After all, calling the thing a fish was just like calling a Bengal Tiger a cat… basically, it was downplaying the weight of what she was seeing quite a bit.

Large, rippling scales, the colour of the blood it emerged from, frills on its ‘neck’ wide like one of those freaky lizards, seven eyes arranged asymmetrically on its large head, and somehow possessing three mouths layered under each other.

Stacy only realized the last bit because the thing was screaming in pain while the ‘hook’ was stuck in its mouth.

“He’s a big one, isn’t he? Isn’t the biggest thing in the lake though.” The Fisherman said as if it was a joke, pulling back, whiplashing the thing at the end of his hook like it weighed no more than the chair the Fisherman had originally been sitting on.

And it looked pretty light by the way… the chair, not the abomination the Fisherman dared to treat like a goldfish.

With a slam, the thing was slammed into the ground, ink-like blood erupting from its mouth as no doubt its internal organs were pulped from the impact, killing it instantly given the blood flowing down its seven eyes.

Now that it was closer, Stacy could say with certainty that the head of the thing was bigger than she was… it was larger than a car.

And the Fisherman said it was not the biggest one.

“Holy… what the hell are you?” Stacy asked, staring to the Fisherman, still not daring to get any closer after witnessing the feat of inhuman strength.

“I already said it. I’m a Founder of Sanguine… uh, I forgot my name, but everyone calls me the Fisherman. And you, dear child, are apparently a bit new to this place.” The being in the shape of a man said with a weary chuckle, creeping out Stacy even more.

“Sanguine is a place beyond the ken of man… most at least. Some, like yourself, see it for what it truly is and find it terrifying.” The Fisherman began to gut the abomination easily.

“I was like you once, a human with fears and dreams… but I began to see and then things changed… I changed. I stopped ageing, I stopped feeling… and at some point I went to sleep, and woke up as I am now.” The Fisherman turned to Stacy, removing his blindfold, terrifying Stacy even more.

“I am a monster, a disgusting being known as a Founder… the only difference between myself and this fish is that I have intelligence.” Indeed, much like the fish, the Fisherman possessed more than two eyes, and in his case there were five, two where the usual ones would be, and then three more revealed when the Fisherman removed his hat, showing his patchwork of hair and gruesome skin, the skin growing out eyes to peer through the matted hair.

The sight was enough to renew Stacy’s need to vomit, but she held it in, for fear of offending the being.

“Sanguine is a terrifying, and dangerous place… the only people capable of treating it otherwise are the ignorant and blind. Clearly, you are neither. It makes you interesting, to we Founders.” The words of the Fisherman only registered once he hid his features once more.

“After all, between a horrible truth and a lovely lie, everyone seems to pick the latter… you’re one of the few that don’t fit that group though.” The Fisherman warned, and Stacy could tell it was a warning by how the Fisherman held up the blade he used for gutting the beast.

“Yours is a pitiful existence. You have three options that I can see from here. One, you accept that Sanguine is your new home and slowly lose grip on existence. Two, you go back to the Spider and learn the truth of this place… or three.” For the third option, the Fisherman pointed to the nearby woods, a strange absence of colour permeating through the woods… that’s when Stacy saw it.

It was something different, horrifyingly alien and beyond understanding, as it moved, suddenly towering over the trees, its form hulking and monstrous, the only thing that made sense to Stacy was that it looked as if it was made of ink.

Watching it move, it flew, it crawled, it slithered, it strode upon two claws, it… willed itself from one point to the next…

Simply gazing upon it hurt the human psyche, and Stacy found an intense pain behind her eyes as she slapped her palms over them, hiding her eyes from the painful thing beyond.

“I’m surprised you actually managed to gaze upon its form for that long… but that is your third option.” The Fisherman’s words were cut for a moment by a noise…

The closest descriptor for the noise was the screams of men and women as their flesh was being peeled, but as it sounded, it warped to the sound of beasts roaring, of crumbling stone and grating bone…

Then just as suddenly it stopped, completely silent. Hesitation filled Stacy’s frame as she dared glance once more at the thing, disregarding the blood flowing from her tear ducts.

It was indeed still there, still as incomprehensible as before, seemingly changing and morphing as it existed, yet remaining in the same place, no sound hinting to its position…

Something that… alien, had no right being so silent.

“The Darkness, is what we who exist in Sanguine call it. It mauls all who step outside of Sanguine, shredding us into a state of non-existence. As powerful as I am to you, I am no more than an ant to that being. Your third option is to feed yourself to it.” The Founder was blunt, even as he seemingly ignored the distant monstrosity known as the Darkness.

“…So accept my fate in this horrifying town, find the truth, or kill myself.” Stacy offered as the Fisherman began to laugh, an eerie noise.

“Oh, poor child… dying is both the easiest, and hardest thing to do in Sanguine, depending on your view… But my personal recommendation is to go find the Spider.” The Fisherman said, pointing to a slightly hidden path.

“What about that… thing, the Darkness?” Stacy asked, notably trying not to look in the direction of the being that made her mind think about how the smell of the colour orange tasted.

“It is not capable of entering the boundaries of Sanguine. As long as you are in the vicinity you are safe from it… but not from those who live in Sanguine. Goodbye child.” The Fisherman called as Stacy walked away.

“Such a shame… that she ran into me.” The Fisherman’s smile slowly morphed, from the kindly smile into one that was notably predator-like as the being looked into the lake of blood, seeing through it and looking at the Lord of the Lake.

“There was no rule stating she should listen to my advice, or that I was entirely truthful… if she survives, she’ll have learnt a valuable lesson… if not, well, that would just be her limit, wouldn’t it?” The Fisherman spoke to the Lord of the Lake, listening intently for the reply.

“I suppose you are correct… if she is one who truly sees into Sanguine, then she should survive… if she opens her eyes.” The Fisherman once more cast out his line, and all was once more silent.

The Darkness was gone, the lake of blood once more still, and its caretaker the Fisherman was as still as the lake.

Waiting, patiently… for the results of his ‘advice’ to be seen.