The Keller Legacy (Rewrite)

Prologue

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The crashing waves and the squawk of seagulls resounded in a discordant cacophony. They were the only source of sound for miles. Sunrise has just passed in the last hour, bright enough to warm and wake anyone exposed to it.

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"Ungh..." The light shone through her eyes, waking her up from her deep slumber, the warmth soothing just a little bit of the pain coursing through her body. The pain was too much, try as she might, but because of her hurting, she couldn't get up at all. A deafening boom and blinding flash, and then...she's here flat on her a$s down for the count. The sound of the sea permeates through her, and she can't help but be roused. Water...there shouldn't be any water for miles around, not outside of pipes or bottles anyway, is what she's thinking. She didn't know why, but she just knew she shouldn't hear water.

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Finally having enough of just tanning from the sun while feeling like she was steamrolled, she held down her hand, retracting it right away when she felt the cold. 'Frost...frost melt? I can hear the sea and feel the cold.' Sucking in her pain with a hiss, she pushed on her hands and forced herself slowly to at least sit, drawing blood from her lip as she bit it.

A weakened constitution never did anyone good. Survival was important; it was priority. "Stay alert, stay alive," comes to mind in a gentle, masculine voice beckoning inside her head; who was that? "Agh...hurts..." Stopping the bile from rising past her throat, she forced herself up, screaming out from the intense pain no one but her could hear. It was still early, thankfully. If she was going to empty her stomach, she needed to at least do it at the sea. At last, she opened her eyes.

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The bright reflection made her step back and she nearly fell over, but managed to steady herself at the last step before dropping from the pier. "D@mn it!" Unable to adjust, she squinted and took a glance at her surroundings while struggling to maintain her balance. "Where...am I?" Just over the horizon, she could barely make out an island and a tower. A lighthouse? Once again, a gentle, affectionate voice rang those words between her ears. "Stay alert, stay alive." 'It's too far, and in my condition, I'd sooner faint and drift to sea before I make it even if I hijack a boat.'

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"Ah...hello? Ahoy? Anybody? Please...help me," she pleaded coarsely, panting in uneven breathes as she clutched at her body for self-support. No one could hear. Her throat was raw and aching, just like the rest of her, but she needed help. 'Turn back and walk, I need to walk and find help, somebody please help me,' her mind dictated. Common sense was her only tool of survival, a last light of hope when she didn't even have any idea where she was, what she was doing, or anything at all. She needed to find help first and foremost.

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Finally, she managed to walk herself to where she could hear cars occasionally pass by, a road in this snowy place. After a bit more walking, she was dismayed to find it was an elevated road, and while she heard more cars that pass, she doubted anyone would hear her shouting for help with the state her voice is in already, and her body begged for mercy not to climb anymore. It was too steep and inaccessible. Continuing on the white-laden path, every step caused excruciating pain, but with each one taken, fleeting scenes flashed in her head, but too vague to make any sense or even register what they were at all, her only source of relief was the underpass that seemed to lead somewhere.

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Her feet led her eventually to a library, if that sign she could barely see was any indication, with a rather small tower as if a complement structure to the lighthouse she saw across the sea. Common sense led her to believe that she would benefit more finding help from police, but she didn't know where their station was, so a public library was the next best thing to civil services.

She wanted to scream for help the moment she stepped inside, but the soreness of her throat stopped that, and the pain her body was wracking in begged for mercy, for self-preservation and sweet relief. Traipsing her way into the restroom, she held herself steady, a feat she struggled with, before finally touching the rim of the sink, with a lift of her head to see a hideous sight.

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The upper half of her face had splotches of damaged skin, her eyes once a vivid blue color as they once were as far as she could pull from her vague memories, were bloodshot all over the sclera, the irises the hue of cornflowers drowned in cranerlet nectar, and her hair a disgusting white shade that not even an old crone would dare to be seen with. The shock of the sight of her was so great, her head ached with intensity as she remembered her last words before she woke up.

"Ruskowitz, what have you done?"