Awakening, Page 3Mature

“I told you so.” Isabelle said over the warping sound, turning to Angelo.
“Look.” he replied, pointing to the coffin.
Isabelle turned back to where the light was shining. An indistinct figure sat up from the coffin, then slowly stood to its feet. It was tall, taller than both Isabelle and Angelo, and it was holding the wooden cross that the scarecrow had been attached to. Both Isabelle and Angelo tried to squint in order to see the figure clearly, but the bright light shining from the coffin made it nearly impossible to make out its features.
Then, just as fast as it appeared, the light faded, leaving the entire area in darkness. As Isabelle and Angelo’s eyes adjusted to the change in lighting, they saw the figure step out of the coffin and walk towards them. As it grew closer, it tossed aside the wooden cross without breaking stride. Finally, it stopped right in front of them, looking down upon both of them. As their eyes finally adjusted to the darkness, they both realized that the figure was clad in the same clothes as the scarecrow Isabelle had brought with her. An old-looking wide-brimmed hat adorned his head, which was covered in a large burlap sack. He wore a long trench coat that seemed to conform to his torso, despite the coat itself being rather large in size. Under the coat, he was wearing a shirt that was tied at the torso with a rope, and was torn at the bottom. Below that were jeans that were frayed at the bottom, and boots that seemed to have taken a beating.
“Sid Walken…” Isabelle said suddenly. It took Angelo a couple of seconds to realize she was talking to the scarecrow. “…a former police detective, and known by many as one of the most skilled policemen of his time…Found dead in 1992, over 20 years ago. You’d washed up on a beach just near a bridge connecting Torch City to Undertow…”
For a while, all was silent. The air felt heavy with tension as the two of them stood facing the scarecrow. Then…
“How do you know so much about me?” The scarecrow’s voice sounded as though his vocal cords had been sandpapered, then covered in gravel. “And more importantly, if I died when you say I did…then why am I here?”
“You were all over the papers when they found you.” Isabelle said to him. “There are very few people who didn‘t know your name back then. I remember the funeral they had for you that year. A lot of people were there…”
“That doesn‘t answer my second question.” the scarecrow said to Isabelle. “I‘ll ask again. If I died all those years ago, what am I doing here right now?”
“We brought you back.” Angelo cut in. The scarecrow turned to him, making him step back a little.
When the scarecrow didn’t respond, Angelo continued. “Yes, Sid. We brought you back to life. That‘s why you‘re here.”
“You…brought me back?” Sid asked. “Quit pulling my leg. Give me a real explanation.”
Angelo opened his mouth to speak, but Isabelle‘s words came out first. “I think I can show you something that will convince you more than words ever will.”
Sid’s gaze moved to Isabelle. “Do it, then. What‘ve you got?”
Isabelle held up her right hand. Most of the blood on her hand had dried, but her wrist was still bleeding slightly. She closed her eyes, concentrating. As she did, the scarecrow tilted his head, studying her hand. Then, slowly, all of the blood on her hand began to seep back into the cut on her wrist. Once all the blood had made its way back into her wrist, the flesh in her cut began to knit itself back together until the cut was completely gone.

The End

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