Episode 2

Terrified but determined, Clara climbed into the well, descending into the darkness. The whispers grew louder with each step, and the air grew colder. At the bottom, she found a cavern filled with water that glowed faintly red.

Eliza was there, standing at the edge of the pool, her back to Clara.

“Eliza!” Clara cried, running to her.

Her sister turned, but her face was wrong—her eyes were empty, her skin pale and bloated like something long drowned. “You shouldn’t have come,” Eliza said, her voice layered with other voices. “It’s awake now.”

Before Clara could respond, the water began to churn violently. The ground trembled as a massive shape rose from the pool—something ancient and grotesque, with tentacles that writhed and a face that defied comprehension.

The whispers turned into a deafening roar as the creature’s gaze fell upon Clara.Clara awoke outside the church, soaked and shivering. She couldn’t remember how she escaped, but the town was different now. The rain fell harder, the water rising faster than before. The remaining townsfolk stared at her with hollow eyes, as though they knew what she had seen.

Victor found her and pulled her into a nearby house. “You saw it, didn’t you?” he asked.

Clara nodded, trembling.

“It’s been feeding on us,” Victor said. “The rain is its blood. The more it rains, the stronger it gets. And now that you’ve been marked, it won’t stop until it has you.”

Clara looked at her hands and saw faint red veins beneath her skin, pulsing with each drop of rain.Clara knew she had to leave Greywick, but the town wouldn’t let her go. Roads disappeared, and every path she took led her back to the water. The whispers followed her, growing louder, more insistent.

As the rain rose to her chest, Clara realized the truth: the creature wasn’t just in the water—it was the water. It flowed through the town, through its people, through her.

In a desperate bid, Clara set fire to the church, hoping to destroy the well and whatever lay beneath it. The flames roared, but the rain fought back, extinguishing them before they could spread.

In the end, Clara disappeared, just like her sister. The townsfolk whispered of a woman who had tried to defy the rain, but they knew the truth: the rain always wins.

And Greywick continued to drown, drop by crimson drop.The flames in the church had flickered out, smothered by the endless rain. Clara stumbled into the streets, drenched and trembling. The whispers grew louder, swirling around her like a hurricane, each voice calling her name. She looked around, but Greywick seemed deserted. The townsfolk had vanished, leaving her utterly alone.

Her vision blurred, and the pulsing red veins beneath her skin throbbed painfully. Clara fell to her knees, clutching her head as the whispers became screams. Through the haze of pain, she realized the voices weren’t coming from outside—they were inside her mind, crawling through her thoughts like worms.

“Let me go!” she screamed, her voice breaking.

But the rain answered, a deep, guttural laugh reverberating through the downpour. Clara felt it then, the truth sinking into her soul: she was no longer just Clara Watts. She was part of it now. The rain had claimed her.

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