Imogene d’Alsace (The Woman in the Well)

Imogene woke in the darkness; she could not move. She had no sense of her body or anything around her accept the dark.

This was not the utter darkness of the abyss; it was the near blackness that belonged to the witching hour on a moonless night.

From the place where her body lay, the place to which she felt bound, Imogene looked up through a long tunnel of nothingness, up to a small round disk across which passed the starry night, and laying there she tracked the tiny silver pin pricks of light.

The last thing she remembered was being attacked by Amelie Elmquist, a mad-woman who came at her with a kitchen knife, and upon recalling that memory Imogene realized that she was laying at the bottom of her well…she was dead.

She had argued with Amelie who had fallen into a rage and killed her, who must have then dumped her body in the well and left her rotting in the elements. Her spirit was restless, she was disconnected from the earth and she had no sense of how much time had passed since her demise, or why she had woken to the world at this moment.

She waited, she listened, she wondered if there might be a medium nearby who was calling on her specifically, or perhaps clairvoyant who was seeking contact with any spirit who might be anchored in the vicinity, the way that murdered people often are. But she sensed nothing of the kind, not the presence of any medium whatsoever, and she gave up speculating after a time.

Imogene was determined to wait, and then she sensed something; she felt a warm light in the distance, glowing in the darkness.

Imogene struggled, she focused her will on the light and warmth but she could not go to it. She was fixed to the spot where her murdered corpse lay rotting; she was trapped.

Imogene returned her focus to the light, this time she concentrated on drawing it to her, then it came to her in power like the onrushing bear. The light entered her home, the great bear spirit was searching for something, perhaps looking for her.

It stopped over the dried pool of blood her murdered corpse had left on the floor, and Imogene was pulled from the well to that spot.

She saw the bear was not a bear at all, but a tall young man who had been frightened, but was now calm and curious.

Imogene stretched and reached toward the aura of the man, barely brushing him with her essence, but when she did they were joined and she knew who he was.

In that moment he began to recede from her, disappearing into the void; Imogene was helpless to do anything to prevent it. She called out to him and begged him to remember where she was, at her house in the woods, near the quaking bog.

As she called out she knew he had heard her, and she was sure that she had imparted at least one gift to him.

She had bestowing on him the gift of sight.