Washed Away With The Sea | Flashback ‘13 | Jo&Seb
It was only a matter of time before the Morrigans would be after him. The man had no pulse. Lungs full to the brim with water. Sebastian had blacked out. Anger had boiled over and blurred his vision. Made him see red. Made him react without thought. Just fuel. Fuel to a fire he hadn’t known burned within him.
Moving the body seemed like a cop out. But if he left it, more than just the Morrigans would rain down on him. Authorities. Investigators. There’d been plenty of witnesses at the bar to know he had wronged Sebastian. Now to turn up dead. All fingers would point to him. Though water full of lungs may strike them as odd, for his body lay on dry land.
The storm clouds rolled on, the rain pelted down against his cool, anxious body. The tides crashed and washed up the shore of the beach, leaving him dry as the water snaked up around him, and retreated back to the ocean. That’s where he sat for hours. Contemplating. Body beside him. No one came down here. Not at this hour. But how could he be sure.
Where would he put it? How could he hide this? The shore would only bring him back if he pushed him out at sea. Or would it? Did the same rules of the Island apply to the dead? He would find out. He’d take his chances if it meant he could hide this in the depths of his sea, a secret deep down only known to three. The sisters. They’d come for him. There’d be otherworldly talk, and they’d come. But maybe the body would stay, buried beneath the sea.
Manipulation of water caused the body to be swept to sea. The pull of the waves had brought the ruffian deep out, and the whirl of a vortex dragged him to the locker. Where there was promise he might stay forever.
How he got from the beach to the Fairchild’s Estate was a mystery even to him. But he had. The lights at the house were off for the most part, save for a few rooms. That was good. It meant they hadn’t been there. Yet. At least from what he could sense.
Sebastian needed Josephine. Wherever she was. She could protect him. Couldn’t she? She had always done what she could to keep him from trouble. But murder. What would murder do to her heart?
He searched through the house for her, anxiety plaguing him as more rooms he searched went without her presence. There to calm this raging storm inside. “Jo,” he said, calling out for her. Hoping not to wake Mariana. The mere sight of him was clear he’d been through something violent in nature. Blood dried from the cuts on his face, his hands. “Mom,” he cried out, loud enough to wake the household if it were as asleep as it appeared.
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