The Cryptid Files by Jean Flitcroft

to, but her hand reached out to scrape more moss.
    It was some time before she began to notice the changes in herself. Normally a light golden brown, the skin on her hands began to look increasingly pale and sickly. She watched mesmerised as her arms slowly took on a greenish colour and then began to glow. Rolling up her trouser legs, she discovered that her feet and legs were turning green too.
    Now take a swim and see the difference.
    Slowly she stood up and looked below her into the water. She could see down near the edges with the glow from the moss, but farther out it was dull and murky. Why couldn’t she be dreaming about turquoise-blue Mediterranean waters? She dived in, breaking the surface of the water with only the slightest ripple.
    The water felt cool and refreshing as she expected, but something else surprised her. It also felt soft and velvety, almost as if it were caressing her. She raised her hand out of the water and let it drip through her fingers, trying to understand the feeling of healing and comfort it gave her. When she put her hand back into the water, the glow from her skin was intense and she could see right down below her into the depths. There were no fish or plants, nothing at all to see.
    She took a deep breath and went under, swimming down hard. About 10 feet below the surface she could see a series of caves but she didn’t feel like exploring them. Deeper again she thought she saw something move, so she swam towards it, but it was gone by the time she reached the spot.
    She looked back up to the surface; it seemed a long way off. How had she managed to hold her breath so long? She was a good swimmer, but thirty seconds was about her best breath hold. Luke was much better. Luke. The name sang in her head, reverberating. It felt so familiar and yet she couldn’t attach an image to the name.
    When she got to the surface again, Vanessa climbed out. She felt tired and hungry now. Something had disturbed her equilibrium, some memory she couldn’t place. She scraped some more moss off the walls and put this fresh supply in her sock, which began to glow comically. She giggled at the sight of it, feeling happier again. She sat now on her fleece and examined her green limbs in awe. Her trousers should have been dripping wet – she’d just climbed out of the water – but they felt dry and comfortable, and her fleece, too, was soft and warm. Presumably this dream would end some time soon. But not too soon, she hoped.

CHAPTER 21
    Mr P. Macnab, county councillor and bank manager in Ayrshire, photographed Nessie near Urquhart Castle. The picture was published in the Weekly Scotsman in October 1958. Far from seeking publicity, he said, ‘through diffidence and fear of ridicule, I have kept it to myself until now’.
    Luke and Ronan!
    The names popped out of nowhere into her head and she sat up suddenly, grazing her elbow of a rock. Of course, her brothers. How could she have forgotten her brothers? She focused hard and managed to see them on a bank with fishing rods, but beyond that one image she couldn’t picture them, no matter how hard she tried.
    She looked around, surprised to find herself in the same place. What on earth was this all about? She had never had to find a way out of a dream before. Normally, she just woke up. She looked at her watch, forgetting that it was broken. Five o’clock. Why was that time significant? What had she done to break her watch? She waited for an image, but nothing came. She would find her own way out, even if her mind wasn’t willing to help. She jumped to her feet.
    The rocks felt almost warm to her touch this time. Her hands and feet were still glowing but very faintly now; she must have been asleep for some time. She gathered more moss into her sock and tucked it into her belt. She knew that she would have to eat some more of it if she wanted to find a way out in the water. Besides she was beginning to like the feel of it