The Fire and Embers

by Tamara Bloodhoof

Chapter 2: And the Start of Another

Chapter 2
And the Start of Another

Darkness. That was all I knew. Neither pain or pleasure, cold or heat, but unassailable darkness. It was all consuming, a sea that I couldn’t swim in and a void I could not influence. If this was purgatory, then hell would have been better, for I had nothing but my mind left to me, and even that felt sluggish, tied to feelings and emotions I could no longer experience. I couldn’t even repeat the last few moments of my…life? I couldn’t recall the feeling of being grabbed, the terror I had felt at a corpse suddenly talking to me, all of it had been replaced with simple fact, knowledge that it had happened, and it felt both alien and ordinary at the same time. A stray thought passed through my mind; I think, therefore I am. But who am I? I am…Ember, but why can I know I experienced things yet be unable to relive them? Did that count as existence, and if it didn’t, then did I ever truly exist before?

‘We existed, but long ere we met.’

The voice startled me, but it seemed…right. Natural. My conscious, so long a nagging reminder, had become something much more. It was something that was supposed to be, and I was glad for it. The voice, so similar to my own…when or if I had my own…was the only other thing I could sense, but, try as I might to send something back, some scrap of fact, something, anything, it didn’t respond in turn.

I don’t know how long I simply existed and I doubt I ever will, but the first sense that came back to me was that of touch, and with it I felt that I was alive. I felt both extreme warmth radiating from all around me and a severe cold seeking to consume me, but I knew that I was, despite my inability to move my body, or even truly feel it. I couldn’t feel wind or air, but I could feel and yet again I let myself simply float the new feeling, relishing in the sudden rebirth of my sense. Ecstasy was doping my mind as what had been facts for so long became memories, memories that were flooding into me. Memories of pain, of pleasure, of sorrow, of joy. They were merely fragments, and I knew it, but they brought me a feeling of euphoria. Yet with the euphoria of regaining my sense came the agony and terror of being unable to feel my body and realization that I had been robbed of all movement. These sensations warred within me, without me, overwhelm all that I am and was I began to boil in the freezing heat, my mind reeling in the pleasurable pain. Again I couldn’t keep track of the time, as abstract as it would be, my mind too focused on the memories I had regained to do much more than sort through itself.

The second sense that came back to me was taste, but I can’t properly describe the flavours my mouth was attacked by. It was like water and air put together, yet it tasted nothing like them, something that I had never had before. Yet I couldn’t feel my mouth or my tongue. It was like leaving my mouth open during a winter’s day, but with the entirety of my being instead. Once again I felt joy at regaining another sense, another building block of my mind having found its home. My memories once again began to rebuild themselves, now including the taste of a burger off of the grill, the feeling of and taste of a glass of water running down my throat, of simply breathing in the midnight air, but another sword pierced me at the realization that I still had no clue about what had happened to me.

When I regained the sense of smell I barely noticed it, unable to truly smell anything until it began to encompass me entirely. It was only then that I realized that I had regained such an important sense, and that for the first time in my life I could smell myself. My own scent, something I had never noticed over all the other smells in the world, was now rushing over me in simultaneously sickening and gratifying waves. It was sweet, yet hearty, similar to the smell that came when you first bit into a spiced summer apple. The scent was enough to set off my memories yet again, scents of things that I could only remember by the feelings they had given me and the world that we had once shared. By now I had finally calmed down, accepting that I couldn’t feel my body as fact and growing used to the sensation. What had felt like months of deprivation of...of the rest of me, with only my memories for company had made me strong. This time I was simply glad to be able to piece together more of my past, of who I had been. Of what I had been.

Hearing was the fourth sense, and what I heard still haunts me to this day. A deep, rumbling boom that seemed to encompass everything in its deafening sound. It sounded like everything being ground together into nothing was all that I heard, and my mind shivered with primal fear. Fear of vanishing entirely or, worse, going back to my old state of simply existing. I felt fear, heard terror, tasted death, and smelled the void. My very existence had become one of terror, and I could do nothing to change it, from moving to simply making a sound, all I could do was remain, a spectre in a void of terror, and yet again time crawled on. For the first time I truly remembered words, and I began to count, to time how long I was there. I gave up once I had counted to a hundred and fifty nine thousand, losing track of the numbers.

Finally, after so much time that I had almost forgotten it existed, I regained sight. I could see, images of people and places finally connecting all of my forgotten memories, my mind feeling complete for the first time in what could only be months, and with it came a brief moment of bliss. But even that vanished as I saw what had plagued my very soul for so long. It was an eye, so big that I could see only a fraction of it, and it’s snake like pupil had focused upon me, seeing my existence and gauging whether I deserved such a blessing or not. I wanted to run, to flee as the nightmare judged me, but I was its prey, and I knew that there was nowhere I could flee from it. It was to be my final memory.

And then I woke up.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I was lying on my side, my eyes clouded and blurry, practically sightless. I was cold, freezing cold, and my stomach was like a miniature volcano, bubbling and brewing, ready to erupt. At this point I didn’t even try to keep it in, I simply rolled onto my chest and pushed against the ground, propping myself up as I vomited again, my hands now warm with the heat from my own bile. The smell was nauseous, and before I could stop myself another wave of vomit pushed itself out of my mouth, my eyes watering at the sensation.

After I finally stopped retching I pushed myself onto my feet, unable to stand straight, my legs feeling like two pillars of jelly. It hurt to stand, but I didn’t want to sit, not now, not here. I blinked again and again, trying to clear my eyes, but I couldn’t see anything, only the same darkness as before. For a second I thought I had reverted back, that I truly was in purgatory, and I began to breathe faster and faster, so fast that I felt light headed.

‘Calm yourself. If purgatory gave you a body, then purgatory gave you eyes.’

My breathing stopped for a single heartbeat, but it was enough to slow me down. Again I was saved by my conscious, and I began to stagger about, searching for something to anchor myself on. After a few seconds of searching I found it in a bumpy wall, hard to the touch and cold as stone. With nowhere else to go I started pushing left, hoping to find something to clean my hands in or else to reach somewhere where I could see.

I kept walking for what felt like miles before my eyes picked up upon the faintest glimmers of light. Another minute and I could finally see what I was walking on. It was a cave floor, bumpy and broken, but it was something that I could see, something so simple yet so wonderful. As I kept pushing forward I could see more and more, the walls starting to turn almost purple in the light of what could only be the moon. Finally the endless stone gave way to a hole, and with a quick jog I reached it. The sight before me was breath-taking, and I felt myself drop to my knees, laughing in unrestrained joy.

I couldn’t tell what had happened, I didn’t understand anything that was going on, but I was in a cave entrance high up in the air, easily a few hundred feet above the ground, the entrance overlooking a massive valley, trees glinting silver in the moonlight, the water glowing in the it’s reflection. It was something that looked familiar, and that simple fact made me feel light headed. I didn’t know where I was or why this was, but it was something, anything that fit what I would call normal.

‘Normal is gone Ember, and you would fare far better to forget such a thing.’

My laughter stopped as I began to process the sombre truth of my situation. I was somewhere I hadn’t seen in at least years, in a place with no smog in the sky, no lights in the horizon. I was in the wilderness, on my own, and I had no way of contacting anyone even if they were nearby. I felt like screaming again, in shouting at the sky, and I nearly grabbed my head with my hands to try and stop myself from doing so. I never did so. Instead I stopped, looking at them. I nearly choked as I looked at what were undoubtedly claws.

My palms had transformed, no longer two smooth skinned hands but instead a pair of scaled monstrosities, each sporting a set of four clawed fingers. They didn’t seem any larger in proportion to my arm before, but they still looked absolutely massive. I flexed my right index finger, and the corresponding claw bent in turn. With a cry of shock I tried to pull the offending claw off of me with my other hand, but pain coursed through my body as I yanked at the digit. This wasn’t some cheap gimmick, a simple parlour trick. My hands had changed, and I felt fear latch onto my heart as I realized that my arms too were scaled in the same pitch black scales. Looking at the rest of me, I realized that it wasn’t just my arms, but also my legs, chest, and out of the corner of my eye I saw a tail gently swishing about.

I had changed. That answer was so simple yet so impossibly complicated. How had I changed? Why was I suddenly garbed in scales? What was that body that I had stumbled upon? How much time had truly passed between that moment and now? It was something that I couldn’t answer, and I could feel my chest rising and lowering rapidly, my breath sounding erratic to my own ears. I was fighting for control of my own body, to keep myself from running like a doddering fool. I gripped my head, my eyes closing as I muttered to myself over and over.

“This isn’t real! This isn’t real! This isn’t real!”

‘Reality is cruel, but fate is far fouler.’

The ground suddenly shuddered, sending me sprawling on the stone, my head slamming into the rocks. I quickly sat up, only to see the same image as before. A massive eye, pupil slit like a snake, a rumbling roar making my very essence cower before it. My mind, so fragile from all that I was going through, couldn’t handle it any more. My brain shut down, and I fell onto my side, my last thought before slipping into unconsciousness so simple that it shouldn’t have had to be a question.

‘Why?’

Comments

[ramseymac]

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[zack black]

Okay, that beginning, fucking phenomenal. There was a single period missing and a little bit of confusion with what was what. Lots of weird sentences that could only be appreciated when you've read them all. As a whole, it's a glorious description of oblivion. I'm not kidding, I enjoyed that first part a lot. Then there was the wake up call. It's been done before, but by some of the better writers of HIE, so consider your skill in that category. Overall, this revision tops your old story and we're not even to chapter three yet.

[Phobos]

Dis good story. I ca has god powers

[The Dark Bro]

This is amazing. The beginning was pure poetry and the follow-up is viewed through shell shock or even distantly. Again, amazing.