Suddenly I felt a bit nervous. Was he going to tell me he didn't love me anymore? He had saved my life, but that didn't mean he still loved me in that way. All my fears and insecurities leapt to the forefront of my mind. I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry and said, "Okay, what do we need to talk about?"
He studied me for a moment then responded, "I can't go on like this, I can't eat, I can't sleep, the only things I can do are fight and," a light flush crept up into his cheeks, "think about you, Elaine."
My brain froze. How could I have been so wrong. He wasn't going to leave me, he still loved me, more than I could have possibly imagined. I felt as though I had swallowed the sun. Warmth started to radiate from my stomach and throughout my whole body. He still loved me. I felt a smile break across my face for the first time in ages. My cheeks became flushed and I slowly sat up.
He was watching me still, I wondered why he was not smiling too. I looked at him with a puzzled expression and asked, "What's wrong John?" He looked like a shy school boy again as he plucked a blade of grass and questioned, "I guess I wonder if you feel the same way." Those eyes looked up at me with a melting expression. I sat there for a moment, stunned that he didn't know. But then I had been careful. I had wanted him to make the first moves. I had held a lot of my feelings inside. I looked straight into those deep blue eyes and declared,
"John, I love you, with all my heart. I don't ever want to be separated from you again."
His most dazzling grin broke across his face from ear to ear. Simultaneously, without any verbal communication between us, we both stood up and threw our arms around each other. He lifted me off my feet and began twirling me around the clearing, my toes skimming the dew-covered grass. We were young and in love.
Anyone who happened upon that clearing could see it, clear as day: we were in love. They would see two young adults in their mid-twenties spinning through the glen in the sunlight. The young man standing a few inches under six feet with a mop of unruly black hair holding a young woman with fair skin and a head of long, wild red curls that bounced everywhere. Her green eyes danced and sparkled with the inner glow of a woman in love.
They enjoyed this moment, savoring each sensation.
For this was the day everything turned upside down.
Sunday, July 15, 2012
(9) Rescue
"I was so worried about you Elaine." John whispered in my ear as he held me close and buried his face in my hair. I clung to him with what strength I had left. Here was my pillar. I didn't have to fight on my own anymore. He pulled back after a long moment and stared into my eyes. The depth of those blue pools always astounded me. A wrinkle popped up between his brows as he knit them together in concern. "Are you alright?!" He asked, a hint of panic edging his usually calm voice. I shook my head slowly, it was growing more difficult to think. His eyes hardened with determination as he announced, "You don't have to worry Elaine, you're safe now. I'm going to take care of you." I nodded and he scooped me into his arms and carried me out of the room of the dead. Vague glimpses of a winding staircase, a long dark tunnel, and a green woodland trail were all I could see in my delirious state. Finally, we stopped and I felt John lay me down on the ground. I sensed him rummage at my side before I fell into an exhausted sleep.
When I awoke, the colors seemed too bright and the sounds too clear for reality. I rubbed my eyes and laid my hands on either side of my head. They felt cloth and cool, damp grass. I seemed to be in the middle of a secluded glen. I could hear a brook somewhere close by. The sunlight filtering through the trees made the dew still clingling to the leaves sparkle like a thousand diamonds. I stretched and turned my head to the side. My eyes found a pair of blue ones staring into them. John was sitting, sprawled on the dew-laden grass a few feet away watching me. He wasn't wearing a shirt. I felt color return to my face as my eyes took in his toned, bare chest. He was not exceptionally broad, but he was not out of shape either. A few raised scars cut across the smooth skin, along with a few grazed spots from ray gun fire. He had been in the fighting, and some of the cuts looked rather recent. It was then that my brain realized that I was laying on his shirt.
"How do you feel, Elaine?" came my love's voice. I was momentarily distracted from answering because it was such a beautiful sound, John saying my name. Dozens upon dozens of people had said those syllables in my lifetime, but none of them had made my name sound as special and sweet as John. "Elaine?" there it was again. He made it sound musical. But the tone of concern in his voice made me stop enjoying the sounds comming out of his mouth and start answering his question. "I feel...fine?" I answered haltingly. I was confused. Why did I feel so good? I should feel terrible after such a long time without basic necessities and bodily comforts. He smiled a sparkling smile at me in the morning light and motioned to a near-by rock laden with herbs and some thick paste that looked like the remains of a flattened slug. I smiled at him as I propped myself up on my elbows. Of course he would have mixed me up a potion. He had a way with that. He had a way with everything. And as I looked back at him, sitting there in the grass, ray gun strapped to his side, I knew that I was even more in love with him than I thought. He was watching me carefully, with a measured look on his face. After a moment of silence he said,
"Elaine, we need to talk."
When I awoke, the colors seemed too bright and the sounds too clear for reality. I rubbed my eyes and laid my hands on either side of my head. They felt cloth and cool, damp grass. I seemed to be in the middle of a secluded glen. I could hear a brook somewhere close by. The sunlight filtering through the trees made the dew still clingling to the leaves sparkle like a thousand diamonds. I stretched and turned my head to the side. My eyes found a pair of blue ones staring into them. John was sitting, sprawled on the dew-laden grass a few feet away watching me. He wasn't wearing a shirt. I felt color return to my face as my eyes took in his toned, bare chest. He was not exceptionally broad, but he was not out of shape either. A few raised scars cut across the smooth skin, along with a few grazed spots from ray gun fire. He had been in the fighting, and some of the cuts looked rather recent. It was then that my brain realized that I was laying on his shirt.
"How do you feel, Elaine?" came my love's voice. I was momentarily distracted from answering because it was such a beautiful sound, John saying my name. Dozens upon dozens of people had said those syllables in my lifetime, but none of them had made my name sound as special and sweet as John. "Elaine?" there it was again. He made it sound musical. But the tone of concern in his voice made me stop enjoying the sounds comming out of his mouth and start answering his question. "I feel...fine?" I answered haltingly. I was confused. Why did I feel so good? I should feel terrible after such a long time without basic necessities and bodily comforts. He smiled a sparkling smile at me in the morning light and motioned to a near-by rock laden with herbs and some thick paste that looked like the remains of a flattened slug. I smiled at him as I propped myself up on my elbows. Of course he would have mixed me up a potion. He had a way with that. He had a way with everything. And as I looked back at him, sitting there in the grass, ray gun strapped to his side, I knew that I was even more in love with him than I thought. He was watching me carefully, with a measured look on his face. After a moment of silence he said,
"Elaine, we need to talk."
Friday, July 13, 2012
(8) A Familiar Voice
Since I was surrounded by hundreds of animated corpses, I was terrified.
I stood there, panting as the sweat rolled down from my temples to my
neck. I wondered if they were sentient beings or merely animated
corpses. My body had about reached all it could take. I needed to get
out of there fast. I cleared my throat which had become bone dry and in
the loudest voice I could manage, I asked the nearest body, “what do you
want?” No response. I waited. Nothing. So they were probably just…my
mind searched for an explanation and came up short. I had to move or I
was going to die, and I had to save John. John. He had been driven from
my mind in the impending doom of corpses chasing me. He would know how
to get me out. What would he do? I stood there for a moment thinking.
Why hadn’t he come to get me already? Had the beasts found him yet? No.
That could not be the case. He always came for me. What was delaying him
in finding me? I hadn’t realized until this moment how much I trusted
in his constant presence. It was his absence for longer than I though
necessary that brought this truth so close to the front of my mind.
Where was that mad man? Suddenly, as though an answer to my thoughts, I
heard a familiar voice echo across the cavern.
“Elaine, are you in there?!”
It was him. John had come. I was saved. Suddenly, nothing else mattered. He was here. I looked around wildly for him. I pushed the corpses aside in my haste to see the one I love, and they fell away before me. One corner of my mind—the only part not consumed with thoughts of John—remembered what the old scientist had said in his message, “Try to stay calm, they're not going to hurt you." My fear had been irrational. I was afraid of the unknown.
“Hold on Elaine!! I’m coming, just stand back from the door!” I scanned the room for this door and finally found it in the far corner. I started sprinting there. Right before I reached the door I heard the sound of his ray gun charging. I dived out of the way as he blasted the door open. Wooden splinters flew everywhere and through the smoking doorway burst John. His eyes searched for something, but when they found mine they lit up. Their search was over. His mop of jet black hair was looking as casually tousled as ever and the smile that broke across his face was enough to make me fall to my knees, even if I wasn't weak already. Here was the man I loved. He covered the space between us in a matter of seconds and pulled me into his arms. His scent filled my senses and his strong arms encircled me.
I was safe, for the moment.
“Elaine, are you in there?!”
It was him. John had come. I was saved. Suddenly, nothing else mattered. He was here. I looked around wildly for him. I pushed the corpses aside in my haste to see the one I love, and they fell away before me. One corner of my mind—the only part not consumed with thoughts of John—remembered what the old scientist had said in his message, “Try to stay calm, they're not going to hurt you." My fear had been irrational. I was afraid of the unknown.
“Hold on Elaine!! I’m coming, just stand back from the door!” I scanned the room for this door and finally found it in the far corner. I started sprinting there. Right before I reached the door I heard the sound of his ray gun charging. I dived out of the way as he blasted the door open. Wooden splinters flew everywhere and through the smoking doorway burst John. His eyes searched for something, but when they found mine they lit up. Their search was over. His mop of jet black hair was looking as casually tousled as ever and the smile that broke across his face was enough to make me fall to my knees, even if I wasn't weak already. Here was the man I loved. He covered the space between us in a matter of seconds and pulled me into his arms. His scent filled my senses and his strong arms encircled me.
I was safe, for the moment.
Thursday, July 5, 2012
(7) The Tomb of the Dead
I'm not a person who would count herself as having a weak stomach,
but the combination of extreme dehydration, being left unconscious
twice, and waking up in a room full of hundreds of rotting corpses
pushed me over the edge. My vision blacked out, there was a ringing in
my ears, and I collapsed on the stone ground. I pulled my matted hair
behind my head just before I wretched. The only thing that came up was
stomach bile and the last remains of that potion which burned my throat.
Dry heaves followed and I had to lay there for a long while before I
felt well enough to sit up again. Sweat was trickling down my face and
neck and tears had leaked out of my eyes. My body was feeling rough. I
needed to get out of there or I was going to die from dehydration. I
clutched the stone table I had lain on for support as I raised myself
into a standing position. The smell of death and rotting flesh filled
the room, it was strong enough to overpower the smell of my own vomit. I
stared around for a way out. In the corner of my eye, I thought I saw a
body sit up under its sheet. I snapped my head around, stifling a small
gasp, but nothing seemed changed. All of the bodies in my field of
vision were laying down, no doubt decomposing into the stone. My mind
must be playing tricks on me. I continued to scan the room, but there
was another movement in the corner of my eye. Once I had a good look:
nothing. I was allowing myself to get creeped out. I had to stay strong.
I was only afraid of the unknown. I couldn't let fear rule my life. I
paused for a moment, and closed my eyes.
I carried my fears to their logical conclusion:
What if the bodies, the half-decomposed corpses, were moving. So what? What was I afraid they would do? The worst they could do would be to kill me. Well, I had already faced death once, besides, I wasn't afraid of death at all. When my time came, be in now or years later, I would welcome it.
My eyes opened with a sigh of relief. This time, they did not hesitate in finding the only opening leading out of this tomb. I started walking that way, knowing I needed to find water before I joined the corpses from natural causes. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a great deal of movement. I kept my eyes forward. Just because I was no longer afraid of the ultimate consequences of my fear, didn't mean that corpses stalking me wasn't affecting me at all. When I walking as fast as I possibly could manage in my condition the movement behind me reached a very noticeable level; I jerked around. Over half of the bodies in the room were following me. Their sheets were still over their ruined bodies, making them appear like one imagines ghosts. They all stopped moving the instant I turned around. Only the folds of the fabric settling into new positions showed how quickly they had been following me. I didn't know what to do. I tried backing up, but I stepped on someone's foot, and it wasn't alive.
They had me surrounded.
I carried my fears to their logical conclusion:
What if the bodies, the half-decomposed corpses, were moving. So what? What was I afraid they would do? The worst they could do would be to kill me. Well, I had already faced death once, besides, I wasn't afraid of death at all. When my time came, be in now or years later, I would welcome it.
My eyes opened with a sigh of relief. This time, they did not hesitate in finding the only opening leading out of this tomb. I started walking that way, knowing I needed to find water before I joined the corpses from natural causes. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a great deal of movement. I kept my eyes forward. Just because I was no longer afraid of the ultimate consequences of my fear, didn't mean that corpses stalking me wasn't affecting me at all. When I walking as fast as I possibly could manage in my condition the movement behind me reached a very noticeable level; I jerked around. Over half of the bodies in the room were following me. Their sheets were still over their ruined bodies, making them appear like one imagines ghosts. They all stopped moving the instant I turned around. Only the folds of the fabric settling into new positions showed how quickly they had been following me. I didn't know what to do. I tried backing up, but I stepped on someone's foot, and it wasn't alive.
They had me surrounded.
(6) A Message Beyond the Grave
I was swimming. My body was floating up through the levels of cool
water that got colder with each successive level. The surface was in
sight, but the light above was darker and more like torch light than
sunlight. I became more aware of my senses as I reached the surface of
the water. I opened my mouth to gulp air the moment I reached the
surface, but I gagged on cloth instead.
I opened my eyes as I pulled the thin, white cloth out of my mouth. The cloth seemed to cover my whole body. I stared through it at the stone ceiling above me. I seemed to be in an old cavern. A torch nearby provided light for me to see. I laid there for a moment, wondering what was going on, then a voice started talking to me...from inside my head...and it wasn't mine.
It sounded familiar, but I could not quite place the man's tired voice at first, "Hello, you are hearing me now because of a potion I gave you between the extraction of your memories and your death. Contrary to what the Beasts and even you believed, I was not planning on killing you. I merely made you appear as one who was dead. Your thoughts were conveyed to the Beasts. I hope that you told them only what you wanted them to know. I gave them whatever you thought about. I have been forced into doing the Beast's dirty work for years, but I'm sick of it. I'm going to be long gone by the time you wake up. I'm only glad that I was able to save your life. I'd do anything for John, and I know he'd want you to be protected. This message is almost over. You're on your own now. I won't be able to help you anymore. Just one last thing before I go. Try to stay calm, they're not going to hurt you."
I laid there, staring up at the stones thinking about what this man left in my head. He had saved my life, and I didn't even know his name. He was safer that way, but how did he know about John? I puzzled over that for a moment before I was overwhelmed with thirst. The potion had dried my body out and the cloth had left a musty taste on my parched tongue. I sat up quickly and got dizzy from dehydration. My vision went black for a moment as the cloth slid off my face. As my eyes adjusted back I saw that I was indeed in a torch-lit cavern. I was on a stone table. There seemed to be a lot of other similar stone tables covered in sheets like mine. I swung my legs over the side of the table and looked more closely at the one next to mine. I saw the shape of a body under the sheet. I lifted the cloth, wondering how many sleeping people were down here.
I had to shove my fist in my mouth to keep from screaming.
The body under the cloth was half-rotted and crawling with maggots. The skin was mostly off the skull. It stared ever upward with empty sockets.
I was in a room full of hundreds of corpses.
I opened my eyes as I pulled the thin, white cloth out of my mouth. The cloth seemed to cover my whole body. I stared through it at the stone ceiling above me. I seemed to be in an old cavern. A torch nearby provided light for me to see. I laid there for a moment, wondering what was going on, then a voice started talking to me...from inside my head...and it wasn't mine.
It sounded familiar, but I could not quite place the man's tired voice at first, "Hello, you are hearing me now because of a potion I gave you between the extraction of your memories and your death. Contrary to what the Beasts and even you believed, I was not planning on killing you. I merely made you appear as one who was dead. Your thoughts were conveyed to the Beasts. I hope that you told them only what you wanted them to know. I gave them whatever you thought about. I have been forced into doing the Beast's dirty work for years, but I'm sick of it. I'm going to be long gone by the time you wake up. I'm only glad that I was able to save your life. I'd do anything for John, and I know he'd want you to be protected. This message is almost over. You're on your own now. I won't be able to help you anymore. Just one last thing before I go. Try to stay calm, they're not going to hurt you."
I laid there, staring up at the stones thinking about what this man left in my head. He had saved my life, and I didn't even know his name. He was safer that way, but how did he know about John? I puzzled over that for a moment before I was overwhelmed with thirst. The potion had dried my body out and the cloth had left a musty taste on my parched tongue. I sat up quickly and got dizzy from dehydration. My vision went black for a moment as the cloth slid off my face. As my eyes adjusted back I saw that I was indeed in a torch-lit cavern. I was on a stone table. There seemed to be a lot of other similar stone tables covered in sheets like mine. I swung my legs over the side of the table and looked more closely at the one next to mine. I saw the shape of a body under the sheet. I lifted the cloth, wondering how many sleeping people were down here.
I had to shove my fist in my mouth to keep from screaming.
The body under the cloth was half-rotted and crawling with maggots. The skin was mostly off the skull. It stared ever upward with empty sockets.
I was in a room full of hundreds of corpses.
(5) Prepared for Death
The man looked into my eyes with an unfathomable expression. I opened
my mouth to tell him what I thought about the Beast's plan, what he
could do with his potion, and most of all...that there was no way in a
thousand years that I would give the Beasts any information. Before I
had more than one angry syllable out of my mouth he poured the orange
liquid down my throat. I spluttered angrily and would have cursed at him
if he hadn't shaken his head sadly at me and held a finger to his lips.
I didn't really need the gesture, the potion had a debilitating effect
on my ability to speak.
I was spinning into a world of orange oblivion. Blue and green stars burst before my eyes and I lost all connection with my physical body. My thoughts automatically jumped to the thing that brought them the most comfort: John. The Beast's must have known this would happen, but they underestimated a young woman's love and what that could enable her to do. In my spinning delirium I snapped my mind away from all truth relating to John and fell back to old stories, hear-say, and general myth. I wove a tale so brilliant that I defied even the Beasts to discover it's falsehood before I was dead and the secret dead with me. Locked inside my head forever.
I only hoped John would escape from the Beasts forever. This was all I could do. This was all I could give. I would protect him in the only way that I could. I felt the delirium lessen. Blackness was creeping in around the edges of my mind. I was fading. Where was that light at the end of the tunnel people always spoke of? I guess it was just a story to help the weak face death with more courage. I was prepared to die. I was more than willing to die for the one I loved. The blackness was almost completely enclosing me now. "Goodbye John" I thought. "I will..."
Silence in her mind. She thought no more.
I was spinning into a world of orange oblivion. Blue and green stars burst before my eyes and I lost all connection with my physical body. My thoughts automatically jumped to the thing that brought them the most comfort: John. The Beast's must have known this would happen, but they underestimated a young woman's love and what that could enable her to do. In my spinning delirium I snapped my mind away from all truth relating to John and fell back to old stories, hear-say, and general myth. I wove a tale so brilliant that I defied even the Beasts to discover it's falsehood before I was dead and the secret dead with me. Locked inside my head forever.
I only hoped John would escape from the Beasts forever. This was all I could do. This was all I could give. I would protect him in the only way that I could. I felt the delirium lessen. Blackness was creeping in around the edges of my mind. I was fading. Where was that light at the end of the tunnel people always spoke of? I guess it was just a story to help the weak face death with more courage. I was prepared to die. I was more than willing to die for the one I loved. The blackness was almost completely enclosing me now. "Goodbye John" I thought. "I will..."
Silence in her mind. She thought no more.
(4) Death in a Bottle
I couldn't let anything happen to John. I would protect him in any
way that I could, if it was the last thing I did. The raging flames of
passion burned inside me as I tried to think of a way to keep him safe.
My body trembled from the crash and new adrenaline rush. I felt as
though my body was trying to shake itself apart from the inside out. It
was a very unpleasant feeling. My body was no doubt also protesting the
lack of food and drink. I thought about asking for some, before
realizing that my impending death made life-sustaining things like that
obsolete. I thought for a long while on that table. Finally, my voice,
trembling like my body, broke the silence.
"How are you going to take my memories?" I tried to make my voice as innocent as possible with the right amount of curiosity present to seem real. I was not surprised by the silence that followed. This man was not very verbose. I tried pleading with him, yelling at him, trying to break my restraints: no reaction. Nothing. Not even an acknowledgment of my presence. Eventually I started to cry. The tears slid down my face and into my ears. This was quite uncomfortable. I wanted to sit up, but I was trapped lying down on this sterile table covered with an old sheet. I laid there, pouring over the memories I had of John. When I compared them to my other memories, the ones without him, I noticed that the memories he was in were brighter. They were more wonderful. Everything seemed better when I was with him. Even other happy times before we met were dim when held up against the glowing light that radiated from every stolen moment with him, every little look and touch. I would not lose these memories and give him up to the Beasts.
The hours dragged on. I was unable to sleep, but I was also unable to do anything else, so I thought about John. Finally, after what seemed like an age. The man in the white coat came over to my table holding a flask of an orange liquid in it. He looked me in the eyes and said, "This potion will reveal what you are thinking about as it enters your mind. I want you to think about everything the Beasts want to know about John. His physical appearance, place of residence, and other such details would be appreciated. When the extraction is complete I will administer another potion which will kill you"
"How are you going to take my memories?" I tried to make my voice as innocent as possible with the right amount of curiosity present to seem real. I was not surprised by the silence that followed. This man was not very verbose. I tried pleading with him, yelling at him, trying to break my restraints: no reaction. Nothing. Not even an acknowledgment of my presence. Eventually I started to cry. The tears slid down my face and into my ears. This was quite uncomfortable. I wanted to sit up, but I was trapped lying down on this sterile table covered with an old sheet. I laid there, pouring over the memories I had of John. When I compared them to my other memories, the ones without him, I noticed that the memories he was in were brighter. They were more wonderful. Everything seemed better when I was with him. Even other happy times before we met were dim when held up against the glowing light that radiated from every stolen moment with him, every little look and touch. I would not lose these memories and give him up to the Beasts.
The hours dragged on. I was unable to sleep, but I was also unable to do anything else, so I thought about John. Finally, after what seemed like an age. The man in the white coat came over to my table holding a flask of an orange liquid in it. He looked me in the eyes and said, "This potion will reveal what you are thinking about as it enters your mind. I want you to think about everything the Beasts want to know about John. His physical appearance, place of residence, and other such details would be appreciated. When the extraction is complete I will administer another potion which will kill you"
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