[1%]

28.2K 721 397
                                    




The bitter zephyr filling my lungs felt raw to me. It was uneven and sparse on how they expanded in my chest. It felt unnatural to breathe. I could feel how they squeezed and released, and how they ached like they were hollow sandbags. They felt like they didn't belong to me.

My eyesight was fogged with a nebulous clout. All I could see was murky shadows that taunted me and how I couldn't make sense to them. Everything was bleak and abstract like a hard-boiled painting in an abandoned gallery. I considered I was dreaming, but I realized I had just woke from one. The glacial brisk of cold stone pressed against my palms as I weakly rolled over to my stomach. I allowed my hands to grate my surroundings. Everything was cold, begrimed of soil and rigid of uneven ground.

Birds? I think I could hear them singing over head synchronizing with the chirrups of insects. I paused, allowing my body to adjust to where I was. It felt like I was in a state of shock I couldn't shake off to release from my shoulders. I felt drained. I felt empty. It felt like my body had been enduring so much strain and now the tension was finally being released.

I grew afraid as my senses finally began to adjust because I didn't know where I was. And when I dug deeper into my hollow felt head, I couldn't even remember who I was. A name. A face. A place. All files of an ordinary memory came up blank for me. I frisked every corner of my remembrance for any friends I might have or family. Everything was empty.

When I got a grip of my composure I was able to notice things clearly. I was in a corridor, a narrow cryptic space that looked to have no end to the left side. However, when I glanced to the right, I could see another hall branch off to the side. Gradually, I pulled myself from the floor, propping myself alongside the columns veiled in withering, dehydrated growth of ivy.

My breathes were shallow that bounced back to my ears. I don't remember where I was before this, or who took the action to put me here, or why I was sent here. Was this purgatory?

The crush of grime resonated from above me. I could hear soft footsteps pushing against grain. I checked each side of me, however, I couldn't see anyone. This place seemed so isolated and deserted it didn't look like it would be occupied by anyone. Faint snivels began to amplify into my ears that traveled down from above.

With languid movements, I stood to my feet. I kept my hands placed against the wall for support unless my body decided to defy me. When I looked up to find the source of the silent cries, I was stunned when I spotted a figure looming near the edge. I couldn't forge the features of this person or the clothes they were wearing. All I saw was their silhouette and how it forebode to jump.

The walls were enormous, which stated clearly they wouldn't be able to endure the impact. They would die. With my heart pumping like a siphon I attempted to call out. Nothing came out. Like a plug clogging my throat, it strained against my neck. The air used to speak sealed right before it even passed my teeth. When I tried again, it was the same effect. A clogged pipe.

I couldn't speak. Not a word.

It struck me that I was helpless; when I tried to scream for them to stop when the figure fell forward, all that came out was strangled air. Eyes dilated in horror, I watched as they plummeted straight down overhead. My legs felt brittle as I attempted to step back, like a part of me didn't want to move. A part deep beneath my skin anchored me to stay.

My chest clenched when their fall was broken by the ivy. His limbs were ensnared by the vegetation, stinging up his body and slithering tightly around his ankles. I heard a sharp pop before I shut my eyes, stammering back from the wall.

I was so scared and didn't understand what was going on. I wanted to let that fear all out into a powerful scream, but my voice defied me. My voice was constricted. I covered my ears with the palms of my hands to shut everything out. I didn't want to be here. I wanted to leave, but a part of me didn't just want to leave him. Something inside me didn't want to go.

Aphonic {TMR;Newt}Dove le storie prendono vita. Scoprilo ora