Family Ties

6- Smoke Rises

Blackness. Then a chill. That is what I first saw and felt as I awoke to a broken and unfamiliar place. Light began to build, slowly but surely; gradually illuminating the cold dome I had found myself in. Worryingly, there was no sign of anything at all. All that could be heard was my rapid breathing and the creaking of my bed as I sat up. I was face to face with nothing, and yet I was scared. Above me was nothing once again, now a familiar sight, baffling me even more. Carefully, I pushed off my covers and got out of bed.

Instantly, I felt wet. Looking down, I realised that I had dipped my bare feet into a clear liquid that went up to my shins. Cold. It was cold. The stench hit me next. Bending over to observe what I was standing in, I recoiled in disgust at the sudden realisation that it emulated a distinct smell. Bitter and strong were the only two words I could use to describe it; the sort of thing my friends used to have around at parties.

Cautiously, I took a step forward, causing ripples to form near my legs. It felt like I was pushing through a swamp everytime I pulled one of my legs free to keep wandering through nothing. Unfortunately, the stench remained and almost worsened the more I walked through the liquid towards no destination in particular. Endless. It looked to be endless. Turning back, I expected to see the comforting sight of my lone bed standing strong in the darkness.

Nothing.

Damn.

My heart sunk as my legs did, staring at the area my resting place once stood and rooted to one spot. Where did it go? Where am I?

If this was supposed to be a siege, there's not much worth to take if they succeed...

Reluctantly turning around once again, I continued to stride in the same direction as before. After all, there was a higher chance to find a destination if you kept moving through the darkness, rather than stay and wallow in it. Each step seemed to pull me down slightly deeper into the liquid, which now completely compromised my sense of smell. In fact, the putrid stench was enough to make my eyes begin to sting and water, making it the 3rd sense to add to its death toll. Eerily, the stench was similar to the grime that I had previously encountered as I evaded the shroud, years prior. Yet another correlation I had seemed to have discovered...

Nevertheless, I kept going. I had to find something eventually in this grim dome of nothingness.

She did.

Suddenly, a distant spotlight appeared into view. Rather dim but piercing the lack of light in its surroundings. My eyes lit up at the sight of some form of brightness. I picked up my speed, sloshing through the sickening fluid to get to the spotlight as quick as I could. Surely there had to be some form of answer there. Or anything. At this point I didn't care about what the answer was. As long as there was an answer.

There was.

Closer and closer I came to it. Strangely, the light seemed to be shining upon a simple wooden table. Closer and closer. I then realised that, upon it, there was a small picture frame with something inside it. Closer. I was right next to it now. I could make out a faint picture with multiple people inside it. Once I had made it, I leaned against the table and looked closer at this clue.

A family. One I didn't recognise. There was a father, a mother and two children. I think a cat was there too. I don't remember too many details. Scouring closely to try and find any similarities to my life and theirs, I instead only could sense the stench of the fluid burning harder into my nostrils. Desperately, I grabbed the frame and flipped it onto it's back. A few numbers were all I saw, written in a thick, black pen.

18th of November, 2020.

What? That's... years away! Why is there a photo that is set around 70 years in the future?

Before I could even attempt to draw any conclusions for this, the figurative pen was snatched from my hand as pores of smoke began to spill out from nowhere. Coughing and spluttering, I backed away from the table, which was now completely unnoticeable from the fog blocking it. This signature smoke only symbolised one thing to me at this point; then it was no longer a symbol. A familiar silhouette began to rise and pass through the white steam. Instinctively, I flew backwards, stumbling until I lost balance and toppled onto the floor, soaking my clothes and leaving me helpless.

With nowhere to go, I watched as the same eyes fixed a stare at me; the same fists clench at the sight of me and the same voice spoke right at me...