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Edicius
to come back to life, to crave more than what was once given
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One day he wakes up and all of the pain stops.
His eyelids feel like the heaviest things in the world. It takes time, but eventually he is able to open them. He assumes he has gone blind when the first thing he sees is darkness. It is something he would be okay with actually. A creature like him doesn't deserve a simple pleasure like sight.
An overwhelming feeling of regret immediately washes over him, and he isn't even aware of why. Why doesn't he deserve to see anything; what made him think that? He suddenly wants to close his eyes and go back to sleep – if sleeping was what he was doing. But he feels like he's actually accomplished something small, but very necessary, in just opening his eyes. What point would there be to stop now?
Carefully, he spreads his arms out around him. The ground feels hard and cold. Almost like cement. He's…lying down on cement? Why? It turns out he hasn't gone blind after all because, very slowly, the area around him becomes clear. At least, more clear than it originally was. More clear than darkness.
It looks like a cavern. Almost. The open space surrounding him is massive. Numerous staircases that seem to lead nowhere clutter unspecific areas and large, creaking birdcages – perhaps large enough to trap a human – hang from the ceiling. In fact, there is one hanging above him, swaying back and forth ominously.
It sounds more like a scream every time it creaks.
He stays on the ground, eyes following the cage with each swing, as he wonders. Just where is he exactly? How did he get here? And for how long has he been lying on the ground like this? Not for too long, he hopes. That seems awfully unproductive.
He decides to stop thinking and try to get up. At first he hurriedly assumes this will be easy but it ends up being ridiculously difficult. He doesn't know where to start.
Does he start with his legs or his arms or…or what?
He decides to lift himself off of the ground using his elbows. When one at a time doesn't work, he tries both and pushes. Seems natural enough. He manages to sit up all on his own. He has a feeling he shouldn't feel as proud as he is. A lot more of this weird place is visible once he sits up. It's all just more wonky staircases and birdcages though.
Getting on his feet is the hardest part. When he first tries to stand, his legs wobble uncontrollably and he falls on his face. A little angry about his failure, he quickly tries again. This time he falls on his butt and the next on his side, which actually hurts. He has a feeling that will bruise.
On his fourth try, he takes it slow. He unbends his knees, allowing his legs to adjust before inching himself to his full height. He's actually…very tall. At least he feels tall. Once his body is comfortable with the idea of standing, he walks. Not all at once, of course. He takes gentle, steady steps in no particular direction.
He doesn't know if it's from teaching – reteaching? – himself how to walk or not, but he feels very pleased with himself all of a sudden. Still, he has no idea where he is and maybe it would be a good idea to leave?
Something else catches his attention first: a dark object that seems to be the center of this place, out in the open. A globe. And a funny looking one, at that. The seas don't exist at all. They are nothing more than empty space between the continents which are polluted with bright lights. There isn't an abundance of them though. He goes through the trouble of counting them, which ends up being no trouble at all actually, because there are only twenty-seven of them… Twenty-seven what, exactly?
Curious, he pokes one. He almost expects it to burn or something, but nothing happens. He pokes it and it remains unchanged. How strange. Before he can dwell on the purpose of the lights, he leaves the globe.
Now, how is he going to get out of here?
For hours he ventures this strange, dreary place, and still cannot find the exit. He's walked on the staircases that aren't hanging impossibly off the walls and, like he predicted, they really do lead nowhere. He's followed apparent pathways that lead into dark, dark places, or places he has already been. Starting to feel a little counterproductive, he begins to wonder if there even is an exit.
There is always the option of making his own, but the question is, how?
That's when he finds it – the exit. Or, at least, what used to be an exit. He looks up at several feet of confined space and a clogged hole. He's underground. He feels a bit dumb for not having realized this earlier.
The dirt looks like it hasn't been touched in a long, long time. It looks too compact, too tough. He vaguely wonders if someone wanted to get rid of him and this, this is a tomb of sorts. He can't imagine why anyone would want to lock him away, unless he is meant to be dead or something. That actually doesn't seem like too bad of a guess.
Still, he has no idea how he's going to dig himself out of here. And if he tried, how successful he would be. He grimaces. How inconvenient. He really does not fancy the idea of being stuck here forever.
He retraces his steps until he finds his way back to the globe. He half-heartedly counts the lights again. Twenty-six. Wait, twenty-six? He counts again, and again, until yes – there are only twenty-six now. He wonders why. …Maybe he just miscounted the first time?
He paces around the globe once, twice, and then he is off again, exploring. He just discovers more of what he has already seen. It makes this place seem smaller, somehow. There is only so much stairs and birdcages and odd angles can do for him. But before he retreats back to the globe, the only truly unique object in this entire place, he sees something that catches his interest.
A throne.
It's nothing incredibly fancy, but definitely worthy of admiration. It appears to be made out of smooth black marble. The back of it bursts out into swirls and tendrils that reach up at least a few yards high. White gemstones decorate the throne, becoming more and more concentrated as they reach the highest point of it. He curiously runs his hand along one of its arms. A king's throne, perhaps?
He takes a seat and immediately feels a familiarity, like he belongs here. It's strange, but also comforting. This is the most comfortable he's felt since he woke up. He decides that he'll stay like this for a while.
And he does.
He does for as long as he can. Two days to be exact. Not that he would be aware of any sort of measured time outside of birdcages screaming through silence. A greater sound practically forces him to get up. It's splintering and he's almost positive that the world around him is falling apart.
Some of it actually is.
He stares in disbelief as the ground cracks and separates between his feet. He quickly moves to the globe, as if it will offer him some sort of protection. He watches in amazement as the crack spreads to the walls and breaks those apart as well. The entirety of the area shakes, causing several birdcages to break from their chains and fall loudly to the ground, bending, breaking. They hum through the vibrations the ground causes. Very gradually, everything stops moving. The dust that is left thick in the air begins to dissipate. And then
has he really gone blind now?
A beam of light points at him, shining directly in his face. Although not incredibly bright, he finds himself repelled by the light, and immediately turns away, almost hissing. But this is it, he realizes. Moving closer to the light, to the opening the light is bleeding through, he realizes that this is his way out, his exit.
How convenient.
He's slender enough; he might be able to just slip through. A little cautious, he puts a leg through the opening. And then another. Until he is fully out in the open, out of that dark place. Once both feet hit the ground, he carefully steps over the crack – the one that basically freed him – that has been embedded deeply into the earth. His eyes follow its trail in the ground as it grows larger. He looks back at the opening. He really can't believe it. Such dumb luck. He almost grins to himself but is quickly distracted by the environment around him.
He's not going to lie – if he was expecting anything, it wasn't this.
Everything looks…incredibly bleak, incredibly sad. Buildings stand merely as heaps of their former selves. Cars are demolished, overturned, rusting. Where homes have caved in, overwhelming amounts of clutter lay untouched. And it's empty. The only notable living things are a couple of rotting trees. All of this was not caused by that…earthquake, he assumes. No, definitely not. He's not sure how or why, but conditions have been like this for a while. Suddenly spending eternity in a dark cavern-like place doesn't seem so bad. But he has to admit, this is interesting. He should at least check it out.
He carefully surveys the streets of what used to look like a nice little town. He feels like he's looking for something. Probably people. He wonders if there are any here. Going through abandoned homes and stores and schools, it seems like there aren't any. Which is a shame. He could really go for a conversation right now. If someone could at least tell him where he is and why it's like this, that would be wonderful.
He stops by the steps of a hospital. People go to places like these when they aren't feeling well, right? Chances are someone might be here. There is a huge gash in the double doors, but they are already open anyway. He walks in. To his immediate right is a receptionist desk. The top half of a swivel chair sits on the desk, along with an unhooked telephone and some broken pieces of glass. Carefully, he grabs a large piece of glass, examining it for really no good reason. He gets a glimpse of his face in it. He drops the glass, a little startled. Is that what he looks like?
Quickly, he decides to move on. He goes down a corridor of, what he can assume, are rooms for patients. He opens the doors that he is able to, and leaves the ones alone that are locked. Each room is very different in which contents they contain. One has an overturned bed surrounded by crates and empty cans while another is full of tattered pillows. Skeletons fill other rooms. He has to stop looking after a while. Whether the rooms are filled with the dead or only remnants of them, it all makes him feel unbearably miserable.
He figures it would be best to get out of this town. To get away from all of this, at the very least. It's pretty obvious that most, if not all, of the people that were here are now gone. He could look in other places, but he doesn't know how much more of this he can handle without ruining his mood even more. He starts to go back the way he came.
Clack.
His eyes drift to his feet. …Did he just kick something? All of a sudden, the air turns brisk with a foreign coldness. A thin layer of ice crackles as it covers the surrounding floor and walls. A light gush of wind engulfs his body for the briefest of seconds. Despite the shivers that quake through his body, he is perfectly still.
What is this?
Slowly, but as efficiently as he can, he turns around to find what he hopes is the source of the cold, to at least have it explained. His eyes widen at the presence of a boy. A boy with an armful of collected goods and a deep blue cloak, embroidered with delicate frost patterns, that swallows up most of him. Neither of them moves for the longest time.
Until finally, with his free hand, the boy slowly pulls back the hood of his cloak to reveal an almost terrified face. His lips are horribly chapped, ripped, and bruised. His face is slightly discolored, as if it has suffered from the terrible effects of frostbite. His eyes are a brilliant blue. The dark marks underneath them somehow emphasize this. On his head of white hair is a small crown that appears to be made out of icicles.
This boy… He isn't entirely human, is he?
The boy moves his lips, as if he wants to say something, but no words or sounds escape him. Shivering, the other waits patiently. He's freezing but it's not like he has to be anywhere. And he is terribly curious. Again, the boy's lips move, and this time – this time – with such shock that cracks his pretty voice when he speaks.
"Pitch?"
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I'm terrible at writing multiple chapter fanfictions, I know. That's why I usually only write one-shots. I'm going to try to make this several chapters long. I've already started the second chapter, so that's always a good start, right? Basically, I'm not promising anything but I'm going to try. Feel free to leave a review.