Falls the Shadow
Summary: When Edmund wakes one morning, he has a feeling that his dream wasn't just a nightmare. But to save himself from a fate worse than death, Edmund must act quickly. Will it be enough?
Disclaimer: The title is taken from T.S. Eliot's poem, "The Hollow Men", which led to much inspiration for this story. Many of the ideas for the chapters and the story in general came from the poem, which I reference often. I don't own it or any Narnian elements either.
Author's Note: This story has been floating around in my head for a long, long while. I have the idea of the story thought out, but I didn't want to post anything until I was done with "Through Shadow and Fire". However, I decided to post this as a preview, of sorts, of this story, though I will not devote much time to it until my other story is completely finished. Sorry for the length of the prologue, but it was needed for the effect I wanted to create. Following chapters will be longer with more substance. This story is new to me as I will be posting completely in Edmund's point of view.
Prologue
The Hollow Men
We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats' feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar
-The Hollow Men-
Freezing. Burning. Ice. Fire. Pain. I felt these things all at once. I blinked, unsure of my location. Where was I? How had I gotten here? Had I lost my mind? Where was "here"?My thoughts flooded through me, yet I could not recall anything that had happened. Was I dreaming? Was I awake? Was I alive? I knew nothing, except the chill of the bleak night in which I found myself.
The cold seem to seep into the marrow of my bones, and I could not repress the shivers. It was biting and all together. . . unnatural. I was unsure of everything, but I knew this was not right. This was not supposed to be.
Either it got lighter or my eyes adjusted to the darkness, but I began to be able to see the outlines of inky shapes against a gray sky. I knew that I was outside and that it was night, though I could not recall how I knew these things.
These . . . beings . . . , they were pushing at me, pulling at me. They were searching me with wisps of fog. I felt a cold in my bones unlike any I had ever experienced before. I shuddered. I felt as if I was being laid bare.
The cold beings pushed their wispy figures upon me, causing me to draw inward as far as I could, but there was n where to go. They made a low, guttural sound, but if they were speaking I could not understand. All I knew was that they were slowly breaking me inside and I just wanted their searching to end.
They came in scores now, pressing down upon me, each one of their fog-like silhouettes tearing me open, searching me. It was not quite pain, but it was discomforting. There are no words to describe what I felt.
What did they want from me? I writhed in agony, feeling hollow fingers push against my skin. Whether it was dream or delusion, the pain was real.
I cried out. They had broken me. They were evil, soulless creatures. They pressed upon me until I wanted to blackout, though a small part of me realized I couldn't. With all my strength, I searched for reality.
