Ch.1 Dying

I know it is happening. Death has been standing over my left shoulder for days, weeks now, and he's at last put his bony fingers on my bony shoulder. It's not really so terrible, I think. It's rather like sinking backward into a dark pool of water, deep and endless. Something tries to fight deep inside myself, my body giving one last instinctual heave at living, but that too quiets.

Sudden, jarring light fills my vision, and my skin feels like it's been doused in lightening. I wonder why it is that the Afterlife has such a strange entry. I wonder where it is that I'm going, what judgement shall pass on my soul...or if I have one still.

Will I beg for mercy? Will I expect leniency in the face of my...face? No. I shall not. I do not regret, terrible as it is, but it is the truth. I have done my deeds, and I shall face whatever it is that awaits me.

Again, my skin tingles and burns, and this time my whole body feels like it's leaping up, twisting. My eyes snap open. My vision is blurred, and I can't quit the twitching of my fingers, my legs. There are voices speaking around me, but I can't understand what it is they're saying.

"He's alive," one of them announces, sounding vaguely triumphant, as if they had personally gone to the other side and yanked me back.

"I know," a quieter voice says. My line of sight is darkened as someone leans over me. I blink furiously, trying to understand. She, and yes, I can see it is indeed female now, lifts her eye coverings, bizarre things of black glass that dominate her face. "Erik," she murmurs, "I've been looking for you."

"I'm...quite accomplished...at...hiding," I wheeze. She smiles.

Then she touches my hand and everything breaks apart and vanishes.

*********************

The bright white of everything is making my skin crawl today. I'm pensive and irritable, so they've let me be to pace about my small room. Seven steps from the bed to the wall. Five steps to the door. Back again. Again. There's a knock at my door.

The Commandent enters. He throws my goggles at me, and I don't reach out to catch them. He huffs, then bends to fetch them for me. He roughly yanks the strap over my head, catching it on my hair. I'm too distracted to care, or to care that he's muttering at me the whole time. My voice feels like it's gone.

I'm vaguely aware that he's leaving, but the edges bleed into everything. I grasp for him, catching his sleeve. My vision is spotty and painful. "Wait."

He stops, eyeing me curiously. "What do--"

"I've found him."

Everytime it feels like dying, and this time is no different. The abrupt plunge into darkness is welcome, but something is wrong... The pull is too much for me this time, and I stumble so hard and frequently that one of the others has taken hold of the back of my vest and is all but dragging me along.

We're close... I can feel him. Now I can see him.

He sees me.