Written from Erza's perspective, as her final moments.
Erza's End.
I remember falling backwards. Not sure how I began this action, or where I was when I started. Just- falling. Glinting in a light that wasn't there, glass, sharp and jagged, fluttered like birds feathers far above me. I dropped into a wallow of seeping blackness so dark I couldn't see my hand. When I closed my eyes, bubbles of blue and slashes of green reaped my conscious. Gradual pressure, like stopping under water, pressed my back, slowing my decent.
Out of the dark came a shout, a muffled cry of monosyllabic desperation. "Erza!" I knew that name was important. Just…why? Because she was important to Jellal, and he was important to me. Was that Jellal shouting?
A fuzzy, creamy white filled my mind, and I soon find myself unable to remember who I was before my fall. The essence of my mind felt like putty. Some far off instincts told me to move, try and escape this place. I wasn't supposed to be here. Yet, I couldn't move, and wouldn't if I could anyway. What I was seeing was something beyond anything I'd ever seen before- a ghastly, earthly, horrid beauty of a life I could no longer remember.
I'd sunk beneath the blackness, and it was thinning into shades of lavender. Sudden pops and crackles filled my ears. Accompanying these were other sounds; shrieks and hisses, clicking, munching, snapping, sizzles, and explosions. Humming of long forgotten lullabies rung like church bells on a Sunday afternoon. Many languages planted seeds of beauty and temptation in my ears, numbing my already faint train of thought.
However, while these sounds were soft as one, when they were put together, they pierced my ear drums. Pain shot through my head, like someone had pulled the trigger to a gun while holding it to my ears. Agony brought tears to my eyes, and pain allowed me to rip my motionless hands to my head, holding my ears, though, to no avail.
For the first time, I became aware of the smell. It was sweet, yet sour, sickly, stingy- like blood. My blood? It manifested into thousands of different smells, until eventually, I couldn't smell anything anymore. A thick, moldy feeling slunk across my tongue, and I retched my stomach empty.
How do I leave this pain? Fear racked my already pain soaked body. I could think of only one way to leave, and it would mean never coming back
I…
Kept…
Falling….
If only I hadn't fallen...
And…
Broken the Glass…
I wouldn't be here…
And...
Then…
White engulfed me.
And.
Nothing.
Ahhhhh, fin. I hate writting deaths, but it's good practice. And to kill off Erza, what a horrible author I am. Well, tell me what you think? Is it any good? I took the idea from a paper I wrote waaay back in school that I was going to turn into a coma-then-recovery-then therapy story, but never got around to it. I may continue...but probably won't. R&R!