Mistransalation

Lyra was far faster than me.

I had, using the best of my efforts, kept up with her for a rather long period of time. Through dingy alleyways and over barren streets, jittering our way across the town by way of a network of empty passageways. Lyra could have stopped for all she wanted and taken in the scenery as she waited for me to catch up, but she continued to run. I never questioned that I never lost sight of her; always finding her turning the corner before me, be it near or far. I would always see the heel of her shoe or her leg retreating out of sight just as I rounded the edge of a building. The signs urged me on, through my bleary eyes and complaining knees. My breath steamed in the air before me as I panted my way after my fugitive, refusing to give in and lose her yet another time.

Eventually, my bearing on both time and position evaporated. I had no clue as to whether or not Lyra knew her whereabouts, but I was thoroughly lost. Needless to say I had felt lost since I had arrived there, though now I truly had no idea which way was which. We passed through what appeared to be a main road, the sound of my own feet slapping unceremoniously on the tarmac being the only to grace the air. Then the road was gone, and an echo I had grown accustomed to came back to me, the same sound of my feet now bouncing all around my ears. Lyra's feet rounded yet another corner, and I followed.

The corner brought me to a long, long alley which stretched out until everything at its end became far too packed to have any of its qualities discerned. The very fact that I could see the opening startled me, and brought to my attention the lack of Lyra. Panicked, I began to run once more, jolting my weary legs into motion while I ached my way down the alley. The tall buildings to either side of me offered no windows to glean any understanding of my direction. I knew that I was closed into only one path, though where it was taking me I knew not. As I progressed in a flagging jog, the end of the passage became clearer. Red bricks by my side turned into solid grey, and then to a faded green, back into solid grey and flickering between the two as I passed the backs of individual buildings. At one point I was offered a wire fence which opened up into a yard of some description, providing me with nothing but a glimpse of more grey before I panted by, taking little heed of it.

The end grew closer with each of my slapping footfalls, dismissing my speculation on whether or not it was indeed a nightmarish extending corridor. As I neared my destination, I came to see how large the black building which stood before me was. When I came close enough to distinguish more detail, I briefly noted that the windows had no frames. There was no sign to denote what the building was, or what purpose it had ever served. Its blackened skeleton spoke of some untold fire which had raged outwards from within, leaving the very tops of the enduring walls leaning almost comically in towards the center. I broke out into the opening which held the factory-looking building, desserted cars and boxes littering the yard. I slowed to a welcome walk, stopping hesitantly before the large empty double doorway. I expected to see a sign, any sign, of Lyra. Staring into the darkness provided by the crumbling roof which slumped between the remaining walls, I was offered nothing but a foreboding whistle of a gentle breeze through some crumbled hole in the structure.

My first steps into the building were tentative at best. I dared not make so much as a thought of noise, holding my breath and treading as carefully as possible around the scattering of broken glass and wood which clothed the concrete floor. As much as I tried, I couldn't help but cause the occasional crunch or crackle underfoot, the sound seeming to fly out and reverberate around my ears, only worsening when I passed into a room whose floor consisted of tiny fragments of glass. My breath hitched as I winced with the noise, stopping in my tracks yet finding the noise continuing: though for only a second, I heard what seemed like the echo of my own movements.

Lyra saw the error in her prolonged movements and stood still like a rabbit in headlights when I turned to see her in the doorway. She hesitated as I stepped slowly towards her, glancing to either side of me and taking a step backwards, arms raised towards me. Her eyes, however, became progressively more sinister as I reached out a hand in a gesture of peace. Lyra's hand balled into a fist by her side, biting down on her lip and in the same movement lifting her hand and slapping it down onto mine. My arm fell uselessly down to my side, hand stinging in the wake of her hostility. It was then that she made a move towards me, appearing almost to blend into her dark surroundings with her snarling expression and promise of ferocity in her eyes. We changed roles, and I began to take the steps backwards. I raised my open-palmed hands in the same gesture, not knowing what else to do. It was completely beyond me to ever consider doing harm to Lyra, at least consciously so. I knew not what had changed in her, or why she saw fit to threaten me like that, but knew almost certainly that she would do me no real harm.

It was with that optimism that I stepped forwards to her, smile spreading across my lips as I reached my arms to try and encompass her shoulders. I made contact with her, or so I thought, as an intense pain suddenly flared up in my abdomen. My mouth flew open, involuntary gurgle escaping from me as the pain receded briefly, only to reappear higher up in my chest with a slight flicker of Lyra's arm and a decisive set of her jaw. A sickeningly wet, metallic sound emanated from my chest as her arm fell to her side once more. My vision fell blurry as I found myself to do anything but experience an unbearable pain I had never felt before. My hands went to my chest and stomach before falling limply in the air, covered in blood as the world span and my body fell down to Earth faster than my arms. They, too, slumped lifelessly by my side, fingers tensing and relaxing as I slowly found it increasingly difficult to feel my extremeties.

Though I made no move to make them, shameless groans escaped my throat as I made attempts to writhe on the floor, managing only to curl up painfully in a growing stain of my own blood on the floor. I shivered, having been overcome by what felt like an intense heat and a paralyzing cold, body convulsing against my will while I made every attempt to scrabble at invisible lifelines in the dark. It took all of my effort to roll onto my back, succeeding in nothing but furthering my own pain and finding myself so lacking in energy that I couldn't so much as groan my discomfort anymore.

It wasn't the first time that I had died during our journey to the town. However, something about this felt more certain. It felt more final, more absolute. As I lay there, somehow bleeding to death at the hands of the person I trusted with my life, I felt my energy slip from me in a way which seemed utterly different to anything I had experienced before.

My vision faded to nothing; darkness replaced the image of perhaps the only person I had ever truly cared for, the same person who now stood victoriously snarling down at me.