Chapter Three: Coldburn
I'm alone.
I'm wandering through the streets of Nagasaki, the familiar streets I've strolled along so many times I could find my way with my eyes
closed. It's a perfect day; the sun is shining brightly, people are chattering and laughing and eating ice cream, and I have all the time
in the world.
It's not until I stop by an ice cream stand that I realise something is wrong. The man selling the ice cream looks at me, with indifferent
eyes, and then ignores me completely. When I try to get his attention again, he pretends I'm not even there. People push and shove to get
past me, and finally I give up and walk away. I realise I feel even the most forceful pushes as mere brief, cold touches; it seems like I
have a shell that prevents anything from really getting to me. I know there is a road under my feet, but the sun-warmed bricks and even the
grass at the side of the road feel like cold, hard stone.
I swim through the city, and everyone flows by me, their touches distant and eyes cold. After a while I see the colours have started to fade
too, along with the real sensations, and everything is painted in dull, cold tones, and the sun is the colour of pale moon. People's faces
turn from uncaring to disdainful. Instead of hurrying past me, they stop and stare, their eyes full of unmasked contempt, and even the brief,
cool touches are suddenly denied to me. I don't deserve them. I disgust them.
I can hardly feel the ground under my feet, and struggle to find something to grab, something that is real and there and proves that I can
still touch...
And now I truly am alone.
I'm running. How is it possible to do something so *evil*, so wrong, that would make them treat me like this? I don't know what I've done,
but I'm *sorry*, I'm so very, very sorry, and I wish they would let me pay for my sins. But even that is denied to me, and now I'm screaming,
just to hear a voice other than an accusation, and the cold numb feeling is spreading ---
Someone! There must be - it can't be - Hisoka!
And when I see the hate on his face it's somehow the worst, the bitter accusation. I fall on my knees, finding no reason to try to get away
anymore. The cold wind reaches me, the accusing voices, the scornful eyes. I let it wash over me, unable to do anything to stop it. It washes
away all that I am, everything. All essence seems to flee me... nothing stays behind. And now everything is just an ice blue blur...
I gasp for breath. C-cold...
White ceiling over me. My hand is on my brow, and I move the fingers instinctively, and they are shaking slightly, but definitely not frozen.
There's a blanket covering my shivering body, and I feel somewhat numb. I have no strength for much anything, and I close my eyes. I'm cold.
I concentrate on just breathing for a long while. A horrible dream... not much more so than most of my dreams, come to think of it, but... I
don't know if I'm awake yet, and that makes me so very scared. I may be cold, but I-I'm not alone, am I? Not so terribly alone... I can still
feel, and touch, and there is still something I can do...
Gathering all my strength, I sit up and push the blanket off. It did little to warm me, anyway. This cold comes from inside. What is this
place, and where is everyone? Where is Hisoka? I'm still in the mortal world. How did I come to this place? Everything is looks white and
cold, and I can't hear anything except my own ragged breaths...
And then it strikes me. I haven't woken up yet.
I struggle against the silence, the emotionless calm that surrounds me.
The mists shatter. The cold flees. I scream, although I have no voice. A sudden pain pierces my hand, a real and tangent feeling that I've
already almost forgot existed. It's burning me, as real and true as the sudden feel of blood flowing in my veins again. The warmth spreads
from the tips of my fingers, rushing through my veins, searching for my heart. I feel myself sighing... or perhaps it is just the sound of
blood boiling. It hurts, yes, it burns like hellfire, but it's so much better than the empty cold.
Someone is near.
I'm not alone.
~~~
Why yes, I'm depressed. However did you guess? This wasn't one of my best, but it had to be written. Chapter Four will be posted within a week, so stay tuned.
I'm alone.
I'm wandering through the streets of Nagasaki, the familiar streets I've strolled along so many times I could find my way with my eyes
closed. It's a perfect day; the sun is shining brightly, people are chattering and laughing and eating ice cream, and I have all the time
in the world.
It's not until I stop by an ice cream stand that I realise something is wrong. The man selling the ice cream looks at me, with indifferent
eyes, and then ignores me completely. When I try to get his attention again, he pretends I'm not even there. People push and shove to get
past me, and finally I give up and walk away. I realise I feel even the most forceful pushes as mere brief, cold touches; it seems like I
have a shell that prevents anything from really getting to me. I know there is a road under my feet, but the sun-warmed bricks and even the
grass at the side of the road feel like cold, hard stone.
I swim through the city, and everyone flows by me, their touches distant and eyes cold. After a while I see the colours have started to fade
too, along with the real sensations, and everything is painted in dull, cold tones, and the sun is the colour of pale moon. People's faces
turn from uncaring to disdainful. Instead of hurrying past me, they stop and stare, their eyes full of unmasked contempt, and even the brief,
cool touches are suddenly denied to me. I don't deserve them. I disgust them.
I can hardly feel the ground under my feet, and struggle to find something to grab, something that is real and there and proves that I can
still touch...
And now I truly am alone.
I'm running. How is it possible to do something so *evil*, so wrong, that would make them treat me like this? I don't know what I've done,
but I'm *sorry*, I'm so very, very sorry, and I wish they would let me pay for my sins. But even that is denied to me, and now I'm screaming,
just to hear a voice other than an accusation, and the cold numb feeling is spreading ---
Someone! There must be - it can't be - Hisoka!
And when I see the hate on his face it's somehow the worst, the bitter accusation. I fall on my knees, finding no reason to try to get away
anymore. The cold wind reaches me, the accusing voices, the scornful eyes. I let it wash over me, unable to do anything to stop it. It washes
away all that I am, everything. All essence seems to flee me... nothing stays behind. And now everything is just an ice blue blur...
I gasp for breath. C-cold...
White ceiling over me. My hand is on my brow, and I move the fingers instinctively, and they are shaking slightly, but definitely not frozen.
There's a blanket covering my shivering body, and I feel somewhat numb. I have no strength for much anything, and I close my eyes. I'm cold.
I concentrate on just breathing for a long while. A horrible dream... not much more so than most of my dreams, come to think of it, but... I
don't know if I'm awake yet, and that makes me so very scared. I may be cold, but I-I'm not alone, am I? Not so terribly alone... I can still
feel, and touch, and there is still something I can do...
Gathering all my strength, I sit up and push the blanket off. It did little to warm me, anyway. This cold comes from inside. What is this
place, and where is everyone? Where is Hisoka? I'm still in the mortal world. How did I come to this place? Everything is looks white and
cold, and I can't hear anything except my own ragged breaths...
And then it strikes me. I haven't woken up yet.
I struggle against the silence, the emotionless calm that surrounds me.
The mists shatter. The cold flees. I scream, although I have no voice. A sudden pain pierces my hand, a real and tangent feeling that I've
already almost forgot existed. It's burning me, as real and true as the sudden feel of blood flowing in my veins again. The warmth spreads
from the tips of my fingers, rushing through my veins, searching for my heart. I feel myself sighing... or perhaps it is just the sound of
blood boiling. It hurts, yes, it burns like hellfire, but it's so much better than the empty cold.
Someone is near.
I'm not alone.
~~~
Why yes, I'm depressed. However did you guess? This wasn't one of my best, but it had to be written. Chapter Four will be posted within a week, so stay tuned.