6 July 2012
I still haven't drawn it back on. I don't dare. I'm too scared of what would happen if I did. The last time I left my body, the lost souls dragged me down. I fled them as soon as I could, but they still left their mark on me, both emotionally and physically. I tried everything to soothe the pain, but it burned like fire. Ever since I had woken from that deep sleep, a scorching pain had arisen in my right cheek, where the first child had touched me. There is not a single mark on my face, though, and I know that someday I must return, but I had thought not until my body was no longer my own, and my soul walked free. I'm having second thoughts now. For almost two months, every dream I’ve had has been of the children and of their harrowing shrieks of pain. They grab my ankles and, as I’m about to awaken, drag me back into the dark, endless void. I yearn to return to the horizon by the glass sea and relieve them of their sorrow, but I know that I can’t. Of course, the pain in my face makes me think otherwise and I feel compelled to lie down on the bench once more, and leave my body to the cobwebs, again. Sometimes, the will is so strong, that I find my hand on the glass door, sliding the latch open. But, then, I always return to my dark room and to the nightmares of the lost souls. I think I’m going insane. Sometimes, I look at the sketches of the children lying on the couch and think about my decision. If I don’t return, I’ll spend every waking hour in pain and every night in torment, but, if I do return, I don’t know if I’ll ever find my body again. I thought I’d never come to a conclusion, but, in the end, I did. It found me in the depths of one of my nightmares and made me realise that there was something missing- I have never been in my body for more than three weeks at a time and my soul is aching to reach out again. I was trying to talk myself out of it when the pain came back, the worst I’ve ever had it before, and that did it- I know now what I must do, and nothing can stop me.
At the minute, the time reads 3:26am. I am tracing the Pentagram back on my left hand with the same black pen I used two months ago. Quickly and quietly, I slip the keys off the rack and hold them in my hand as I drag the door open. As I do so, it makes a loud scraping sound and an even louder one when I close and lock it. I walk with bare feet across the cold pavement, feeling my way through the darkness with my mind, touching all the obstacles with my thoughts before I reach them physically, like a bat. Once I reach the bench, I let the keys fall to the floor, where they make a loud clattering sound. Then, I take two steps forward and sit down on the icy bench, covered in even more cobwebs than last time. I take a deep breath and smell the most wonderful scent in the world, night. The night smells of distant smoke, running water, icicles, dew, flower buds, cold mint, fresh air and midnight grass. Still breathing in this dark tonic, I lie down on my back, my face landing in the cobwebs, and close my eyes. Everything is still, as if frozen in time- I can hear the sea about a mile away and sense the hundreds of birds nesting in the clifftops. I let my mind wander and slowly detach my soul, constantly filling myself with night and walking the garden with my thoughts. Very slowly, I open my eyes and sit up. I stand, turn carefully around and look down. I’ve done it, I’ve left my body behind, lying in cobwebs on a cold bench in the middle of the night. I now wonder why I didn’t bring a blanket, as the last time I did this, I was gone for three days and almost caught the flu when I returned. However, now is not the time to think of that, and I must do with just casting a ring of warmth around my empty body. As soon as this is done, I take another deep breath, turn around, and start walking towards the sea.
The glass sea is glinting in the starlight, its perfect surface reflecting the night sky flawlessly. Every inch of the water below is pitch black and numbingly cold to the touch. I carry on walking for hours, time frozen around me. Once I’m so far out to sea that I can’t see any land at all, I stop walking and take a look around. All I can see is night, above me, around me, below me and inside me, filling my heart with a chilling sensation of fear. I stand still for a few moments, and then, it happens. A hand reaches out and gently brushes my face, the hand of the same child that had touched me before. She looks older now, though, about nine, and has even wider eyes than before, dark black shadows forming thick rings around them, making them look even deeper set into her transparent skull than they actually are. As soon as my eyes meet hers, she grabs my wrist with a cold, white hand and pulls me towards her. Slowly, her lips move towards mine and, as she touches them, I feel a sudden twisting in my stomach. It feels as though my heart has stopped beating and all of my life is being drained away. I try to step back, but my legs are paralysed and rooted to the spot. I can't move.
My eyes are closed. All I can see is a pitch black blur, a soft blue glow pouring in through the edges of my vision. As I groggily open my eyes, I begin to slowly take in the scene around me. I am lying on cold, onyx tiles, surrounded by twinkling crystal walls. Everything has a kind of glassy tint to it, which gives off a chillingly surreal aura of foreboding. I can see children walking around the room as if in a trance, rusting iron chains linking them to each other. When I try to stand up, my head starts to spin violently and I almost collapse with vertigo, but catch myself just in time. There is a dull ache in my chest and I feel as though my heart has been wrenched out. I'm still trying to make sense of what's happening when one of the children break off from the chain and glide towards me. She looks about fifteen and has long white hair that half covers her pale face. When she speaks, she does so with a Spanish lilt to her soft voice and emphasises her words using hand gestures. "The tide will come in soon. And with it will come the rain. Please free me, I do not wish to be hurt again by the harsh waves. Help me, please. Hurry!" her voice is becoming frantic and increasing in volume, "Why are you still here? Go open the door! Stop them from coming in, tell them to go away!!" by this point, her hands are around my neck, shaking me violently, and she's yelling at the top of her voice, "You ignorant fool! Do something! I do not wish to be hurt again- make the sky fall, run the oceans dry for what they have done! Hurry! Don't let them catch me!!" Several other children are breaking from the chain now, each crying out their own plea. Soon enough, every soul in the room is shrieking at the top of their lungs, just like the first time I'd visited. However, this time, I have no means of escape, my left hand is bound by a tight cloth, and the ink is out of sight.
When I wake, I find my arms and legs bound to the wall with a tight cord of lace. In front of me stands the Spanish girl, a jade dagger in her hand. "How funny...." she muses, "that even in the darkest of times, hope can still be found, but, of course, miracles can only last so long. And this one has come to an end. You came just in time to drive off the storm through your kiss, but, now the symbol on your hand is gone. We have no further use for you now, you are powerless." as she advances, I feel a lurching in my stomach. Without thinking, I close my eyes and touch the tip of the dagger with my mind. It feels sharp, like a needle, and hurts me from within as I withdraw. A hand touches my face now, the hand of the nine year old from the glass ocean, her lips forming a slight smile as she whispers into my ear. I can't make out what she's saying, but she's undoing my bonds as she says it. The dagger is within an inch of my heart when it happens. Nothingness. A tunnel of nothingness before me and all around me. I know before I see it that it's going to be there, and so it appears, as if called by my thoughts, a panel of glinting golden light below me. When I land, everything stops for a while when it hits me, hard. A drop of frozen rain lands on my forehead and I reach up to brush it off, but, as I do so, it melts away, leaving nothing but the cold scent of night filling my lungs with the dark tonic once more.
Lost Soul (Soul Walker Sequel) • Opuss № I