335Writer: I still don't know how to indent the italicised paragraphs. So I'm trying out this way of centering it. If you find that hard to read, please let me know.
.
.
.
Title: Haunting the forgotten
Chapter 2: Are you going to eat me now?
They say the thoughts of those who are close to death are always of the past and the regrets they're leaving with. In that case, I suppose it's nothing strange for me to be thinking of my childhood friend and the man I almost married.
I wonder if they're thinking of me as well?
The darkness changed.
She sensed an indefinable shifting of boundaries that she couldn't explain. Her eyes, already bested by the dark, nevertheless attempted to catch the slightest wan glimmer that might bring with it even the merest wisp of sight. Nothing rewarded her efforts except for a shifting of the shadows that could be nothing more than imagination. And yet she was certain that something was happening. She felt it... an almost imperceptible something that made her tingle all over.
Someone's coming.
Slowly, stealthily, the source of the disturbance was approaching. Her muscles tensed involuntarily in preparation, only to come up against the restraining ropes. The smells in her nostrils were more pronounced, seemingly augmented by fresh scents newly stirred up. At the same time, the sounds in her ears were increasingly muted, as if every creature that made a noise were suddenly holding its breath at a new intrusion.
Or something.
And there it was: very soft, but unmistakably new and different from the sounds that had surrounded her... the sound of breathing. She wasn't alone anymore.
"Who's there?"
At her voice, silence overtook the darkness. There was no echo. The darkness simply swallowed up every syllable, dulling the edge of panic in the utterance.
It'd better be the 'who' it's supposed to be. Or else... I'm in serious trouble.
She waited, straining her ears against the suffocation of sightless silence to concentrate on finding a sound that could be interpreted as a response to her question. At the same time, she tried to block out every other sound, from the distant sound of water to her own racing pulse and rapid breathing. Her efforts were eventually rewarded: a long exhalation of air—just shy of a sigh—left whatever presence that was there with her.
One part of me is genuinely curious as to what is here with me.
Another part wants to scream in raw terror.
And a third part is just relieved that the waiting's finally over.
She gasped at the first physical contact against a bare thigh. Beyond that, her body was unable to react with any definite movement. The first touch was immediately followed by a series of light strokes going rapidly up the length of her body and ending at her cheek, lingering there for a moment. Her skin tingled at each touch, though it caused her no discomfort other than a light tickling sensation. She took the exploration in silence, considering the significance of what she was experiencing.
I don't think it's a something that's here, but a someone. Because what touched me... felt very much like fingers... on human hands.
The silence stretched on, taxing her composure to breaking point.
If the person that's here is indeed who he's supposed to be, why hasn't he identified himself? Unless he means me harm... I don't like this at all.
"My name is Jayyeas!" she declared defiantly into the void.
It's not fair. I'm about to be eaten by someone or something and it's not even the one that's supposed to eat me.
But at least now I know that whatever or whoever is going to eat me would do so knowing my name.
There was no answer, as before. But she had the sense that her visitor was considering her words carefully.
Maybe whoever is there is just waiting for me to pass out so that I'll be easier to deal with. I imagine a struggling, screaming meal would not be very appealing, not to mention a lot harder to get a start on.
She endured another long pause, pregnant with possibility, adding to the burden on her intolerably tested nerves.
I never expected this to be easy. But I'd thought it would be quick, or if not quick, then at least I would be senseless when it happens. So why am I awake... and still waiting?
She tried to turn towards the presence, but failed. Her body had abandoned her, rendered immobile by the drugs coursing in her blood. With one last surge of determination, she wrested back her voice.
"Are you going to eat me now?"
I probably shouldn't have asked that. I might as well have said "So eat me already!"
But it's who I am. Impulsive to a fault.
.
.
Whoever it is, I hope I give him—or it—indigestion.
In response to her words, the area of darkness directly in front of her face blazed suddenly with what seemed to her overly sensitised eyes like the light of the sun. She gasped and closed her eyes, but she was a fraction of a second too late. The patch of pure radiance that was burned into her retinas blinded her. Her limbs twitched spasmodically in a reflex reaction to shield her eyes, only to be frustrated by the ropes holding them fast. A long, eye-wateringly painful moment passed.
She reopened her eyes. Slowly, a blurred outline took shape in her vision: a familiar shape rendered alien by the incongruence of its setting. It took her bewildered mind some time to recognise it as a finger, or more accurately, a disembodied finger. The digit glowed, not with the harsh, white-hot glare of the sun, but rather a gentle daylight that bathed its immediate surroundings in a warm luminosity before the light diffused into the darkness. The rest of the hand, if there was one, remained invisible in the cloaking darkness, making it appear as if the finger were floating in mid-air.
Relief filled her and stilled her racing thoughts, though it did nothing to slow the rushing of her pulse. Only one person was capable of this. There was now no more possible mistake over the identity of the person who shared the darkness with her. The owner of the glowing finger was none other than the one who would end the torment of her waiting – the Golden One. Her earlier defiance and trepidation melted with this recognition, to be replaced by a deep calm.
I feel no fear. Everything is as it should be. My death will sustain the Golden One and keep everyone in the colony safe... father, mother, Vivelin, Mashae, the little ones we haven't had the naming ceremony for yet... and Wylin.
Wylin... In my heart, a sudden stab of pain. I hope he has all the children he longs for with whoever takes my place. And I hope they all live well past their naming ceremony, and survive the next attack by the Dragoul.
"DRAGOUL." I shiver even at the word.
I have to do this. The Golden One is the only thing that stands between us and them.