Inspired by “Into Silence” by Vindsvept
It’s dark. It’s cold. You’re wounded, every nerve on fire, choking on your fear and tears.
Soft blue light comes near – the glow of a crystal orb held by a figure wrapped in a pale cloak. “Easy. I won’t hurt you.”
Your mind flies. Who are you? What are you? Where am I? But you can’t get the words out. Only a pathetic whimper escapes your lips.
The figure kneels in front of you. You can’t see his face. Your vision’s too blurry. “What happened?” he gently asks.
You remember being mauled, slammed into the ground, claws ripping into your flesh, something unholy snaking up your veins. Pain is the one word that sticks, but your tongue has forgotten how to move.
“Can you talk?”
You shake your head no. The world continues to spin around you once you stop.
“Give me your hand.”
You look up into the oval that must be his face. You reach out a shaking hand toward it. In the darkness, you feel his fingers curl around your hand. He pulls you to your feet. You cling to him, dizzy, nauseous, weak. He rubs your shoulder. “I’ll take you someplace safe,” he promises you.
The sickness ebbing, you loosen your grip, and he unwraps himself from your awkward embrace. Your arm around his shoulders and his arm around your waist, he says, “Lean on me,” and guides you forward. Your legs obey him, carrying you along a path your heavy eyes cannot see. The steady rhythm of your footsteps calms you, repeatedly assuring you that, at least, you are no longer alone. The footsteps melt into the sounds of night before fading softly into nothing.
©2019 Joyce Lewis. All rights reserved.