Fanalis By Body, Valentine By Soul.

Chapter 2 - The 'Rebirth'

White.

White noise.

'SOMEONE, PLEASE! MAKE IT STOP!' I cried, desperately trying to understand what was going on as i seemingly floated in such a self-proclaimed innocent colour.

My cries were instantly muffled, even though i never actually spoke them. Every time i even attempted to do such a thing, my mouth refused to cooperate, so i was left with the mental strain of silently suffering. (Last time i checked, no one could read minds).

True to my earlier statement, white noise seemed to of infected my ears with its sharp incessant ringing. However, i had never heard a sound such as this before and i wondered whether it was the noise emitted from the Defibrillation? I wasn't sure though, because what i had heard of it on television, had sounded completely foreign against this.

Going back to white, people mistook it for black.

I had read many stories of those who had been 'Reborn', so to say (although, they didn't technically die, so...? But, i suppose they came out of a second womb so, that's acceptable, at least) and they described 'dying' as a black peaceful abyss that seemed to cause an unnerving shiver to break throughout their very being.

I didn't see black, but i had deduced that the idea had stemmed from the colour of which you saw when you closed your eyes from the bright glow of white.

That was the only theory i could make and, i suppose it would be the only one i could 'test' because, as soon as i closed my eyes, i seemingly dropped into a black bucket of ice and wondered if it was possible to drown in one's own mind.

{~~~~~~~~~~~}

I didn't need anymore theories or, 'tests' as i put it. I know knew exactly where the idea of blackness came from.

I blinked.

I then blinked because i could blink.

I involuntarily flinched as i flexed my hands.

'W-What's going on..?' I questioned, looking down at my la- well, the lap of whoever's body i had inhabited (stole, per say).

Their hands were small, ridiculously so, yet, they were not hands of an infant. (This body was more likely on the verge of being a toddler, give or take a couple of months).

Underneath my newly obtained (fragile) arms, was a cream rag. Now, i assumed this rag to cover my whole body as the colour and fabric seemed similar to those that stood in front of me. It was rough and frayed at the edges, the edges in which stopped about an inch above my bony knees.

I assumed this child was pretty rough when playing, if the few cuts and scrapes on their legs gave anything away.

I was currently sitting on a huge rock (Boulder?) in the middle of nowhere, literally. All there was to see was dust and dirt- i even saw a ball of twigs roll by!

Looking up from my scraped and - currently bleeding - knees, I let out a huge sigh (it could, however, be interpreted as annoyance, per say). I didn't really have time to ponder on the very thought as i was unappreciatively brought out of them.

"Egyptia? Are you ok, honey?"

'What the blasphemy-!' My eyes bugged out of their sockets before i swiftly shut them and pretended nobody said anything.

"You're spacing out, dear," a much older voice asked, the age gap was considerably large as it seemingly croaked out the question.

I slowy opened my eyes, eyelashes fluttering a few times before they settled on the four figures in front of me-!