Secretive - Bucky Barnes

14 || Ignited || 🌤

[Nova]

Darkness.

All I can see when I wake up is utterly darkness.

And weight pressing down on my body, heavily, like someone parked a truck right above my skin without the wheels holding it up.

Grunting, I try to move, but whatever I am buried underneath is sharp-edged and cold, making an escape seem impossible at first sight.

My head is empty. Not like memories were not there anymore; except for the most recent, but just... more careless. Busier with the current situation. Thoughts all puffed into nothingness in cause of the urgency to figure out why the hell I am still breathing.

I try to blink. Several times.

Finally, the tiniest shine of light crosses the path, and my eyes hold onto that. Although I cannot reach out, arms buried right next to my body like tied, I try to lift my head into the direction of the bright ray, closing my eyes rapidly right after. Knowing I could get the stones above me right into the eye, and blind myself in cause of carelessness and uncaution.

Gathering all my willpower, all the power in my muscles, I push again, long-term. In the first second, I can hear a rumble, like rocks rolling down a stack of more rocks. And I know the longer the push, the less effects. So I ease my muscles, and give more thrusts in less time differences. My thighs, my feet, my upper arms, my head, even my belly – I force my entire body upwards against the heavy rocks, and eventually, it works.

I can hear them rolling still, an ominous rattling across the surface, but when I dare to open my eyes, more light falls in, giving me the opportunity to have a better glance on my environment.

I definitely am buried. In stones. Like I suggested.

But the stones and other hard material has colours. Like seeing through a dark filter, I recognize a dark green, black, marble and gold. Bright colours, somewhat brighter than I ever imagined colours to be possible without a filter. It seems like I just woke up right in a comic, or one of those pretty children-books Jonas used to read to me when we were younger every evening, sneaking into my bedroom when we thought our parents would not notice, sometimes the whole night long.

For the first time, I inhale through my nose.

And am mesmerized.

A thousand smells at once. Gold, not just the colour but the material itself in a metallic taste. Different kinds of stones: volcanic, that has somewhat of ash and fire, marble, that smells clean and even a little like soap mixed with ice, and usual, common rocks, that rather smell like nature, like hardness and have a neutral scent within them.

And these smells are so intense, so damn intense. Like blackening every other sense out, trapping my mind to focus on the scents. Am I sick? How am I able to smell differences in stone variations? How am I able to tell which one is which?

Then, it hits me like a fry pan being swung right into my face.

Mount Fuji. Climbing. The temple. My memories. The black sticky liquid. The roof rumbling. Blackness overcoming. Me falling.

I am buried underneath the strange building that waited for me atop of a mountain in Japan.

Panic rises, and when it has been intense before, the double time of amount of adrenaline is profoundly acute running through my veins.

Before I can give it another thought, I push once more -

and send the stones atop me flying into every direction.