Unanswered

A/N: Interpret this the way you wish. I know this sounds different then what I normally write, but this type of story has a different purpose. Hence, a different type of writing style. If you want, google the meaning of the name Anat, derivative of Anath in Hebrew. This might help explain something, or not.

--x 

The moment before the sand sprayed carelessly across Anat’s eyes she spotted a dot of blue. The sand blurred the soft orange and glittering gold of the desert forcing Anat to lose that very precious singular blue. She tasted the salted and grainy sand from that desert that left a terrible taste in her mouth. The desert heat caused droplets of sweat to form on her brow. Anat longed for water. She craved for the cold blue that would quench her thirst. Water had become a sort of epicurean delight. It was no longer a limitless pool. It had become a luxury.

She heaved heavily. The wind ran across her hair freeing the dark curly hair from the heavy cloak. Her white dress was speckled with Red. Her cheeks were flushed. Exasperated she collapsed into the sand that, then displaced flew up into the air and fell back unto her body. She grunted and allowed her eyes to trickle with the last drops of moisture. Her tear ducts were now dried up. Wisps of hair licked her face as the wind picked up.

The sun became a guide solely to her. The sand became the playful thing that would tease her only. The wind became voices that spoke only to her. Her past reverberated through the wind’s cryptic language which only Anat could decipher. Never had she felt more alone. In the distance, the blue returned as a sparkle in the far off horizon. She stood up and stayed like that. For some time she became an unmovable column.

For a long moment she stood and watched while orange melted with the dark purples that began to spread across the skies. Gold was dabbed into the canvas as dots that shimmered and twinkled. For a moment Anat wondered what the answers to the question of the universe could be. That moment quickly subsided as dehydration began to take its toll.

Anat continued on toward the blue speck in the distance. There was no way to be sure if it truly was the water she so hungrily craved. However, with no other leads the only other thing she could do was simply quit. She could lay and wait until her body decomposed and slowly seeped into the earth. However, she was not ready to simply give up.

The sweet sickening smell of an exotic flower began to emerge. It was like the sweetest of honey and roses drowned in blood and metals. It was so overwhelming yet alluring. Her hand began to tremble and her body began to shake. She hadn’t realized she was hungry. Her stomach was an empty pit that couldn’t be content. She attempted to locate the source of the aroma yet found none.

Instead, her eyes found whirls of elegant cloth that paraded around her. Yet, when she squinted her eyes it looked more like puffs of smoke shaped into the hourglass figures of woman.  The puffs of smoke whirled around becoming shapeless. They joined again to fabricate the loveliest of faces. Several lovely beings floated around, never entirely being a whole. Their eyes now began to encompass the whole of the universe into their eye sockets s. In contrast, their figures were transparent and not nearly as solid as their eyes.

The strange creatures whispered her name. Anat, Anat. The answer, the answer. The voices grew louder and louder confusing and paralyzing her. Then suddenly they disappeared. It was like a sand storm that picked up the tiny granules and released them elsewhere never to be seen again.

For a moment she was bewildered. What could those spirits possibly be telling her? Were they just hallucinations caused by her dehydration? She let go of the idea deciding that it’d be more prudent to use her energy to reach the oasis. Anat glared at the twinkling lights in the sky. Two, the brightest lights in the sky, were dancing about in the utmost resplendent way. There dancing entertained Anat’s eyes. They began to grow brighter and bigger. Suddenly the light burst and illuminated so bright that it blinded Anat. It left her in a daze. She stumbled and hit her ankle hard on a shapeless object that threw her of balanced. The shard seemed to cut her foot. It was then as if everything around her was ablaze. Then she collapsed.

There was only blackness at first. The blackness was so profound, so intolerable, so… empty that Anat wondered if she were dead. She heard a shrill scream burst through the air around her. It felt so close yet so distant. The blackness around her softened into lighter hues. It was no longer black, but now dark purples and blues fused to create shapes.

A window sprang up. No, rather it was formed delicately and morphed so quickly it just seemed to spring unto the black of the wall. Its outlines were drawn then colors filled into them. Anat advanced toward the window. A staggering white now illuminated from it. Like the original blackness the white softened to show a yellow moon. For a moment she thought that the yellow moon gave her a teasing look. A look that mocked her existence. However, when she glanced back at it she found no traces of such folly.

She heard the shriek again; more blood curling then before. She unconsciously moved toward the scream. She glanced back and saw that the moon was dabbed with red and it began to spread. It then advanced until finally the red began to drip down to the never-ending whiteness.

She proceeded onwards. The road beneath her transformed into a stony road besmeared with glittering scarlet. Wooden finger like things sprang up from the stones and weeds and other defunct flowers grew around each stone. With each step that she took the stony path behind her vanished into blackness. Soon the crumbling reached the stones beneath her and she gasped. She hurried her pace and reached a door. An elaborate door ornate with figures etched into the steel work. It was monumental as grand as the gates of Hell would be. For an instant, she thought that the hellish fingers on the door might have smiled at her.

She gingerly stepped inside the door. A sullen whiteness was all around her. She was in the midst of all the space in the room. Below her was a river of crimson where the faces of people swam with distressed looks. She glared at one of the morbid faces and with shocking recognition identified it. Then her attention was moved unto a vague yet stunningly frightening figure plastered with ebony. Anat couldn’t help of think of the name Ezekiel. The sullen figure raised its arm and pointed to her. It whispered in a fathomless voice that the answer is—

A cold liquid substance splashed in her face. She glanced around and saw that she was back in the desert. However she no longer felt its heat. She heard the rushing ripples of water around her. She glanced down and a burgundy liquid flowed around her. She had made it to the oasis. No. This… this isn’t right. A cold wave of pain hit her. She looked down at her own body and glanced at the dagger that was struck at her midsection.  The sanguine water had emerged from her. Speckles of gold soiled with red surrounded her, but the desert revealed not one adversary; there was only sand. She painstakingly removed the dagger wailing a discordant cry. She remembered the image of the morbid face that was now imprinted in the back of her mind. Then she felt darkness like never before. Not even like the darkness from aforetime. It was coldness so intense that made her slip deeper into the blood-red pool. Menacing figures sprang up and crept towards her then pulled her into the pool of red. Then she realized that the answer was death.