Beneath the Waves

Amma

 So basically what Chris had learned so far was that humans were jealous of some other creatures that God created first? They then convinced God that those creatures were the ones who betrayed him in the garden of Eden. Then, with the help of the archangel Michael, this first generation of nuns were somehow impregnated with 'special children' who then grew up to be the first generation of whatever ghostly nun warriors were supposed to defeat these monsters. Okay, so they weren't all nuns, only the first ones. That makes more sense than her surname showing up on some ancient family tree. The most shocking part so far was the fact that her name, her exact birth name, was written on the most recent branch of the gigantic family tree. Not only did she get this book out of her dream, but her actual name was written in it. She wasn't quite sure what this meant, but she had a feeling that it wouldn't be good. She was a descendant of some weird nun warriors made to kill monsters. If this was all real of course.

That night was when things took a turn for the strange... well... stranger at this point. Every time that Chris tried to fall asleep the same thing happened. Drifting off, feeling her subconscious take over from her conscious mind, that sinking into darkness and the moment before completely slipping into sleep she would hear a deafening whisper. CHRIS. Right in her ear. Almost as if it were a thought instead of an external sound. CHRIS followed by a lingering stillness of everything around her. As if the whole world paused for a second or two. This went on almost all night. It was past 3am when she finally fell asleep without a ghostly whisper waking her up.

The peace wouldn't last long though. She woke at 4am with a loud thud. THe book had fallen from where she had left it on her desk. She got up to put it back and saw that it had fallen open on a page she had yet to read. Bending down to pick it up, she saw it had opened on a drawing of what looked like a ghost? Sort of? She touched the pages and was shocked to find that they had somehow transformed into a different kind of matter. It didn't feel like a page. Rather something wet that her hand could go through. A puddle? She snatched her hand out and touched it. Dry. She was probably dreaming again. This couldn't be real. She looked around at her room as if to find something unusual to confirm her suspicion. Nothing. Just her normal room. She touched the book/puddle again, pushed past her hand up to her elbow. It disappeared mary poppins style beyond the book, beyond the floor. Like a portal to another world.

There were two ways that this could go. She could get back in bed, go back to sleep and hope this weird dream is just a weird dream and she wakes up feeling semi-refreshed. OR she could dive headfirst into this book puddle and see what the hell was on the other side. So far she couldn't feel anything, but she knew there had to be something there. Two choices stood before her, she already knew what she was going to do. I mean she loved horror movies, and this seemed like the start of one, so if it was just a dream... what's the harm in following through?

So she moved closer to the book, decided that head first was probably a bad idea, so she went feet first into wherever the book puddle was about to take her. She closed her eyes, sat on the edge of the book as if her feet were just dangling in a swimming pool, and hopped off into the abyss.

The first thing she noticed was that the abyss was fucking cold, and for some reason it smelled like cloves. She can't remember ever having felt cold or smelling something in a dream before, so that was weird. She started looking around, trying to make out where she was. It seemed to be a type of dungeon situation, there were a few weapons hanging on the wall to the left, and what looked like training dummies placed all over the room. To the far right there was a door with a light dimly shining through. She made her way slowly towards the door, unsure of what she would find. She just knew she had to go there, like something was pulling her towards it.

Her footsteps echoed through the stone-covered space and as she walked through the door, she took a deep breath. At an old wooden table, with their back to her, sat a nun - or what looked like a nun. Wearing a habit that looked slightly different than the traditional ones she was used to seeing, she turned around in her chair, looked Chris in the eyes and with a not gestured for her to take the seat on the opposite side of the table.

"Ive been waiting for you", the silence broken by these words and the faraway drip of water. Typical dungeon sounds, just like you'd expect. The voice was not what she expected. Barely audible, just above a whisper (a very familiar sounding whisper). "Hey were you the one whispering my name while I was trying to sleep?" she asked, barely able to keep her voice steady, "I had to call you somehow didn't I?" came the reply. "What do you want from me? Is this a dream? Are you even real or am I just going crazy?" Chris asked desperately. "Everything you know to be real is a lie, so does it really matter what is real and what is not? Do you not rather wish to know why I have brought you here to this place?" she sounded annoyed already, well then she had another thing coming because Chris was stubborn as hell and wasn't going to take any of this bullshit lying down. "I want to know everything, but mostly why I haven't been able to get a good night's sleep in weeks". "Sleep is for the weak, and that is what you are. You have no idea what we are faced with, what you are about to deal with or even how close it is" came the annoyed voice once again. "You need to start your training immediately if you hope to even get close to defeating our enemy". "Well if you're here, then why do you need me? Can't you do it yourself?" she asked, also getting annoyed at this whole thing now. "As you might have noticed, my contact with you has all been through the spiritual realm. I am not human enough anymore to do what we once did. I am merely a memory, dust and shadows tasked to keep alive a tradition long forgotten. I've been waiting for centuries. Nothing but these stone walls to keep me company. You may call me Amma. I was one of the first." "Amma", Chris repeated the name, the feeling of it somehow familiar on her lips. "The first what?"she asked, "the first warriors, Chayal, as they called us back then". "Chayal... what language is that? What does it mean?" she asked, curiosity building. "It means soldier, child, an ancient Hebrew word for soldier. When we were at our most powerful the word would strike fear into any who heard it. Enough questions for now. It is time to start your training. You have much yet to learn."

Training? What kind of training did the old nun mean. Surely she wasn't supposed to suddenly be able to transform into some kind of warrior, wielding a sword and pulling all sorts of acrobatic manoeuvres. "What kind of training are we talking about here?", she asked nervously. "First shall be the completion of the reading of the scripture, after that, you will have to wait and see. Make sure that next time I see you, you have completed the book I gave you and that you know it all off by heart. Until next time child". With this the room became hazy around her, Amma's face blurry as if Chris' eyes were suddenly out of focus. She closed her eyes, palms of her hands rubbing pressed against each socket until she saw nothing but stars. When she opened her eyes she was back in her room. Sitting on the side of her bed, book still open on the floor. She looked at the clock. No time had passed since she last glanced at it.

Well there was no way she was going back to sleep now. Not after all of that. She really still wasn't sure if she was going crazy, if it was a dream or if it really happened. It didn't matter right now. All she could hear was her heartbeat echoing in her ears and Amma's voice telling her to finish reading the book. So instead of tossing and turning, she decided she might as well do what the old woman told her. She went to the kitchen, coming back to her room with a strong cup of coffee and making herself comfortable. Book in her lap. Coffee in hand. She turned the page and started reading. This time not so sure that it was just another fiction book.