Unfamiliar Territory [Book One]

Chapter Fifteen | Licking the Wound

I was unsure how long I spent recovering from my injuries.

They kept me in a bare room in the abandoned asylum. My new room. It had only a mattress and a cinderblock with which they kept one of my ankles chained to at all times. Even though it felt like my entire body was broken. Like I would never move again, let alone try and get free.

When I regained consciousness, it was only a fragment, a whisper, a glimmer. And I would lose that glimmer frequently.

I felt the sensation of being bathed --carefully, delicately. The pain of the rough sponge on my broken body hurt more than words could say. Like needles shoved into every nerve, or fire dancing around my insides.

One night I was brought back to the world by soft crying. I still could not see, and the crying echoed off the walls. It sounded like it came from everywhere. In my deluded state, I thought it was some spirit of the old asylum weeping for its own misery, or maybe even for mine. My body still hurt, but inside I felt nothing.

I could feel the warmth of the sun on my body as I was being carried through the woods. I knew it was the woods because I could smell the apples and the dirt. It made me remember the dream I had. Living in the woods, free and peaceful. I wondered if I was to be buried. I wondered if I would return to that dream.

A crackling of fire. Low, harmonious chanting. The putrid smell of rot and death returned to my nose. It was not a smell that I missed. I felt something being smeared across my naked body, the texture was cold and gritty against the arms, legs, and across the face. I tried not to think of it being the source of the smell. Naked tree branches made their music against the wind. I felt a bitter chill at my feet while the rest of my body remained warm by the fire.

My next return from darkness was heralded by singing. It was soft, barely louder than a whisper. I mistook it for the wind, at first.

Then the light hit my eyes. It hurt, but I spent so long in the darkness-- I refused to return to it. I kept my eyes open and, gradually, images began to appear.

At first, it was just a lot of grey, but, as it got clearer, I could make out walls, a floor, and a ceiling all bathed in an orange glow. Then there was a lot of white, a lot of white very close to me.

It was me. My body was wrapped up in all sorts of bandages from my waist maybe even to my face. I felt a stirring warmth beneath the bandages and I realized, all at once, that I was no longer in pain. Inside or outside. It was such a strange sensation that I was afraid to move my body in case some previously undisturbed injuries decided to rear their ugly heads.

The singing went on. It became clearer as my vision cleared. I looked around the small room I was in, but it was dark. A small candle was lit beside the mattress I was laying on, though the singing came from somewhere else in the room-- in the shadows. I tried to reach for it and realized I could not move. Not one inch.

Deep beneath the meadow grove

Through the grass, below the snow

The words sounded like a song. The singer had a pleasant voice. It was so quiet that I had to refrain from trying to move, from making any sound at all, so that I could hear it.

Lies a beauty soft and still

Waiting patiently until

I could barely make out someone moving in the shadows of the candle light. I could smell something delicious and my stomach started to ache. It was like I hadn't eaten in years. But I remained quiet, because the song was not over.

There comes a one strong and sure

With golden light and warmth so pure.

He greets the beauty with a kiss