Parting of Echoes

I

The road curved in several directions, almost as if it were a serpent trying to escape the lake behind it, as the mountain seemed to stretch into the heavens, and yet he did not care. His foot pressed hard against the gas pedal, forcing the car to stutter slightly as it reached speeds of 100 miles- then 110- even 120. Eyes tired and unwilling to stay open. If he fought hard to stay alert, they still wouldn't budge, though the lack of light from the sun made it all the more difficult. Stars littered the sky as the moon's light kept darkness from completely engulfing the terrain upon which it shone. Exhaustion was creeping into his bones, as his grip tightened on the steering wheel, his awareness of the speed fuzzy as he tried to relax his foot, seeing a curve coming up ahead, though by the time he'd started hitting the breaks, it was much too late.

His eyes finally widened as he felt the car break through the road barrier, sending him flying over the edge and plummeting to his death. Fear kicked in as he braced himself, his body tense as his breathing grew quicker in its pace, his final moments being miserable, filled with only fear of what his life had led up to. Perhaps he wasn't a great person in these last twenty years, but surely he wasn't awful enough to warrant his damnation for eternity? This road had been traveled a hundred times yet why now had he done such a foolish thing? Somewhere in the back of his fear riddle mind, he heard a voice tell him that it was simply time and that he could finally be at peace. Despite this little whisper, he could not find it in himself to feel anything but fear, regret, anger- grief over his absence and what it could cause to those that claimed to care for him. He kept his eyes closed now, horrified by what he would see if he were to open them.

"You alright?" a man's voice suddenly sounded from his left, as he quickly opened his eyes, his head quickly turning to see who said that.

A concerned man looked down at him, "Sorry, did I startle you out of your thoughts?" he asked apologetically, though the shorter man could not wrap his head around how he got here- or where he was for that matter. Rather than answering, he silently looked around, recognizing this as the interior of an elevator, though it looked rather rough and unstable, but he found himself without any real concern. Had he died? Was this elevator his ride to hell? His eyes watched the numbers go up, showing an ascent rather than descent, which made the situation all the more confusing to him. Nothing looked familiar, the numbers something else entirely, yet why did he know what they meant?

The doors slid open to reveal a long balcony, doors lining the left side while a railing lined the right side, showing a view of a sandy pit below. It was roughly the size of a football field, and if his eyes weren't deceiving him, it looked to have several red spots of dried blood, with two men fighting while those on the balconies watched and yelled. He'd never seen such an odd thing in his life, yet here it was, as if an entertaining thing to witness. Confused, he opted to just follow the man that had been with him in the elevator, which made him aware of what he seemed to be wearing.

His boots were akin to leather combat boots, large and all black, with the heels adding an inch to his already tall form. No sound was made as he walked, almost if by instinct he were silencing his footsteps. His right hand rested on a small brown bag, which had been tied onto a black belt holding his beige cargo trousers up, keeping the little bag from making any noise. He'd later see what exactly the bag contained, but it was heavy with what was perhaps coins- the weight similar to that of a bag filled with quarters or dollar coins. The windows he walked by were one way, reflecting the outside which showed him his shirt, washed out blue with little tears at the bottom, his jacket nothing more than a simply black covering with short sleeves, not enough to shield from the cold. Behind him was a large sword- likely a claymore- with a green handle and leather scabbard holding it in place as he walked. To his mild amusement, he saw what he could only describe as a black sniper rifle alongside it. As his eyes moved up, he found himself baffled further, as it was his own face looking back at him.

Tired dark brown eyes gazed back at him, eyebags much darker than he originally had, with a scar across his left cheek, another just barely missing his right eye. His shaggy black hair was now tied into a messy ponytail that reached to his lower back, messy and uncombed, with several strands sticking out. His appearance clearly showed that it was him, yet this wasn't truly him- how long was he out? Why was he here? Who was the strange man he was following- WHY was he still following him?

All these questions yet he couldn't find it in himself to ask as he walked into the room. Immediately, he had bells going off, as he looked at the multitude of young boys in the living room, all smiling and socializing with one another whilst playing a video game that looked like Mario, yet the colors were all wrong. When the door closed, their gazes went to him, all curious about who this newcomer was, "Don't mind them," the man from earlier said, leading him away and into a hallway with many rooms, though they went straight for the one at the end, which had two larger men with frowns on their faces guarding it.

They allowed the two men inside, as the black haired man looked around silently, accidently bumping into his guide, apologizing for doing so, as the man merely raised an eyebrow, but pointed to a rather large man sitting on the bed. He was likely in his early fifties, with grayed hair and tired blue eyes, but his smile was kind. "Ichor, it's an honor to meet you." the man said, slightly bowing his head. The brown eyed man wondered if he was referring to him, and based on the expecting smile, he figured he was.

"It was surprising you showed up on our shores," the man started again, as "Ichor" only nodded, remaining silent throughout this whole weird trip. He could tell the man with the blue eyes was starting to get nervous as his voice shook slightly, though the kind smile remained on his face, likely so as to not upset him. "You informed us that your ship had crashed- we couldn't find any others alive besides you."the man said shakily, "Ichor" nodding once again, wondering what he meant exactly.

"We can take you to the morgue- to see them one final time?" he offered, and his curiosity won over his worries, as he agreed to go, wondering who this crew was. All of this was jarring, and he knew nothing of who he was supposed to be. It didn't take long for the other man to stand, using a cane to help him walk as he began leading the way back out, past the young boys, who greeted the elderly man cheerfully. Even if he didn't know much, he could tell they were at least fond of this man, some even calling him "grandpa", although he doubted they had any true blood relation.