BONDED

In the beginning

***** this chapter is written in first person with a present day narrative, whereas the rest of the story, the other chapters are written in third person past tense. I wrote this chapter as a short story before expanding it into a novel.****

****Also I'm reuploading cos I changed accounts. I originally uploaded it on 13th October, 2024******

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"Michael. Michael. Michael." I would hear him call my name Every. Night.

In my dreams, "Michael,"

Kissing a lover's neck, "MIChael,."

At a party, "MICHael!"

Underwater, "MICHAel!"

"MICHAEL!!!"

I would stick my fingers in my ears, hit my head against the walls, put my head underwater but none of it seemed to stop the voice.
Holding onto my pillow for dear life, drowning the voice with loud music via headphones, never seemed to help. If anything, they made the voice louder. It was as though, its prime objective was to make sure that I heard him, no matter what. He would always cut through the barrier. no matter what. It was exhausting.

It was only in my exhaustion, that I found a better way to deal with it. After I had almost given up, and added it to one of the many things that I could never control, that's when it hit me. It fed off my emotions. And the only sure way to deal with it, was to think positive, be positive. be calm and collected.

And it's been easier ever since. Now, I only hear it more as a sweet whispers or a serenading voice in my dreams. it doesn't bother me as much as it used to.

Only two people in my life knows about this; Maurice and Tory, and I was a bit terrified to tell them. I didn't want to be branded as crazy and lose the only two friends that I had made in my adult years.

"As long as you don't go around slashing throats in the night, I think we're good. Anyway, where's the 20 cedis?" Those were Maurice exact words.
Tory did not actually say much. He only stared at me, inspecting my face and ears to see if anything was happening in the moment. I had to tell him it only happened at night and he suggested to sleep with me to find out. He was a bit of a supernatural geek, a bit of a Superman/ Clark Kent except he was leaner. "I'm only the one who hears him" I had said.

I'm kind of in a better place but it was terrifying the first night it happened.

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I had returned home from a museum, a mystic and ancient artifacts museum. It had European, asian and african artifacts on display. One of the many artifacts that caught my interest like a stone with a realistic portrait carving of woman smiling and waving at whomever carved her, a scroll that had the design of a phone thousand of years before phones were invented, the skeleton of a man with wings, was the coffin.

The tour guide gave their findings of what coffin or metallic box could be. They were not sure it was a coffin but she believed it was, and that it had belonged to an ancient God or something. They had yet to confirm their theory since they don't know its contents.

It was a rectangular shaped box, brown in colour with a reflective surface. Its edges were about 30 degrees curved in. Its height and width was about that of a king single size bed. It was a bit too huge for a coffin.

It had wings engraved in the center of its sides, horizontally moving from one side to the other, all around the coffin. Some of the wings were higher, some were lower while the rest were in the middle, but they all fell in the 14 cm horizontal space that was engraved for it. It did not have an end of beginning as it circles the entire coffin. And when you moved around the coffin, the wing pattern had a dancing feel to it.

There were other engravings as well. Two mouths engraved on one side, two ears on the opposite side of the coffin.
Perpendicular to those sides of the coffin, were two pair of eyes staring at each other beneath the line of wings.

And on top of the wings, were three pairs of eyes. The ones to the sides were staring at the eyes below, whereas the one in the middle was staring out into the world, at whomever may be looking at that side of the coffin. That eye was quite disturbing to look into. It was like it was out to get you.

The eyes were cold and hard just as the ones by its sides. Most of us avoided it. It created a contrasting balance with the eyes at the bottom, since they had a feeling of love. That side seemed to be the foot end of the coffin.

On the far end side of the coffin, was a hole. Big and long enough to fit a finger or two. And engraved on top of the coffin, were a sequence of squiggly pathways and in the center was a heart, with the words "Only Time can tell." engraved in italic beneath it. It was weirdly mesmerizing.

After seeing a bunch of other stuff, we called it a day and went out separate ways home after eating at a restaurants, three blocks down from the museum.

I had returned home around 10pm, just lying on my bed, closing that day's chapter, when it happened. "Michael."

It was gentle like a breeze, but instead of moving on, it lingered. Like it was holding its breath. I opened my eyes and with a blurry vision, glanced around the room as lazily as I can. The three corners of the room did not show a single soul. I closed my eyes and patiently waited for sleep to take me once again, in its wonderful embrace.

I had barely rested my head on Sleep's gentle bossom, barely tasted the sweet nectar of the Gods when I was pulled back into my room, again. "Michael."
I bolted upright, scanned the room again. The outside light made it easier to see through the darkness, But still, there was nobody there. I honestly started to get annoyed. I was about to yell at whomever it was, to cut it out, when I heard my name again. "MIChael."
It was a bit louder this time. Terrified, I scanned the room again. If this was a horror film, I was not definitely not going to make it. The only other I hadn't checked was the ceiling. I slowly lifted, trembling a bit as I did so. Before I could see the space directly on top of me, it yelled out my name again. "MICHAEL!".
Terrified I covered my head with my blanket and clinged onto my pillow, pulling it to my chest and squeezing as hard as I can. As though that action would make the voice stop. Nope. It happened again. Louder and louder.

It did not have a particular source. It felt like it was all around me. Scared, I prayed. To God. To any God, to the universe to save me. That did not help. I thought I would pass from the fear and the panic. I could move. I felt paralyzed. It would stop every few minutes as though to get water for its hoarse throat, and then continue, "MICHael."

It continued like this for hours. It was honestly very terrifying.
It did eventually stop somewhere in the night, but I was too frightened to sleep. Until my alarm woke me up an hour or two later.

It took me months to get used to Enigma's voice, that's what I call him now. It's fitting right? He is stuck with me and I don't understand why. I wished it was less of an okay experience that I have go through and more of something that brings pure joy, like the laughter of a child, the warm embrace of a parent, the bond of a best friend, the cuddle of a lover.