Among The Wolves

Internal Warfare

Thick, murky, and suffocating was the slimy liquid in which I found myself in. Where I was or how I got here was beyond what I was allowed to obtain. In an ocean so deep I grew to despise the blinding light far above me. I would close my eyes and it was still there. The closer I was to the sun above the waters the more my body would ache and fight against me. Invisible prongs of metal would rip through the blue waves and strike my water sullen flesh. The waters turned red, my vision blazing and lungs constricting. I needed air! Then it was all darkness.

From the deeps of the ocean, I would rise again. The sun, ever looming and getting closer. The ache in the marrow seeping and spreading. I didn’t want this anymore, I wanted to be gone. I wanted the darkness again. Only, when I would let the tentacles of the dark pull me toward its ever consuming belly, the light would relentlessly push in its pursuit to torment me. I could have sworn victory when at last, at one point, when I had faded so far away from the glare that it was a mere pinpoint, yet when the light's existence was made void there would come flashes of lightning, convulsions, fire, and ice. They would not let me go. Surely, there was no escape. I could only hover in the waters, a happy medium, a still in the wind, an eye in an unmoving hurricane, just prostrate between the light's life and the dark's death.

There I remained…

until war waged over no-man's land. There was a surge and a tumult. The sun rays reached out and the deep's shadows curled forward. The dark grabbed for me, but it had no chance as the light burst forth, and I thrust forward into white glory. The ocean that kept me contained disappeared. It was there, then it was gone. The dark abyss that once held on to my backside no longer called me to come to death. The glaring light ahead no longer was blindingly bright and awakening my frazzled and scalded nerves. Still, I was not free… there came from the glowing hearth in my consciousness, rising from the choking smoke, a persecuting blaze.

The fire soon was never absent, the constant feeling of burning in flames, falling in a well of never-ending inferno. My skin was slowly melting, my gut disintegrating. A grueling process that had ashes covering every facet of me, rubbing my already tender frame as would sandpaper. I felt that I was just bones, bare remains of a carcass. Hollow and yet so heavy, weighted down so much my arms were as cement blocks. Ignoring every command to lift and go. My lower limbs tingled, pinching my chafed nerves as if it were laughing at my attempts to manage them. I tried to see why they appeared this way, but my senses were no help.

What once was my best friend turned into my severest enemy, millions of light-sensitive cells betraying me and forcing me to be prey to haunting hallucinations of eyeless corpses, bloodthirsty, mangled monsters, and of being consumed by masses of flesh-eating flies.

Hallucinations were so vivid that when the corpses gripped me, I felt their cold, dead hands freezing me. Sharp pains of frostbite chewing at whatever meat I had left. The delusions so dramatic the mangled monsters had their own free will to pound their massive paws onto my already crushing chest.

Even so, no one came.

No matter how I implored, hysterically yelling so loud, my throat became raw, and blood invigorated my taste buds. I would thrash around in my captive state to be free. Screaming, crying, begging, and sobbing ceaselessly for assistance. Yet, no one would come. All through this time, no one would come to relieve my anguish.

I do not know how many days passed, if any did pass. I would simply blink and suddenly something else was happening. I could not make sense of it. I would be in an open field with air scorching with heat, then I would be in a dark, musky room with no windows, then I would be back in the deep waters, drowning despite my attempts to fight for life.

Now, I was afraid to open my eyes, afraid of what I would see. I could already feel at the moment that I was covered in sweat, or was it not sweat? Perhaps the corpses finally went away and I was thawing out, or maybe I ultimately made it to land, after struggling with the brutal waves. Was I on land? Still afraid of what my surroundings were, I only slightly moved a few fingers. If the monsters were looking at me, I did not want them to know I was awake. I had to be stealthy, I had to survive.

Survive.

My fingers brushed what seemed mildly rough, and yet it was comforting to touch. Sand? No, this was not sand. Fabric… cotton. I was on top of cotton. Was I back in the field? Was it a cotton field? I could not remember anymore. Those memories seemed so long ago now. Melting through the crevices of my wounded conscience. My keen attempts to bring those memories to the forefront of my thoughts were in vain. Only leaving wisps of scenes and small dollops of fluctuating emotions associated with unfamiliar faces and places.

Curiosity clawed my caution, shredding the need to be careful and allowed claustrophobia to seep through. Fear of imminent darkness exhausted my reserve. The strength to keep my eyes closed drained down the faucet of weakness. The sudden need to know where I was caused me to open my eyes.
Everything was blurred, and no distinct forms could be distinguished. A nibble of concern that I was back under waters had me sucking in air. Subsequently, the reality that I could breathe calmed my rising anxieties.

With a new sense of appeasement, I slowed my actions. Blinking and focusing my vision so that in a few moments, it began to clear. The only assistance to light was a hanging lightbulb with a poor-quality illumination. It mildly flickered as if to threaten that it was going to shut off at any moment. Yet with it, I could now make out rough cement walls bordering me at all four sides. The size of the room could be estimated 15 by 20. Ancient-looking floorboards was my ceiling and three mismatched, wooden dressers lined the wall to my right.

I was back, back to that old, dreary, room with no windows. Defeated, I wanted to weep, was I to go again into this strenuous circle of war with… What was it that I was even fighting? I fought so hard, bleed so much, sobbed so earnestly and yet I did not even know who my adversary was. If it was indeed a person.

Where is this place?

Rolling my head to the side I noticed that my left arm was strapped to a cold, white metal bar by a tough, black material. My skin underneath and around the strap was torn, abraded, and sticky with half-desiccated bodily fluids. The white bar where the material was tied was coated with old, dried blood. The ugly brownish substance spotted the cotton blanket that enveloped me, more so where my wrists were bound. I turned to my other arm and the visual result was the same.

Things were different now. I could not put my finger on it though. I listened meticulously… there! I could hear it, faint beeping sounds. I frowned, no… that was not what was different. It was the silence behind the beeping sounds. My ears no longer were filled with the buzzing of the flies or the chilling clicking of the monster’s claws on the floor as they approached me. No more did the screeching of indistinguishable creatures travel up my auditory nerve. It was finally gone.

A relieved sigh left my lips; the silence was beautiful.

I tried to adjust the positioning of my feet but could not move them. A faint acknowledgment that my feet were probably also bound resonated with me. Without much warning a yawn took over.

I let my eyes droop. Being exhausted, I relaxed completely. This was nice, it was very warm and peaceful. The fire was squelched, the ocean drained, and my flesh had returned. Whoever was my adversary, I had defeated them. I contemplated and concluded that the extensive war; whatever it was, was finally over. Because my opponent was dead, I could finally go to sleep.

My eyes closed, and I sighed again. Allowing sleep to tiptoe in. Tomorrow, I thought lazily to myself, I will figure out who I am.