Resurrection {NaNoWriMo}

Chapter 8

Acacia, the voice caressed her ears, where are you, my darling?

Bolting up in bed, her heart pounding against the chasm of her chest, seeming to want to desperately escape the barrier, Acacia gasped and felt the tears rush down her face. She flinched as images assaulted her vision, white rivers and shining faces had illuminated the darkness. But they had vanished upon her awakening, and their absence stirred up a deep sense of loss in her chest. Her heart screeched in anguish, her body felt tight and wrong. What was she missing? Where had she gone?

Her eyes peeled open to face the suffocating shadows. She needed a reprieve, to breathe fresh air, to feel light and warmth and not this hallow aching that filled her chest. She wanted to wear clothes that weren't devoid of color, but instead possessed a fierce vividness of hues. She wanted to wear her hair in something other than the tight braids that were 'expected'. She wanted to go back to that wretched forest that felt so much more welcoming at this point than the caves. She wanted to bathe and drown herself in the clear, glimmering water of the stream that she had cleansed. The darkness that bellowed at her stained her body and seeped into her skin. This was wrong.

She was wrong.

A tumbling heap of quaking limbs, she plunged through the gloom. Her legs faulted beneath her light weight, the weakness encasing her as the murkiness continued to pollute her being, shading her heart and bruising her soul. She had to escape, had to taste fresh air and lose herself in the freedom of the surface. She had to get to the surface, had to touch the sky and brighten the stars. Something in her whispered the urge throughout her mind, gradually gaining momentum as it grew to be a full out scream.

She plummeted to the floor as her body gave out. On limp legs, she dragged herself with her arms and dug her knees into the harsh floor, heaving herself across the cold surface. It was cold. Everything was cold, too much cold.

She felt the thick metal surface of the door at her finger tips, dug her nails across the surface, hearing the sharp screech of resistance. She reveled in the sound, doused herself in it, yanked her faulting body onto its knees, her fingers biting into the surface of the metal, gripping and wrenching, she struggled to haul the door open. Yelling out in desperation as the hysteria began to set in, she scratched and screamed and crashed herself against the door.

A biting pain shot through her fingers, and she felt the blood being to drip from her cracked and beaten nails, down her fingers and hands. Her ribs ached against her onslaught of the door. But she kept slamming, slamming, slamming against it. She screamed out in anguish. Why wouldn't it budge? She had to get out. She had to get out!

"Acacia!" Another voice screamed with hers.

She pounded herself into the surface into the surface of the door over and over, as arms wrapping around her waist, wrenching her back. She thrashed against them, fresh screeches ripping from her throat.

"No!"

"My gods, you sound like a dying badger. Can you shut up?" He yelled at her.

She shrieked in reply, her bloody hands reaching out to slap him, to free her. The crimson smeared black across his exposed chest. She lurched out and away, struggled and grappled. His arms were iron rods around her, never budging against her assault, pulling her firmly against him and waiting her madness out.

"Let me go!" She groaned, elbowing him in the ribs, twisting and thrashing. "I want to go," she cried. "The sky! I have to reach the sky!" She shrieked.