Fallen

Chapter 7 "Requiem of a Dream"

Shadows ambled back and forth—to and fro like opera singers performing in front of an audience. But I was the only one seated in this grand cathedral. As I set my gaze on a stage perforated with spinning apparitions, gliding from one scene to the next, I took a pause for a brief surveillance.

Where am I?

A million fingers fluttered right in front of my face as if these objects leaped off of the stage like a 3-D movie. My nails dug into the armrest on my chair, jolting and shaking it. The air weighed heavily with a cloud of incoherent mumblings that took over the stereo system looming several feet over me.

Louder—LOUDER!

Still, I couldn't make out the words said. As if the theater had come crashing down, the shadows meandered off the stage gradually making their way toward me. In correlation with the mumbling sounds, a murmur increased with volume as the figures came closer—CLOSER!

I gasped, sucking in a lung full of air. I couldn't move almost as if I were being pressed down.

—Again?

I was paralyzed but still conscience.

This can't be—it just can't be happening to me again?

"Lydia!" said a disenchanted voice accompanied by a deep pause, "—LYDIA!"

It definitely wasn't mumbling. But something so familiar voice, guiding me through the darkness. My fingers touched a black liquid, reaching toward the sound. Unlike water or an oil slick, this liquid dissipated upon contact.

Was the origin of the voices?

So, I pressed against the bubble with all my might, hoping to burst through.

Turning back toward the theater, it had disappeared. Perhaps just a figment of my imagination, it didn't exist just like I didn't exist. Even the air I was breathing didn't exist—It was just there. I was just there trapped in a realm of non-existence.

Am I dead?

It was pointless to look around because the slick surrounded me. As if at the pit of a stomach, there was no escape.

My night vision had adjusted well to the darkness, but I still wasn't seeing anything—just total darkness.

Is this hell?

A soft cloud-like sensation cushioned me as I fell to my knees. I felt nothing as both fists impact the ground, trapped in a boil or cyst. Pulling my hands out of the muck, they were unaffected. But I felt hopeless. I was a prisoner, trapped in a sea of a liquid-like pus.

                                                               ~*~

"Lydia!" said a voice.

My gaze followed a dim glow at what appeared to be the end of a tunnel.

—Again with the tunnel?

"She's coming to," said another voice.

I could feel a growing anticipation lingering in the air.

The glow turned into a ray of brightness the closer I made my way to it. And, the voices were becoming more distinct. No longer just random mumbling sounds, there were words I could understand as I made my way closer to the light, growing heavier like a bright haze with each step forward, enveloped by warmth, illuminating the darkness.