Behind the Flames .:H2OVanoss:.

.:Chapter 11:.

         He couldn't see anything. The darkness of his subconscious was like a thick fog, denying him of translating the corrupted mumbling around him. He refused to open his eyes and face the horrors before him again- the horrors that drove him into madness, hinting to the faintest recollection of his earliest childhood memories.
         Moving images repetitively hovered in his mind until he could do nothing but fall to his knees and scream with rage. He was trapped in an invisible barrier, like a caged animal forced to watch its only companion get ripped from the world in cold blood. The scenes appeared in his dreams frequently, confusing reality with fable. He had no idea what to believe about his past.
          Slowly he could feel his eyes force open, completely against his will. Here he found himself yet again, listening to the shrill voice wailing painfully in a void of no other noise. His hands beat like war drums on the invisible barrier, desperate to prevent this unstoppable nightmare. Trapped in his mind, he watched his body do the unimaginable.
            There he stood, staring out of a stranger's eyes, below him was the body of a man who wore untouched golden armor, oozing with vile, clotting blood. His throat glowed like a flame as he screamed into the silence, unable to fight as his gaze met the familiar trail of blood. He followed the bright red path towards a small, faceless child.
          It was trembling with tears pooling out of its nonexistent eyes. The cries came not from where the child sat, but seemingly right next to his ear. The only thing that ceased the child's sobs was the eery chuckle that escaped the torturer's lips.
        'Don't do it!' He pleaded, though he already knew what was inevitable. His body slowly raised a bloody arm, taking aim towards the child, laughing like a maniac as the flickering cyan currents slithered through his bony fingers. Just as the high-pitched, ear-piercing, glass-shattering caterwaul tore through the nothingness, lightning as strong as the sun bolted from his fingertips and right into the child's skull. The world flashed black and white in violent, spontaneous bursts, forcing his mind to his knees screaming in agony.
          Ever millisecond of light that whipped by he found himself in a different setting. One where the child ran carelessly through a forest, dragging him by the hand. Then, darkness. When the light illuminated his vision again, the child floated lifelessly in a bottomless ocean of blood.
         Then darkness again. In another flash, the child was clinging to his arm, laughing with him, face still corrupted with malice. Then darkness, and light again- the child now torn apart in front of him, intestines wrapped around its neck like a noose.
          The poor, innocent youth was lit on fire, electrocuted, stabbed, mauled, crushed, drowned, ripped in half; Too many deaths that occurred to the same damn child.
          Too many scenarios came and went, but the one that always got to him the most was the part that always had him scrambling to awaken himself. These four pictures, those four moments, that one heartbeat of a second. The kid standing in a puddle of blood. Its clothes were torn to pieces, thrown onto the ground to soak. Its back, wounded and bloody with burns and jagged scars, taunted him with regret and misery.
         Finally he found his own footing, the barrier now mysteriously gone. He rushed to aid the poor child, when suddenly the world flashed again and it teleported further away. Only this time, its body faced sideways, head bowed forwards as if he had been hanged. He kept running, seemingly getting closer in the single second of time he had before it flashed again. Now the child faced forward, so far in the distance he could make no detail out of the uncovered face.
          Then, the final flash. The child burst into sight right before him. He gasped in terror, slamming his heels into the ground to come to a screeching halt. Wait, this was wrong! This isn't how it was supposed to end!
         He expected the child to get dragged into a whirlpool of blood and carcasses, slowly melting away the dream until he woke up, choking and gasping for breath.
          However, this was ending the same as before. As he slid to a stop before the young one, he finally took in the features of the child's face. It looked like a little boy, with matted brown locks soaked in red liquid. His eyes remained covered, his pale lips cracked and bleeding over chattering teeth. Cautiously, he took a daring step closer to the boy.
          "Kid..? A-are you alright?" Despite his voice hushed to a whisper, it echoed loudly in the soundless chasm. "I won't hurt you if you don't hurt me.." He reached out a hand to brush the hair away from his eyes. He didn't know what he expected, but it certainly was not what he bargained for.
          Before he could even see them, he felt the uncomfortable warmth on his fingertips, then a paralyzing, painful shock that locked his body in its place. His fingers were coated in blood. He couldn't move or breath, his head now dizzy from lack of oxygen. His eyes remained fixed on the boy, who just stood there, unmoving. His breathing was long and ghastly.
         Torturous moments went by when the boy finally whipped his head up.
          'That face, I know that face, why do I know that face?!' Blood dripped from the fresh zig-zag scar that crossed his face.
          'Those eyes. I've seen them!' Miraculously, the scar avoided his eyes completely. Little blue orbs glowed with hatred and betrayal, the once-white of his eyes were stained red from his never ending suffering.
           'Why is it so damn familiar?!' He felt his chest constrict. He was still paralyzed when the boy began to quiver violently. He scanned him up and down, mumbling incoherent sentences. Then, he spoke in the most heart-broken and betrayed whisper he had ever heard in his life.
        "Tarak.." It whimpered, taking a step back. "You.. it was.. your.. Your.. fault..."
        Tarak shook his head. "I-I don't understand! Who are you-?!"
         The child continued. "Your fault... it was your fault..! Y-your fault! Your fault! YOUR FAULT! YOUR FAULT! YOUR FAULT!!' His voice shrilled, shaking the very foundation they stood on. The darkness cracked, vicious winds nearly swiped him off his feet.
          "No! It's not, it's not my fault! I swear I would never hurt you without reason!!" Suddenly all the feeling in his body rushed back, and Tarak attempted to approach through the hurricane. The boy had other plans, however, as he suddenly turned and bolted away in his overwhelming fear. Tarak tried to follow, but the small boy ran three equal strides for every one of his.
           The cries were right in Tarak's ears no matter how far away he ran, until they paused right as he tripped over an unseen object. He curled into himself defensively, rolling a couple times until sliding painfully on what felt like shards of stone.
          He opened his eyes and to his dismay, it was not gravel. Billions of shards of bone cushioned his body, rattling and sweeping past him into the storm. He scrambled to his feet in panic, spotting the boy again but much, much further away. His tiny figure stood high atop of a pillar of bones that fell into an endless chasm.
         His bloody face was in his hands and he wailed in fear, crying for help in between sobs. Mortified, Tarak watched as the pile beneath the child's feet began to waver, soon crumpling beneath his bare feet.
         "Jump, kid! It's gonna fall!" Words left Tarak's mouth before he could process it. He slowly looked in Tarak's direction as he outstretched his arms, but the boy did not heed his warning. The pillar shook, leaning back and forth as the winds cyclone around him. Then it all came crashing down, dragging the boy with it.
          "NO! I WON'T WATCH YOU DIE ANY LONGER!!" Taking as many steps back as he could, Tarak sprinted to the edge of the chasm, hurdling himself further than he ever thought possible.
The winds stopped just as his delicate frame slammed into Tarak's, where he was forcibly curled into Tarak's protective arms. Staring down into the bottomless pit with the child's head pressed against his chest, he felt peace at last. Until, the weight of gravity threatened to shred that peace. Outstretching his arm one last time, he reached for the ledge, shutting his eyes and bracing for impact.