Soul Splitters

Prologue - Cessation

The darkness flooded my mind and senses. I searched for something recognisable in my surroundings, then in the emptiness of my mind. Looking for anything to grasp onto, finding nothing. I shakily stood up, holding my hands close like the mummified remains of Pharaohs. I stood buried in the black. Like rusty cogs groaning and stretching their aching, stiff joints after hibernation my mind began to hold a sliver of a train of thought.

Something was moving in the corner of my eye. Something to my right was twisting and unfurling. I could make out the shape of baroque style bars swirling and intertwining before my eyes, they weaved towards me. As the ebony rails reached me it stopped with a thud against the stone patio I stood on. Across the base of the bridge sprung lifeless, grey wooden planks which slotted into place with a long echoing creak, dust spread into the darkness as the bridge started to settle.

I reached out to touch the vine-like rails when the faint bustle of a crowd broke the silence. I crept towards the sound, leaving the lonely darkness. My footprints sending plumes of dirt into the air. As I wandered across the bridge the wood behind me began to crumble away like it was made of powder, the only way back was gone. I reached the other side of the bridge, gingerly placing my foot on another stone patio. It was smooth, black granite that had a glassy shine. I walked forward, there was a glimmer of lights ahead. The ground was carpeted by a mist, I looked ahead and saw the outline of an archway. Passing through it I stumbled into a train station.

The silence returned briefly before the crowd I had heard rumbled behind me. People passed by me, shouldering me out of their way. The force of hundreds of bodies shoved me to the floor and the echo of voices resonated in my head. I crouched up off the black stone floor and gingerly searched over my shoulder. I could see a steady stream of people emerging from the darkness. An old asian man with a walking stick, followed by a young bald girl holding a fluffy blue rabbit toy, followed by a tens of hundreds of other people. Ahead of me surged a silver train. Young and old, they passed me without stopping or looking. Focused only on the train, I winced as a pain shot through my stomach. My hand drifted over a fresh wound that hadn't healed but wasn't bleeding. The train loaded up as the crowd poured in. I shakily stood up and sloped towards the train. I couldn't grasp what was happening, I looked around but no one would return the gaze. Panic made my breathing erratic and the stream of people started to force me towards the train, I started to walk in the opposite direction facing the mass of bodies. I didn't want to get on the train, where was it going? Hands grabbed me. Someone was forcing me round, forcing me forward. In the trains window I saw my battered reflection and behind me a face blurred into focus. I looked behind me at the face, pushing away from its grasp. Silence fell in the station and I realised the train was gone. I stood with the person in the darkness.

"I'm sorry," he said.