Back To The Past

Chapter 3

It took Zane a few seconds to realise he was awake.

Then, dizziness hit him, closely followed by a searing, burning pain emanating from the cut on his back. His whole body ached.

Not dead, then. He was not sure whether he ought to be relieved or disappointed.

There was rock digging into his back each time he breathed.

He tried to roll onto his side, but a new wave of pain shook him. He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut until it became bearable once again.

After a few minutes, his ragged breathing evened out and he forced his eyelids to open.

Stars blinked back at him. The full moon gave an ethereal view to his surroundings, dipping the world in silvery light.

As the pain receded, his thoughts regained a semblance of order. He frowned. How it was possible for him to see the stars, considering that he had left the conscious world in the middle of a rainy day?

He shook his head in a futile attempt to clear it. No one seemed to be around, and the only noise he could hear, beside the unpleasant ringing in his ears, was the whistling of the wind between aged monoliths.

None of this made any sense. A distant part of him stirred worriedly, willing him to focus. He tried, but his brain felt so heavy.

Slowly, he rolled into a sitting position, fighting off another wave of nausea and dizziness.

Armor discarded, his shirt was still damp with rain and fresh blood. With trembling fingers, he tried to pry it off his chest. He wished the world would stop blurring at the edges. It was swaying in and out of focus, rendering the exercise a lot more hazardous than Zane thought it had any right to be. He blinked, and the shirt was in his hands, a burnt, torn and dirty mess much like himself.

A soft breeze blew over the deserted land. Zane shivered violently despite its warmth. He could feel blood trickle down his back.

With slow, clumsy hands, he tore the clothe to shreds, making some makeshift bandages that he tied tightly around his mid-section, hoping it would slow the haemorrhage. His burns and broken bones would have to wait.

Then, shaking from exhaustion, mind sluggish, he lowered himself onto the ground. It was dry. He had the time to think it was rather odd, seeing how much it had been raining earlier, before darkness claimed him once again.

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He was burning.

Flames were licking at his skin, blisteringly hot. Red, scorching light hurt his eyes.

He could not seem to bring enough air into his lungs. He tried to sit up to soothe the pain, but all he managed was a feeble cough. His throat felt parched.

Oh, Irene. He was burning.

The red light against his eyes was pressing down on him now, turning scarlet as if it were a pool of fresh blood, suffocating, and suddenly there were slanted pupils watching him from its depths, darker than night, cold, unforgiving, and shadows moved and snarled within them and Zane could not breathe, he was drowning, burning, someone was screaming, far, far away. .

Cool hands found his face, a string of soft, whispered words ran over his skin like soothing water, and the heat became somewhat tolerable. Zane sank.

AN: How was it? Love it? Hate it? Why not Rate it? It took me longer than expected but TA-DA!  Hope you enjoyed and don't forget to leave a comment or suggestions for any problems wkthe the story k? Till next time!