Persephone Incarnate [Wattpad Prize 2014] | ✔️

{18} Alexander

Alexander listened to the sound of wind whistling past him as he hurtled down, down, down toward some unknown destination. He tried to crane his head forward to try and see the dark depths beneath him and measure how far he had left to go, but the wind was a giant chain around his body – he couldn’t move anything – his head, his feet, his fingers – he was bound by a great amount of force. It was like being on one of those Tilt-A-Whirl rides going at full velocity and you were strapped in your seat and you just wanted to move your head a little, just a little bit, to see the amusement park below you, but you couldn’t because it was like there were invisible metal bars holding you back, pressing you into your seat.

Except that aren’t any safety features, he thought grimly. His eyes darted around nervously, but even they began to water after a while. So he stopped moving, keeping his eyes straight ahead, at the wall, at the darkness in front of him.

Apprehension was hanging around in every cell of his body, and it didn’t really come from the fact that he was in freefall – no, that okay. It was actually enjoyable, if you could get over the horrible sound effects and being deadlocked in some invisible wind tunnel. No, what bubbled and jumped and screamed inside of him, told him to run, to fly, to kick – it was the fear of the impact of the fall. The fear of touching – no, hitting the ground, and then hearing the crack of bones breaking, or the thump of his head heading some hard surface, and then pain wracking his body until he blacked out, until he died – that was what scared him most.

He couldn’t help but hope that he would never reach the bottom. But at the same time, another voice, stronger then the primal urge to run, to survive, told him to hurry up, to reach the bottom soon, so that he could save Sophie, could guarantee her a happier future. Maybe a happier future with him.

He would’ve taken a deep breath to boost up his confidence if he could’ve, but that would be like sticking your face into a sub-zero freezer and trying to get a big gulp of air – it would hurt, and you would more likely than not freeze your face off while getting a mouthful of icicles. So he had no choice but to fall, shaking a little bit here and there, unable to stop those tremors racking his body. Even the wind couldn’t force that to completely stop.

So he closed his eyes. And he waited, trying to hear his heart over the sound of the wind, because as long as his heart was beating, there was hope. As long as he could hear the steady thump of his heart (okay, so it wasn’t steady, it felt like he would have a heart attack any minute), it meant he was still alive, and if he was alive, he had a chance – no matter how slim or how fat – of getting to Sophie.

Why is it so important to get to her?

The thought struck him as funny. He’d come all this way, and now he couldn’t figure out why the heck he was even here. He knew he was here for Sophie, here to save her, but why? Sure, he had feelings for her, but that was it. What could drive him, with his feelings, to the center of the Earth? It was one girl – okay, fine, one very important girl to him – but it seemed ridiculous the extent he was going to for her. Diving down not one, but two holes or chasms, into pure darkness, going to face who knows what - all just save her.

But he could’ve left all this to another person, or asked Athena – no Ava, look him now, calling them ancient gods and goddesses – to make another plan. It would’ve been simple, really. Yet, here he was.

He wanted to laugh. Or rather, he tried to laugh. But he couldn’t really open his jaw, so he body was just sort of trembling, but not really, since the wind was still binding him. I must be going crazy.

And then, he landed on the ground. There was no cracking of bones, no fractures, his body was in one piece, and it was like nothing had ever happened. He just…touched down on something hard – concrete; he could feel it through his sneakers – without even a sound. It gentle, like a feather floating down. He blinked a few times, looked down at feet, realized he couldn’t see them, and had to bend down to feel the rubber material of his shoes, then feel the ground underneath them to confirm that he really was on the ground, and not having a hallucination.

He still couldn’t see, but the fact that he was out of the room before, and out of a free-fall in one working piece was better than anything else. He stepped forward slowly and carefully, putting his arms out like a blind person or zombie (he must look like the latter, after all he had fallen through) and moved them out to the side then back, like he was trying to push his way through a crowd.

His footsteps echoed around the room, making him think that it was large, really large, and that there weren’t any openings around him. No, the echo was way too loud. If there were a door, his footsteps would’ve been quieter, since the sound waves would’ve escaped. After playing in many concert halls and small rooms, he’d learned to see with his ears, and now, he was grateful for that.

One day, I’ll be able to tell my friends that I have miracle ears, and it won’t be just an exaggeration.

He continued to walk, using his ears to guide his way through whatever room he was in now. Sometimes, he would stop, turn around, and stomp, listen, then repeat on another side, until he had turned an entire 360 degrees. Then he would move toward whichever sound seemed quieter. There would be fewer walls there, at least, if there weren’t a door or window.

Every time he took a step in a new direction, he still couldn’t help but think he was going the wrong way. More than once, he wanted to turn around, backtrack – what if he was actually stepping away from the way out, and was just trapping himself even more? He froze at the thought, but forced himself to move on. He had to trust himself – that was all he had here.

And if he went the wrong way, at least he tried.

The thought didn’t console him much, and he just tried to stop thinking at all He would doubt and regret too much if he gave himself room for thought. So he just forged forward, one step at a time, following his ears – hoping, always hoping, that he would see Sophie soon.

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These chapters are getting ridiculously short. o.o

Don't worry though. Tomorrow's chapter is WAYYYY longer.