Ethereal: Trials of the Damned (On Hold!)

Chapter One: Waking Nightmare

Damaged.

Hopeless.

A string of similar remarks began to flood her mind. They filled every inch of her soul, with the most hurtful ones latching onto her heart. They throbbed in her chest, scraping against the walls, as though trying to draw blood.

Worthless. The voices continued in raspy whispers. They attacked with the intention to weigh her down. She knew it. And she allowed it. She let them drown out her very being. In them, she would soon lose herself. Maybe then, nothingness would finally consume her.

"Beyond repair," a voice spat, venom lacing its tone.

The words stirred something within her and she began to regain parts of her consciousness. Her eyelids fluttered open, but only momentarily before the blinding light forced them shut. All she wanted to feel was complete and utter numbness.

"Weak too," the same voice threw out disapprovingly. "What a shame."

Her eyebrows furrowed in response. Something about the way the voice addressed her felt degrading. And for the first time, in a long time, she could not ignore it.

Her eyes snapped open and she was greeted by a woman she did not recognize. The woman looked shattered, her eyes void of life, of soul. Her skin was a ghastly shade of ash, her long hair unruly and frayed from the root to its tip. The woman was drenched, and there was a large amount of bruising. Splotches of blues and purples, handprints on the forearm, scraped knees, and lasting scars across the wrists painted across her naked body.

"She's quite a sight, isn't she?" The voice boomed from nowhere in particular.

Instead of following the source of the sound, her gaze remained fixated on the woman before her. The woman returned the look with vacant eyes, standing absolutely still. It was only then that she caught sight of the small beam of light radiating behind the woman.

The source of light started out small and began to expand, rapidly encasing around the woman's silhouette. It engulfed her in its radiance, transforming her ghostly complexion into a colorful distortion. She could see the main parts of the woman's body, but it was like she was viewing them through tiny shards of shiny glass with irregular edges, as though she was looking at her through a kaleidoscope.

As the intensity of the colours brightened, her head began to throb. The pain shot through the center, spreading to her temples. It pounded against the back of her head and settled above the nape of her neck. She clenched her fists and closed her eyes. The familiar yet overwhelming sensation affected her balance, and she stumbled back.

"Eira, do you recognize her?" The voice had returned. It grabbed onto her shoulders and steadied her.

She spun around almost instantly, just barely catching the faceless voice materialize before her. It took the form of older man with a clean-shaven round face, pudgy built, and a balding head. He wore black trousers, a loose, white button-down and black dress shoes. He stared at her, and then his lips curved up. Within seconds, she recognized him.

"Al," she let out as she reached for the man's face. He swiftly took a step back, gracefully dodging her touch.

"Do you recognize her?" he repeated, staring past her.

Eira turned around to face the woman, but she was nowhere to be seen. In her place stood what she could only describe as intangible energy. It took no form, yet resembled the woman with unexplainable uncanniness. Its form fluctuated, swaying between that of the woman's silhouette and a blob of nothing in particular. It flowed, constantly moving, ever-changing. The only thing prominent about it were the colors it exuded. The dark hues emanated a spectrum of dreadful emotions, each unfathomably raw and haunting.