Inai Ni Yami ((Within Darkness)) {{FINISHED}}

Inai Ni Yami ((An Original Story)) Chapter 21

Chapter 21

A bed... Warm, cushioned. Large. It was the first things I noticed as I came to. I opened my eyes to a black ceiling. The bed I lay on had a four poster canopy colored black, silver silk hanging off the black metal. The actual sheets around me were pure white, patterns of... Cherry blossoms on the bed? Wait... what are cherry blossoms? I tried to think back to that train of thought that had produced the name but... nothing. Frustrated, I stood off the bed. Red silk trailed behind me, and I realized I was wearing a silky red nightgown. With a rose... rose... what's a rose?

Frustration hit again as I tried to solve what was going on in my head. Nothing came to mind. Nothing made sense. Either I was going mad or... or I don't know what.

I walked through the black, empty room, the only furniture in it being a marble table at the foot of the bed and the bed itself. The room was big, too big for comfort and perfectly square. To the left of the bed were two doors and to the right, a large opening. A... window. Curious, I pressed my palm against the cool translucent material of the window and looked outside. My mind expected to see a vast "sky" of blue colors swimming around, and some large red ball of fire in the air called the "sun." But what I saw was no where near that.

It was dark, morbid. A city lay a few miles away, lights surrounding it from every angle and lighting it up. The lights were harsh, even to my eyes. Not warm... not like the "sun." I brought a hand up to my face, blinking away the afterimages produced by the light. And I also realized that, in place of the blue "sky" I'd imagined, there were rocks. It was like a cave... was this a cave? Was I in a cave? Puzzled, I pushed at the window, hoping to open it somehow. I pushed for a few minutes before realizing there was a handle to the side. I pulled, and the window slid to the side.

With one hand, I reached out. A breeze of something hit my hand. I couldn't call it air though. Not unless there were air pockets from above to... to... What am I thinking? Confusion settled in, and I stepped forward, one bare foot slowly pushing me up onto the sill of the window. The breeze came harder. Hints of two small scents hit my nose, and I was surprised I could even identify them. Sulfur... and blood. What was this place?

"This isn't right... I shouldn't be here, should I?" Why can't I remember? Do I not have any memories? Have I lost them? What's going on? I stepped closer to view and looked below. It was a large cliff. This place, this house, was on a large cliff. And at the end... I could see red eyes. That's not a normal eyes color. Is it normal? Why isn't it normal. Maybe it can me normal. Why am I thinking like this?

Low growls came from the red eyes, and more questions came about. Were they lions? What are lions? Were they carnivorous? What did carnivorous mean? Was it possible for them to somehow climb up the cliff? I thought about that. No. They would've done that already if they could. Then... were they guarding this place? What for? Was it... important? But then why would I be here? I don't feel important, unless that's also something I forgot. Or did I just never have memories? Forgotten or never knowing?

I shook my head. Both sounded horrible.

To my sides, I saw nothing bu vegetation, and then the large cave like walls the surrounded the place. From what I could see, there was no way out. None at all. Which meant I was trapped here. There had to be more people if there was a city, but who were they? Would they really help me, especially since I don't know who I am?

Frustrated, I shook my head. Obviously if I'm here, in a house with silk things and expensive looking furniture -even if it lacks in the homey feeling most houses should have- then someone must be looking over me. Right? There's nothing to worry about, I told myself. Somehow, I will figure things out. Somehow, I'll remember everything and find out what is wrong with my head! Because it's starting to bug me that I keep saying -thinking- words that I know mean something but I don't know what.