Pearseus: Schism

Croix

Moments earlier, Croix had been dreaming. A joyful light surrounded him as he sat on a hill overlooking a lush forest. The sun warmed his bones and he closed his eyes, stretching cat-like to enjoy it. The light danced on his skin while the grass caressed his body. He could not remember the last time he had felt so serene and sighed contentedly as a deep sense of calmness permeated every fibre of his body, making him lose track of time. A voice called him. He could not see who it belonged to, but did not care either. He shut his eyes and tried to ignore it, succeeding only for a while.

“Gerard?” whispered the voice.

His fists clenched, tearing up a few blades of grass. “Yes…”

“Welcome to your new home.”

“It’s beautiful…”

“You will make it even more so. Your name will be sung forever.”

A satisfied smile crawled on his face. Then he noticed a second presence; a sweet, sad, melodic voice that chilled him.

“Gerard, don’t listen to them. They lied to you. They made you come here, made you kill everyone.”

“Not everyone! Many survived!” Blood rushed to his head, painting his face crimson.

“For how long? Can’t you see the danger all around you?” the voice insisted.

Darkness rushed to meet him as fear overwhelmed him. He started to tremble when a fog of sadness surrounded him, drowning out the light. The two voices fought in his head.

“Gerard! Don’t listen to them! They are lying!”

“Lying?” the other voice rasped. “The whispers brought you here, didn’t they? Did they tell you why? Did they tell you what was here?”

“A new world, that’s what. A world we’ll help you build. People will remember you forever!”

The voices confused him and he shivered as they now made him feel cold and scared. He jumped to his feet and bolted away from the voices, into a dark forest, away from the light-kissed precipice. Whispers and voices followed him, while strange silhouettes hurried behind him. His heart pounded as fear grew into panic and he stumbled on a root, falling hard on the ground. He bit his tongue and felt the sharp pain as the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth and he spat, cursing. He jerked back on his feet, his whole body trembling. The voices around him reached a crescendo, some whispering, others yelling.

The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as a terrible creature stood over him, a wild man taller and bigger than anyone he had ever seen. The creature raised a huge axe to lunge at him. Croix vaulted to the side, narrowly escaping the first strike, but the man swung his monstrous axe once again. This time it struck Croix right in the chest, almost cutting him in half, and he screamed in agony. Thick blood gushed from the wound as the man removed his axe and whirled it around for the final blow.

Croix woke up with a loud cry. Thick sweat covered his trembling body. In his confusion, he felt certain it was blood. He felt his chest for the wound, his fingers pressing instead against a small gun. His brow furrowed in confusion, then he remembered taking it from the pod’s small armoury before going to sleep. He examined the small but lethal weapon, still trying to tell reality from dream, when he heard alarmed cries. He froze, seeing the creature from his dream about to attack one of the engineers. Why isn’t anyone doing something? Then he realised he probably held the only weapon outside the pod.

Removing the gun’s safety, he held it with both his shaking hands. His finger squeezed the trigger, as a whisper at the back of his head turned into a laugh so loud that it drowned out the cries telling him to stop. The creature growled and spun around. Then he shot again. And again.