THE DARK ALPHA'S CURSE

CHAPTER ELEVEN

    Chapter Eleven: Ralph's Death.

As I delved deeper into the pack bond, I sank into a black darkness, solid as an armoured tank, and I fell deeper, faster, half fearing the impact, half wanting it.

     The fall sped up, gravity suddenly heavy, and voices wailed around me from the darkness, crying profanities.

I couldn't make out the words clearly, but one voice came out clear, different from the others, but distinctly sounding like a vibrating effect had been used to mask it.

     "YOU DID THIS! YOU DID THIS! I TRUSTED YOU, AND YOU DID THIS!", it yelled repeatedly.

    As I flailed in space, I tried to make out the direction it came from, but each time I felt I'd gotten its location, it disappeared, to sound from another entirely different space.

     Soon, all the voices echoed it, and I felt hands reaching out for me in the bleary darkness, cold, long fingered hands that ended in talons, scraping at my skin, inflicting me with such pain that I felt only Jesus would understand.

    Each cut was loaded with short memories, some happy, some painfully sad, and others of pure grief.

    Instantly, I knew what was happening.

Ralph was dying, and had subconsciously let me into his mind.

    Each cut turned around, marking me exactly where his captors had marked him, and a gale picked up, twirling me around with tremendous speed, the wind joining in the yelling, calling me a betrayer.

I felt a stab in my lower abdomen, near my left hip, the weapon bursting my spleen, ripping it out completely.

     I tried to scream.
I mean, I really tried to.

But the sound didn't even voice in my head, and my mouth wouldn't move.

     I shook my head, as more hands bound my limbs, their metallic coldness burning hot against my iced heart.

     Finally, the movement stopped, and I hung suspended in space, and the yelling dulled down to an eerie hushed whispering, as though whatever held me captive in the shared Mindloom I created was deciding my fate.

     I wisely kept quiet.
Okay, not wisely.
I couldn't even voice my thoughts if I wanted, so speaking was totally off the track.

      I only knew, deep down, somehow, that whatever held me here was one of the few things alive strong enough to kill me.
Heck, if it could hijack a Mindloom, much more, MY Mindloom, it could defeat me hands down.

     A Mindloom is the powerful evocative essence of creation solely made possible by sheer willpower and absolute belief in one's self.

Hijacking it meant to break into the creator's head, prying over his control over his own mind.

    Imagine it like trying to burst into the White House on the 4th of July, to kill the President, with no other force than your fists.

That is how well protected the normal Human Mind is, and Practitioners have well built super defense systems ranging from simple Mindmines to the more complex Mindhollow.