Chapter Two

     Chapter Two

     1

He loosened the jacket, sat me in a waiting wheelchair accustomed with its own four point restraints and wasted no time securing my wrists and ankles.  I then listened to its squeaky wheels as he ushered me closer to the pit of hell.

"Good morning, Echo," the smiling doctor greeted.  He sat behind a fortress designed by wealth and power.

"My name isn't Echo," I croaked.

"Who are you then," he asked coolly.  "Am I talking with Lyric now?"

I shook my head.  The servant parked me before him.

"Pippa," Dr. Sannard said, "is that you?"

I shook my head.  The servant adjusted my chair.

"Then who are you?"

"I am smoke and red-hot coals.  I am evening shadows and a solitary bird."

Dr. Sannard leaned forward on his elbow and rubbed his chin with a thumb.  He nodded at the orderly as he bowed out of the room.  From the corner of my eye I watched his ebony profile and listened to his large key ring as keys slapped together.  Soon they faded as he shuffled further into the heart of….

 "Echo," Dr. Sannard said.  "We should identify the cause behind your fantasies." 

"The grave spits in my face.  My bed is made in darkness.  Disease eats my skin," I replied.

Sannard reached inside his jacket and withdrew a ball point pen.  From a clear plastic tray he pulled out a folder, opened it, turned a dozen pages and then started to scribble words.  His three piece business suit demanded appreciation; his manicured hands free of blemishes and age.

"These delusions are never ending.  Have you been taking your medications?  There is documented evidence detailing how you spit the pills out or throw them up," Sannard said dully.

"Your mind controlling substances will not infect me," I countered.

"If you won't take them orally they will be administered through other means."

Long silver teeth sinking into flesh never made nightmares cease.  Even if their venom seeped into my veins I refused to become another zombie.  I kicked against the restraints.  The damn things kept me immobile; they kept me from leaping across that f*****g desk and biting his throat out!

"I am a god," I screamed.  "I am the Crimsons Warrior!"

Dr. Sannard sighed.  His forehead wrinkled as he scratched his temple.  He tapped the pen against a thick heap of documents, took a deep breath in before lifting his gaze, and paused a moment longer.

"Increasing certain medications might be in your best interest," he stated.  Regal arrogance sparkled in his cool blue depths.  He discarded my claim.

"Putrid mortal b*****d," I seethed and tried to launch myself at him.  The restraints refused this action, kept me pinned in my chair, and I swore under my breath.

He gestured with his pen to a red button over his shoulder.  Centered in the wall it glared at me.  He didn't have to explain any further.  I already knew all too well what to expect.

"When was the last time you slept," he asked.

"You don't understand," I said.  "I can't sleep."

He leaned forward and briefly looked over a paragraph in heavy black type.  Then as his stare met mine he asked, "Are you having trouble falling asleep or staying asleep?"

I shook my head.  "If I sleep hell will bleed into reality."

And so the truth loomed over him.  He rubbed the bridge of his nose and leaned back in his chair.

Knitted bones and sinews preserved mysteries of the underworld.  Trusted advisers-

"Echo," he said and my thoughts snapped.

"I have to throw up," I then said and before he could react a dark river gushed from my mouth.

Pushing back from his desk, the swivel chair squeaked.  Dr. Sannard raised a quivering hand and covered his mouth.  He used the other to press the red button while another bleak stream projected toward him.  It showered documents, plastic trays and Dr. Sannard.

My insides ached.

“If only I could tell you,” I spat.  “Maybe the truth would benefit you, but I am not free to disclose it just yet. There are many mysteries in this universe. Some fall right into your head while others elude you at every turn. This is to be expected because some things you cannot begin to understand. Humans think they are capable of knowing, but they have yet to acknowledge they are an animal as arrogant as ever. There might have been a time when I could have admired that, but now….”  I coughed before continuing.   “Arrogance keeps them from evolving. It is the very foundation of their ignorance and…still…I do not wish upon them destruction because you…. I cannot wish that upon you; will not succumb to prejudice.”

The Celestine prophet hadn’t anticipated the events that commenced after fire and wind. Even as it consumed cities and reduced mankind too few numbers the magic behind the entity was a true testament to skill and determination. Perhaps it was just those magnitudes that led to his discovery. Even as I sit here hunched over I cannot say with all certainty. Though it is in my power to see all and know all I confess myself lost and forsaken by my gifts. I should have known this would happen. Am I not an outcast from the Ancient order?

As the sky grows dim over the horizon I behold wonders at the center of my strengths. Seldom does one in my position sit to appreciate what I have helped to create. I draw my memories of it from a long and furious line of others. Still, it does little to help the situation at hand. He has returned. It wouldn’t have been so if my people had not resurrected him from destruction. In my arrogant opinion he doesn’t deserve to come back, but for the sake of reason I permit it.

I release my hold on the sky and it brightens to full blue once again. I can make it any color I choose. It is fun, especially when playing with a mortal mind, but don’t get the idea I am “evil”. The only true being of my nature that is evil would be Krosnos and…well a few others I imagine.   Evil is a human word invented to point blame and create chaos. That is one thing that I love about humans. They are so willing to kill one another and for petty differences. The Ancient ones will inherit the Earth. The Ancient Ascension is in its beginning stages, but with any luck we will prevail.

In the air a fragrance of carnage floats to my nostrils. It might as well be the sweetest fragrance I have ever bothered to breathe. I will not pretend to have a taste for peace when peace benefits only the faint of heart. However, I do believe in harmony only if one has earned it. Have humans earned it? Some have I think, but for the most part they are creatures whose emotions are tangled in actions. I find it absolutely rubbish. Of course it doesn’t matter in the slightest. They will suffer unto fiends most deserving of their flesh. Well, enough of that though. I must busy myself with plans and corruption if I want to succeed with my comrades.

I am the diseased. Marked by nightmares, betrayed by trust, I am the world of terror and the boundaries which no mortal shall ever cross. Appearance brewed in poison enlists a new form of maintenance. Wandering these endless depths in a reserved abyss it has become quite clear they learn nothing from the weight of war.

Alone and weary, hope overlooks the rocky inlet below. One step ceases in wet sand. What is the gift of death but not a mere taste of bliss? One can carry on through generations counting the bits of dirt before me and still arrive at nothing.

And here before me stands the very impiety of soiled presence. As chaos forged light and dark, heaven and earth, so does the fabric of time establish imbeciles to the flavors most unsound. Bound to realms undying and without trying chastity sours with every stroke of the might hand. Humbled theories are atrocious at best. And yet here they are.

2

Calm waters washed over loose sand as a pair of feet burrowed underneath. Red toenails curled, wiggled and writhed as more gentle waves splashed over them and exposed them to a cool summer evening's breeze. Legs they belonged to twisted and shook as I sat upright, my yellow straw hat pulled down just above my brows. Gingerly my fingers traced the lump of my navel. The protruding flesh was tender and sent shockwaves of pain up and across my abdomen.

Here the doctors had no power.

I pulled off my dark sunglasses and titled my head for a peek. Mine was no longer the figure of a youthful twenty-something year old. After two pregnancies, one which ended in miscarriage and the other plagued with worry and woe, and then the surgeries, I was lucky to be alive. However as I gazed down at the sagging flesh, limp and flabby breasts I wondered if luck had anything to do with it.

And then a river washed over me. It poured from a pair of distorted hands. Hair curled as it sizzled. Flesh bubbled and boiled, stripped away from bone as it melted.

Awake in the darkness of your own doing, sang a voice.

Darkness...as my eyes fluttered open all I saw was unending darkness. Pushing myself up my fingers clawed at loose earth and rocky lumps. Dry clumps drove under my fingernails. It poked like hot needles and-

-burned like battery acid! Remember how it devoured her face? Her skin melted like searing candle wax while her eyes popped like a pair of grapes!

I shook my head. The voice hammered against my brain. I held my ears though it had not sounded beyond the recess of my mind. When it faded to a mere whisper I lowered my hands. Arduous memory fragments produced an abridged torrent to flicker behind my eyelids as I clamped them shut. They flicked as a faltering bulb might in a damaged socket; revealing brief details out of sequence.

Lime threads slashed through. They sparkled like a curtain of gemstones. Adjusting to their brightness, I squinted. In their magnetic pulse I discovered the contents of my surroundings. Littered with toppled and splintered columns, mammoth ceiling and bone bits, I staggered to my feet.

Never again shall the monster stir, I thought and again slipped into unconsciousness.

Mystic beauty, for each man, held a meaning of its own. As my eyes fluttered open I thought I knew what it was, but now as my mind absorbed my surroundings I forgot. I squinted against the harsh glow of florescent lights as my focus cleared. I raised a hand as a shield, but as I adjusted to its blinding lights I found myself incredibly alone.

I pushed myself up onto my knees and winced. Bits of broken tile and plaster made for an uncomfortable sit and I reached under to fish out the loathsome chunks. I tossed them to the other side of the room at which I noticed her reflection.

I raised a trembling hand to sketch my prominent nose and high cheek bones. My eyes were black, round and well placed. Too bad I didn't recognize them or the person they belonged to. I flinched. Both sides of my mouth were purple, swollen and tender. Across the bow, a cut hooked to the side and branched in two directions. They seemed to stretch a few inches where another circular weave throbbed. The blood had since congealed but still appeared fresh and I poked at the thought of how silly it was my memory failed me. However silly wasn't the word to describe it and my teeth clenched.

I glanced to my left, then to my right. Spying a metal pipe clamped to a decayed tiled wall, I reached for it and pulled myself up. A bolt fell loose, spun and came to rest at my toes. I nudged it with my heel and saw it spiral a few inches out in front of me. I leaned my forehead against the wall and sighed.

I jerked at the sound of a squeak. Spinning on my heels, I caught sight of a long metallic yellow door as it slid open. An aura of green light filtered in followed by a swell of fog. I stared into it, my blood pulsing in my ears as hot beads of sweat wrung up across my forehead and popped.

My chest grew heavy. Though every fiber of my being quivered at the idea, I shuffled forward. As the green dark hole drew near I repeatedly told myself there was nothing there, nothing waiting for me.  Shimmering beneath lime highlights, another fractured column lay in my path as I turned. Its marble sections, battered and decayed, yawned like-

 -ribs after the ax pulled free from her chest! Merely one swing and the blade sliced clean through! It sounded similar to tree branches snapping!

 "Shut up," I screamed.

The deep, resonating voice that ripped from my throat dripped with bass. In the shockwave following walls peeled like oranges while the floor rippled and flaked. I watched their pieces ascend into nothingness as an interminable shadow inhabited maze fell into place.

"And thy kingdom come," I whispered, recognizing the many twists, winding turns and impossible angles of bleeding, pulsating stone. "Across broken stone ashes lie thick. In ruins I stand alone. Fixed eyes stare endlessly. A bitter winter's passing displays pits of decay. Proof swindles deep hollows. Great miracles and hopes grant gray endeavors. Nothing in somber engagement is solved. Destiny sings a melancholic tune. End comes far too soon. To all big and small it happens. Figures stationed in earth and mortars hasten despair. I wear it as my own skin; my eternal cry, a desperate call. Into an endless cavity I spin senseless. Ashes fall. I am imprisoned behind a wall maze. Still eyes stare. Winter clings to dare. Stone hearts surrender nothing. And together we shall fall."

I paused. Over an ill horizon maimed forms took shape. They were masses of warped metal and powder. Windows were cracked. A few even shattered. Plaster holding walls together were fissured and unstable. The astringent cold nauseated an already polluted atmosphere and I realized I was home and seeing human life through a memory.

My elaborate fiery locks flowed behind me as though a lake of fire had ripped open around me. My eyes, wide and blazing rubies, penetrated those who dared look into them. A row of quivering bodies knelt at my feet as I paced from the wood podium to the stainless glass window and still the question was left unanswered.

"Where is your god," she asked the gathering crowd of survivors. "Where is the love promised?"

Rigid limbs suspended on convulsing walls by severed hands stretched upward into eternity. Steaming skulls freshly stripped of flesh lay stacked underneath. Darkness slithered across my face, broke it open to expose a revolting lesion that sucked and smacked like a pair of wet lips. From the halves scurried madness on thousands of legs. They promptly leapt at those kneeling, pleading and still believing in human kind and as my face sewed together again those generated beasts devoured the righteous and proud.