AuthorLeftright
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Chapter 5: Pieces
🕑 Added 2022-12-13 21:06:07 +0000 UTCDan felt the slow bumps before his mind caught up. He was dreaming of a pogo stick, bouncing down the street and past his house. Only, something was wrong. Each jump pulsed pain through his skull and chest, each second brought him to the brink of insanity. The sky turned dark just before he woke up, blood leaked through purple cracks and hundreds of eyes peered through-
He jolted, stumbling to sit up.
His breath swayed, his lungs finding it hard to inhale. He groaned, grabbing his head with arms covered in blood. Everything was wet, everything was soaked in crimson. He suppressed a scream, remembering.
As Dan stitched his mind back together, he made a connection to his other senses. He felt the bumps, he saw the cage he was in, he tasted iron, he heard the creaks of spinning wheels, and finally, he smelled excrement.
The smell took Dan out of his inner thoughts and made him really look around. It was awful, like sewage mixed with medical waste. It was a smell he remembered, a smell that, before the last few days, Dan had never known. It was the smell of death, of loss of bodily function, of a dead body. He traced the smell through the bloody wasteland, finding a small open air trailer being pulled along.
It was the mangled corpse of Bob. He looked as if he had been cut in parts by laser or bandsaw, each slice being perfectly smooth and at odd angles. He was in pieces, and whoever placed his body on the trailer didn’t even have the common decency to put his body back together. Instead he was just in a lazy pile, like someone was simply picking up trash.
Dan froze, the situation finally making a splash. He was in a cage, his only ally on this world was dead, and he was being toted away from the safe haven of the lifeboat. He had been captured, while Bob had been killed. His heart raced, adrenaline pumping.
Dan threw all of his weight into the metal casted cage, rebounding off it harmlessly. He heard snickers at that. Four sets of eyes watched the lowly electrician struggle, while one set ignored him completely.
They were traveling by carriage or buggy, wood and pounded metal. Each rock and each dip in the path bounced the rotten transport, sending more pain through Dan. He accepted reality at that moment, recognizing his capture. He was powerless while the hooded figures were dominant.
Dan screamed.
In that moment, he felt like it was the best thing to do. But, as a zap of green energy blasted a shallow hole into his thigh, he quickly realized that he was foolish. One of the figures yelled something at Dan, while the leader pulled the reins to stop the carriage itself.
Each captor produced their staves, powering color at their respective apex. They were preparing to defend. The sudden light revealed much of the surrounding area, giving Dan horrible dread. They were moving uphill, gone was the red grass, gone were most of the trees. They were pushing towards a mountain, one that seemed to ebb and flow as if breathing.
After a tense three minutes, the leader snipped out a command and the others all dissolved their spells. The twin monsters attached to the carriage huffed, resuming their job. They were atrocious things, mixes of blood and viscera. Without faces but with long feeler arms that crawled around the ground in slow deliberate movements. Matted fur dragged against the muddy rocks, pushing most of the rough hazards out of the way for the wheels.
Dan felt the urge to scream again, the horses that pulled them were too much for his feeble mind. Only his smoldering wound tethered him to reality, the pain being enough to make him think. Bob was dead, he was captured, what about his core? Even though his situation was dire, Dan was glad his core was still intact and growing.
It was smaller than before, having brought to life the power needed to create an orb of light, but it was slowly regenerating. That caused Dan to pause. He had completely failed his mission. While he was able to take out one of the hunters for a few moments, he failed to produce anything worthwhile. Bob and the lone man suffered because of it.
It was then that Dan realized the cage he was trapped in was a shared residence. He didn’t notice at first, the being was completely covered in an odd leather blanket. The spindly man gave him a gruesome smile. The man was in pain and broke, his body being ripped nearly in thirds.
The image of three glowing red arrows bursting into his lanky figure came back to the electrician. How the man was alive, Dan didn’t know.
“I guess they got us, I’m so sorry,” Dan said, knowing that his words would be lost.
The man shifted his broken frame, inching closer. Mutters came from his mouth, all variations of clicks and pops. Even with the connection their cores shared, Dan couldn’t understand. Before, the situation paired with hand gestures was enough for communication, but now everything was lost.
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”
Dan knew it didn’t matter at this point. Bob was dead, the man was dying, and he himself was captured. There were monsters in the area around them, and… magic was real.
The realization bloomed like a sunrise after a tornado. Hope mixed in Dan’s heart. There had to be something he could do, right? Right…? He slumped back, defeated. While he thought the man had healed his ankle in the forest, he had no way of knowing if that was actually true. For all Dan knew, the man could have enchanted his foot to run faster.
Even if healing magic was real, he had no idea where to begin. The man was in critical condition, only holding on to life with sheer willpower. Then there was the language barrier, and who knew if their captors would allow for such displays. Maybe they would kill them on the spot.
The man inched closer again, pain and exhaustion clambering within his broken body.
“Don’t… don’t do that,” Dan pleaded. “Just lay still, please.”
The man didn’t care for the sad words and slid over again. Then again. A haunted finger escaped the leather blanket, shaking its way to Dan’s foot. Like the man’s hand had just run a marathon, it crashed into Dan’s boot devoid of power. Then he lifted it up and dropped it again.
“Please stop.”
His hand raised, then fell.
“I don’t know what you want. Just lay back and rest.”
Dan’s boot was nudged again.
“I can’t help you.”
Their eyes met, one set being that of a human and watering, the other a desperate humanoid monster calloused in wounds and blood.
A warmth flooded Dan’s core and for a brief moment he felt serenity?Scrambled ideas of whispers and magic invaded his mind, all without hostile intent or barging pain. He understood in that moment, something shifted in his shattered mind. Something was raised from the depths of his core.
Death.
Dan hunched over the dying man and brought his face close. He strained his ears, listening for any last words. He wouldn’t understand, but there was solidarity in knowing you weren’t alone for your last moments. Or at least, Dan hoped.
There were no words, no clicks or pops. There was only a gentle hiss, like an open propane tank – or lungs that finally let go. A white mist formed from the man’s lips and wafted out and up.
Dan reeled back, surprised. The mist was familiar, it was soft. It resonated with Dan’s core, to the point where his instincts told him to lean in. The white exhale brushed against his face, aligning itself with his mouth and nose. He breathed in, accepting the man’s last breath and completing the ritual.
Transfer.
His mind echoed with the word, his understanding fluttering with greed and admiration. Strange emotions came to Dan, some foreign and alien, others real and familiar. He groaned as hot iron pressed into his core, moments later freezing water doused his mind. Words and values invaded with a grudge, pulling together their splinters and shocking his nerves.
His body seized, his eyes glowing white-gold. A light came to life within his chest, highlighting his veins through his pink-amber skin. More words, more, more, more. Something snapped. Something ruptured. Everything stopped in place. Half created words froze, nearly complete values went into stasis.
Just before passing out, Dan’s core urged him to read what was freshly transcribed. It roared with glorious song, harmonizing and elevating the warmth within his body. He dared to look.
Light: Salvation 0.1
Light: Control 0
Light: Aspect 0
Light: War 0
Light: ░ ░ ░ ░
Dan woke to stone and a riddling chill. His jumpsuit was wet with blood and torn across his chest. A spiral black tattoo of ash and blood swirled along his skin, emanating from where he felt his core to be. He groaned, sitting up in a jerk. A rumble cascaded through his body at the motion, grinding his muscles and organs to a halt.
For a full minute he didn’t breathe, he didn’t move. His heart beat at the slowest speed possible. He felt his blood flow and pressure wane. His mind stuttered, basking in the much needed reprieve. It corrected and patched, situating the frozen chunks of his core. Like setting a broken bone, his core grew in strength as it healed, reinforcing itself.
Once finished, Dan sucked in a dozen full lungfuls of air. He was alive and that was all that mattered to him at this moment. The last week, and especially the last day, was dangerous to an extent he could hardly fathom. Granted he was asleep for most of it, he understood that he had nearly died plenty of times over… Just like Lambert, George, Bob, and the lone man.
Dan’s mind wandered as he looked around. He was in a small stone room, no windows, bed, chair, table, nothing but a single metal door, one faceted with metal bars. He was in a jail cell, that much was apparent.
He thought about the lone man. Whatever he was, he helped Dan. While Dan may have been better off not getting involved, the man did try to escape with him and Bob. It didn’t work, of course, but that didn’t matter. What he really cared about was the white mist that he inhaled.
It had done something to him. It created an understanding? It bridged the gaps within his shattered mind, fueling him with knowledge previously unknown? Dan shook his head, that wasn’t right, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on the concept. It was like… like…
Transfer.
Dan understood, even though he really didn’t. The man had given him something. The gift of knowledge, the gift of power.
Idly he felt for his core, touching upon the new features next to Light: Salvation. Information came to him, flooding his mind in unfiltered jargon and hieroglyphs. Dan pushed everything down, finding his nose bleeding. He knew he should have stopped there, but he wanted to know. He needed to. His life may very well be in the hands of his newfound power. His newfound magic.
He smiled at the thought, muting the horrors and anguish that plagued his mind. Right now, more than anything, he wanted to feel the warmth his core gave off. He wanted to harness the energy that could kill monsters. He wanted to feel safe, and he knew no one else was here to protect him. Bob was dead, the lone man was dead. He was alone, and he needed to survive.
Light: Control came to him first. The information was crude and coarse. It fought against him as he fought back. It was tough, deciphering a language that wasn’t his own, but Dan found something worthy in the pain. There was no direct translation, only a general description.
Light moves to your will.
It was hardly anything, but he felt proud of the accomplishment. The description was so deep and stuck, it made removing himself from the blood beast’s petrify seem like child’s play. He knew he only had his core to thank. After finding it and honing himself to its reality, he felt like he could do anything.
It was then that he decided. After pulling out the other descriptions, he would look for a way to escape. While the forest was full of hideous monsters, it beat being locked in a cell, not knowing what his captors planned to do with him. They already showed that they were willing to kill, what’s one more? Recentering himself, Light: Aspect was next.
Modify light.
Dan raised an eye at the description, rubbing off a drop of blood from his upper lip. There wasn’t much to go off of, so he continued on to Light: War.
Manifest in strength.
This description came with an image. It was one of his own, but the description pointed him to it. The memory of holding the hooded brute’s staff resounded. Dan felt powerful at that moment, he wanted to attack, he wanted to kill. It was adrenaline, he knew. He had never wanted to hurt somebody like that before. It was fight or flight, it was survival.
The image from his core focused on a different aspect of the memory, however. He saw the man in his created dome of light. Spears of white shot out, stabbing into the blood rain and cutting into two enemies. It was carnage, it was magic. It was war.
Dan understood. Light: War was an attack magic… a spell? Maybe. A concept? He didn’t know. And he wouldn’t be able to find out for a while. His core was still regrowing, but even then he didn’t think he could create a spear of light. In fact, the only thing he knew he could create was an orb.
Light: Salvation was the only portion of his core with a value other than zero. Frankly he was annoyed. The orb almost got him killed. It was all the power he could summon, and it was nothing more than a glorified lamp.
Still, it was magic as far as he was concerned. It brought him hope.
He stood, wobbling as he went. The repressed feelings came back in this moment. Dread, fear, resentment, anxiety. His chest squeezed as he peered past the metal bars of his door. He felt wind against his face, he smelled something other than filth and iron. It was only a hallway, one with sickly green-red light. He pulled back.
It was the light of the staves the hooded figures carried. It made him nauseated and deterred him from looking again, but he was able to get enough of a layout. One direction led to the light, the other was darkness. However, from the darkness he felt the wind. An open window, a propped door. Whatever it was, he was heading into the dark. Light only meant civilization, it meant his captors.
Just then a scream sounded. It echoed off the stone walls from far down the lit hallway. A creak of metal, followed by a reverberating door slam, found Dan’s ears. He listened for more, but nothing came.
In the meantime, he inspected the door itself. He put his weight on one particularly weak looking bar. It didn’t budge. He scratched at the stone connecting a hinge, it only bent his nail. Dan’s heart beat faster and faster, he wasn’t going to escape at this rate. He was going to die, he knew.
Before he started hyperventilating, footsteps clacked from the hallway. Each passing second they grew closer and closer.
Dan’s eyes widened and he quickly laid down and closed his eyes. He heard the jingling of keys, the pang of metal on metal, then the twist of a lock. Gears churned together, releasing a massive bolt hidden within the stone frame.
Dan forced himself to lay perfectly still as his captor entered his room. He didn’t so much as flinch when something wet touched him. A line of mucus trailed down his neck to his chest, where the person thumped the spiral tattoo of ash and blood. He heard a low chant before a flash of blue light bled through his eyelids.
The person stood and turned back to the door. Dan took this moment to chance a peek. He saw the back of a hooded hunter. Her towering height forced her to crouch in the small cell. She reached for the door, revealing a partially skeletal hand. What little there was of skin, was pale gray and shimmering with embedded gems. Each was scabbed over, like vile stud earrings.
Dan forced down a cry as an idea formed. This was it, his chance.
He silently got to his feet, his head still spinning. He swallowed, forcing down his fear for one last try. The hunter pulled the door open, and Dan charged.
All of his weight smashed into the back of the captor, throwing her into the wall with force. Dan didn’t so much as look at her, knowing that whatever he saw would only multiply his fears. He jumped over her and ran out the door. Running left, he barreled into the dark.
Wind was lightly pushing against him, he smiled at this, his eyes wide. He couldn’t see, his eyes not adjusted yet. It didn’t matter, he ran and ran. A dull outline appeared, the source of the wind, a window.
Dan practically jumped for joy when he found it unbarred. He climbed through it, finding a low roof. Following along, he ignored the shouts from back in the hallway, from back in the jail. Power radiated from behind him, magic he knew.
Jumping to the ground, Dan startled a being on his hands and knees. The man had a bucket full of, what looked to be, water. He had been rubbing a particular spot, but that wasn’t what Dan focused on. The man, being, monster, was horrendous. Dozens of eyes devoid of pupils and each long roared back in alarm. As the being stammered away, open wounds and rough bruises shone through his clothes and around the chains that bound him.
Dan’s mind spun at the being, he felt something trick in his head, threatening a relapse. If he focused on the man, he would be petrified again, or worse, his mind would shatter. He clasped his core, letting it fuel his bravery. It was a guiding light, pushing him to remember where he was. He needed to escape.
Running through a rickety camp, Dan kept his eyes down. He visibly turned away from movement, not letting himself see any of the residents. He followed the main path up a large hill. Steps had been carved into the steep cliffs, along with thin metal tracks. Chunks of rock littered the area, each looking to be chiseled rather than natural.
After climbing to the top of a set of rocky stairs, he turned and looked back at the camp. Dozens of hooded figures charged towards him with scepters holding bright flecks of power. Dan recognized the precursor to magic rather easily at this point, but didn’t focus on that for long. Instead, he saw the dome. All round the camp, a crimson red dome protected the huts and stone from the blood rain.
A blast of orange electricity whizzed past him, sending rock dust up in a massive flume. Dan ducked down, continuing down the path. A cut in the side of the mountain drew his attention. A cave, but not something he wanted to deal with. He might be able to hide for a while, but unless there was a second entrance/exit, he would be stuck.
A green orb of pulsating yellow flame sailed past him, missing by mere inches. Dan fell to the ground as the attack detonated against a higher portion of the mountain. Rocks and dirt fell, threatening to crush Dan if he didn’t move. He leapt. A mass of gravel landed where he lay just heartbeats ago.
Dan panted, looking deeper into the cave. It was not where he wanted to be, but, at least, the caved-in entrance would slow them down.
He grit his teeth as his adrenaline faded. With a defiant huff, he pushed down his fear and ventured into the cave.
