Erebus: Chapter 1 Continued

     I felt dizzy.
     "Connor," I sighed with relief.  "Where am I?"  I glanced around, but my mind couldn't really process anything, and the movement only made me dizzier.
     I realized I was on a bed when Connor sat down next to me.  He was gripping my hand tightly.
     "You're in the hospital."  The sentence sounded so overused, something out of a TV show, that it took me a moment to really register it.  I peered around, again.  It was true, down to the needle in my hand, hooking me up to the IV.
     "What happened?"  I tried to remember, but I had absolutely no recollection.  I did remember having a weird dream, with a huge castle in a swamp, and black animals with yellow eyes, but that seemed irrelevant.  But the more I thought about the dream, the more something nagged at the back of my mind, something that happened, just before I woke up.
     Connor sounded strained when he answered. "The EMTs said you went off the road.  You must have rolled, because your car was lying on its top," he paused.  When I looked at him, his face was stricken and his lips were pressed in a tight line.  He looked like he was about to cry.  I squeezed his hand, and he continued, his voice constricted.
     "They found you lying several yards from your car, in a grove of trees.  There was blood smeared everywhere, and weird gouges in the ground around you.  We still don't know what they're from."
     He fell silent, staring down at our hands clasped together.
     "How much blood did I lose?" I asked, although I didn't want to upset him any more than he already was.
     He frowned, then, his mouth still a thin line. "That's just the thing," he said. "You were thrown from the car, but you barely had a scratch.  The blood on you wasn't even yours."
     Now, it was my turn to frown.  I was starting to remember bits and pieces, now.  "I remember," I began, "I mean, I think I hit my head on the window."
     Connor shook his head.  "There's not a scratch.  The only mark you had was this," he said, picking up my other hand.  There was a bandage on it, but Connor gently pulled it aside, revealing a very red and swollen palm.  At first, I couldn't see anything.  Then I noticed a series of thin, red lines etched deeply into my skin.  They made a symmetrical pattern, with a mix of spikes and swirls.  The spikes almost looked like they made wings.
     I glanced back up at Connor, and studied his face.  The more I looked at him, the more prominent the dark shadows under his eyes were.  He looked terrible.  I took my hand away from his and touched his face.
     "I'm okay, Con," I murmured. "You can stop worrying."
     He took a long, ragged sigh, then stretched out next to me on the bed, twining his fingers with mine.
     "Where are my parents?" I asked suddenly. "Wait, does Westley know what happened?"  As much as my brother pretended not to, I knew he'd be anxious.
     As if on cue, Wes walked in at that moment.  He looked calm, but I knew him well enough to see that he was worried.  He walked over to the other side of my bed, and looked down at me.  His ten year-old face was tight, and his eyebrows were pulled together in a frown.
     "Mom and Dad told me what happened," he said quietly.  He looked me up and down, then his frown disappeared, replaced by his familiar cool, all-knowing expression. "I told them you were a terrible driver.  Looks like I'm right, again."  The corner of his mouth went up in a smirk.
     I glared at him. "Shove off, brat."

~*~*~*~

© B. J. Robertson

     Sorry, guys, I know it's not very much, but I haven't had a lot of time to write lately.  Hopefully, I'll get some more soon, but I can't guarantee anything, since I'm trying to get ready for my Senior pictures this Saturday.  But, we'll see.  Toodle-loo

Erebus: Introduction Continued & Chapter 1

     This brings me to Connor Ewoldt.  He's been my next door neighbor since I was little.  We were even born in the same hospital.  From the time we could walk, we were always playing together.  He's my best friend.  Then, we hit the ninth grade, and - yeah, you guessed it - we got together.  Not much changed.  We were still best friends, and we did all the same stuff we did before.  It was easy.
     Until I got in a car wreck my Junior year.  That's when everything changed.  And here, my friend, is where I'll begin. . .

Chapter 1

     I was driving home from school.  It had been a really, crappy day.  I had failed a test in Chemistry, got sent to the office because I cussed out some little kid who stole a pen from my locker, and slipped on ice in the parking lot, bruising my tailbone.  Not a good day.
     I gripped the wheel tightly, trying to stay on the road.  I could barely see through the snow, but, to be honest, I wasn't really paying attention to the road, at all.  I looked away for just a second, to find a different song on my iPod.  I had barely reached the B's when I heard my tires squeal, and suddenly, I was airborne.  The was a loud crunch and I was thrown into my driver's side window.  I remember a pillow of white coming at me, which I later figured out was the air bag.  But it never hit me.  I blacked out when my head hit the window, and suddenly, I was floating. 
     I couldn't see a thing, but I could tell, I was floating.  Just then, I began to see shapes.  They were only shapes, at first, but they grew steadily in detail.  And as they did, I became more and more confused.  I was outside.  It was night time, but the sky was lit up a strange brown-green.  So was everything around me.  I was standing barefoot on a soft patch of moss.  Around me was dark, almost black, water.  It smelled funny, like it was stagnant. 
     Suddenly, a thought came to me to me.  I'm in a swamp!, I guessed, taking another look around me.  Sure enough, it looked like a swamp.  Same boggy water, with moss everywhere there wasn't water.  But there were no trees, which I found odd.
     Just then, I heard something splash behind me, but when I turned to look, there was nothing.  At least, that's what it seemed like at first.  Abruptly, something hopped in front of me.  I nearly jumped out of my skin until I realized the thing was a frog.  But, I could barely see it because it was pure black.  Like a shadow.  Only it's eyes had color, and they were a bright yellow.  It "ribbited" at me, then leaped into the dark water with a splash.
     Then, without warning, I heard a sudden buzzing in my ear.  I spun quickly, and found myself face to face with a pure black dragonfly.  Its eyes were the same rustic yellow as the frog's.  It hovered for a moment, as if it were staring at me, then zoomed away.
     Confused, I shook my head and turned.  I yelped as I caught site of a snake by my foot.  It, too, was pitch black, with those same dull yellow eyes.  The snake looked up at me for a moment, then slithered away slowly, before disappearing into the water.  I tried to peer through the water, to see which way the snake had gone, but it was like trying to look into a shadow. 
     All at once, I noticed small squares of yellow light, wavering beneath the water.  No, they were on top of the water.  It was a reflection.  Confused, I looked up.
     And stumbled backwards as I gazed up at the most colossal stone castle I had ever seen.  How on earth could I have missed that!  I felt dumbfounded.  It was huge!  The glowing squares on the water were reflections of the castle windows.  They were lit up a harsh yellow, but hey, lights meant people, and people meant information about where the heck I was.
     It was then, that I noticed the ginormous stone wall running along side of me, one way, until the end disappeared into the shadows beyond.  As I studied the castle, and it's wall, I realized that I must have been at the rear corner of the place.  I decided I'd better figure out how to get in, so I could get some help.
     I guess I hadn't really been aware of the fact that, from the moment I got there, there had been complete silence.  With the exception of the frog, the dragonfly, and the snake, I could hear absolutely nothing.  That is, until I caught the faint whistling of wind.  It sounded far off, but it was getting louder by the second, which meant it was getting closer.  I had started walking along the wall, away from the castle, to see if I could find and end. 
     The wind was really loud, now.  It almost sounded like. . . like a car engine.  I turned around just in time to see a huge, black cloud hurtling towards me.  I turned back to run, but before I could even take a step, I was swept of my feet by the force of the wind.  I shut my eyes, and waited for the impact, but it never came.  My stomach did a somersault, and I knew then, that I was in the air.  I didn't dare open my eyes, for the longest time.
     I waited and waited for the floating feeling to stop.  But it didn't.  The only change was that the wind had turned cold.  So, I took a chance and opened my eyes.  However, I was not where I thought I'd be. 
At first, all I saw was white.  Before long, though, everything came into focus.  I was on my back, my face turned towards my car, which was about ten yards away from me, lying on its back.  I didn't want to try and move my head, because it ached badly, so I just moved my eyes to try and take in my surroundings.  There were trees around me.  Lots of trees.  But where my car was, there were no trees.
     Okay, I reasoned, my car must still be on the road.  That means, someone should find me, soon. . . I hope.
     I wanted to sit up, but I couldn't feel my arms or legs.  I closed my eyes again, trying to relax.  Suddenly, I heard the crunching of footsteps behind me.  But they sounded funny.  Almost like someone dragging their feet.  I opened my eyes again and slowly turned my head the other direction.  I was momentarily amazed that I could still move it.  Then I saw what was coming toward me.
     I think I screamed.  Maybe I only screamed in my head, who knows.  I could barely register what was moving in my direction.
     It was tall, and pure black, like a shadow.  The only features the shadow had were glowing red eyes, and long white fangs that glittered wetly.
     I could tell that it wasn't looking at me.  How?  Because when it did see me, it opened it's mouth and brayed the most blatant and inhuman cry I had ever heard.  But it wasn't just a sound.  It was a word.
     DIE!
     I screamed, then.  I screamed like my life depended on it.  I squeezed my eyes shut and shrieked, and yelled until my throat hurt.  Suddenly, something grabbed a hold of my shoulders, and my wailing intensified.  But then, I heard a voice, a human voice, calling out to me.
     I flung open my eyes.  At first, all I could see was a shadow, looming over me.  Terrified, I cried out again, and struggled to get away from it.
     "Thema, stop!  It's me!"
     The shadow disappeared, and Connor's face flew into focus.  I noticed, absentmindedly, that he had dark circles under his eyes, and his black hair looked like it had been slept on recently.  He looked disquieted, as his dark grey eyes peered down at me.

~*~*~*~

© B. J. Robertson

Erebus: Introduction

     If I were you, I would stop reading.  Now.  Nothing good is going to come out of this, I can assure you.  Everything will change if you don't put this notebook down, right now. . .
     I take it you're still reading.  If you are, well. . . Don't say I didn't warn you.
     Now - since I can't seem to get you to put this stupid notebook down - here's a few things you should know before you continue:

1. Nothing is sugar-coated.  There is violence in these pages, and a lot of it.  No one's going to be there to cover your eyes and tell you everything's okay.  
2. Nothing is understated.  In other words, the way I describe it, is the way it happened.
3. Nothing is as it seems. . .

     So, with that ominous statement. . . let's get started.  (If you're still reading, you must be one of two things:  Tremendously courageous. . . or just very, very stupid.  No offense, but I'm thinking the latter of the two.)
     My name's Thema.  I am just your average, ordinary. . . Okay, I'm not even going to finish that sentence, because it would be a total lie, now.  I used to be your average, ordinary, teenage girl.  You know, the kind that fights with her parents, sneaks out her bedroom window to hang with friends, has an amazing boyfriend.  To be totally honest, my boyfriend is mostly what this story, if you wanna call it that, is centered around.
     Now, hold on.  Before you start thinking this is going to be some mushy, gushy love story, please refer to back to heads-up No. 1.  There's violence, and gore.  Sure, there is some romantic stuff, but. . . Ugh, just keep reading, you'll figure out what the crap I'm talking about, soon enough.
     Here is a bit of a background story on me, my family, my boyfriend, etc.  I'm sorry, but you won't understand anything, unless I give a bit of background info.
     As of now, I'm 18.  I live in a small town called Hashgrove.  It consists of about 2,000 people, so it's not super small. . . unfortunately.  (Oh, heads-up:  I'm afraid I can't disclose the exact location of any of the places you will read about in here.  Safety precautions, sorry.)
     My family is pretty ordinary.  I have a mom, a dad, and of course, the classic, pesky little brother.  His name is Westley, but I just call him Wes.  (Remember who he is, because you'll need to know him, later.)
     A thing or two about Wes, before I move on:  Wes is 6 years younger than me.  I don't know why there is such a gap between us, so don't ask.  Also, Wes is probably ten times smarter than me.  (I don't know how that happened, either.)  He's the reason I'm still alive, as much as it pains me to say it.  Okay, moving on.
     The high school I go to is the only high school in town.  There's only one grade school, too.  Big buildings, though, which makes up for there being only one of each.
     This brings me to Connor Ewoldt. 
© B. J. Robertson

Subject 714: Day 2

Day 2:

     I'm awake again.  My eyes are still closed, but I'm awake.  Slowly, not sure if I should drift back into the darkness again, or come into the light, I open my eyes.  Nothing has changed.  The water is still it's clouded green color.  I sigh.  My air has been turned back on.  I guess that's one thing I'm grateful to Them for.  I look down at my hands.  I'm surprised to see that the knuckles are bruised.  They are sore, too.  I figured They would've fixed me up, but maybe this is Their punishment for me.  In truth, I don't mind the pain.  It's a change, and as you may have figured out, any change is welcome.
     I tilt my head backwards, and look up.  Faintly, I can see the top of the Tank.  There's a circular device, that I'm guessing you turn a certain way to unlock the top.  I fight the urge to try it, because I know they will just turn off my air again, before I can get it open.  But the sudden race of my heart cannot be squelched.  My mind starts to race, to all the possibilities.  If I could get out... But then, I stop myself.  You're too weak, I think to myself.  Even if you could get out, how would you defend yourself?
But, still, my adrenaline rises.  If I could get out...
     Suddenly, I hear a faint buzzing noise.  It seems to be all around me.  Then, to my astonishment, a voice sounds in my ears.
     Hello, Subject 714.  How are you feeling?
     I hope It doesn't really expect me to answer.  Instead, I growl.
     Now, now, 714.  No need to be aggressive, It says, humor coloring It's voice.
     I snort.  It has no idea how aggressive I can get.
     Just then, without warning, the cloudiness in the water disappears.  Suddenly, I can see everything outside of my Tank.  This freezes me in shock.  Outside, I can see Them.  They're wearing white coats, and some of Them are scribbling on clipboards.  There is one of Them close by.  He is young, too young to be doing this sort of stuff.  Trying to get a closer look, I press myself closer to the glass, looking down on Him.  He stares up at me, something strange in his expression.  I feel as though I know Him.
     Without thinking, I press my hand to the glass, trying to get as near to Him as possible.  Slowly, He reaches up a hand, and presses it against the glass.  If it weren't for the barrier, we would be touching.
     And just like that, the water becomes clouded, again.  I lose sight of Him.  This makes me panic.  I slap the glass with the palms of my hands, growling.
     That's enough, 714.  We don't want to stress you out, the Voice says calmly.  I know it's not Him.  This voice is too old to be Him.  This voice makes me angry.
     I slap the glass once more, for good measure, then push back a little, so that I'm back in the center of my Tank.  My insides are aching.  Not physically, but emotionally.  I'm missing something.  The look on that young man's face... I shake my head, trying to get rid of the image.  I wish I could curl into a ball, but these stupid wires attached to me won't let me.  I close my eyes, trying to relax.  But I'm not really closing my eyes.  In truth, I can still see what is going on around me.  I have a hunch.
     After a few minutes, my body is totally relaxed.  I wait.  Finally, as I thought it might, the cloudiness disappears.  I can see outside, through the glass.  The young One is still standing where He was.  But, now, He has both of his hands up against the glass.  And his eyes are wet.
     Tears, my mind says automatically.
     He's crying, I think to myself, But why?
     An older one of Them walks up and stands beside Him.  Now, the young One seems angry.  He says something inaudible to the old One, but I can read his lips.
     What have you done?!, the young One seems to yell.
     The old One only shrugs and says, This is science.  He says something after that, something I'm almost sure is a name, but I can't make it out.
     The young One turns back to me.  His eyes are sad.  He clenches his hands into fists against the glass, and He pounds on it, but just once.
     I don't want to watch, anymore.  I can feel stress overwhelming me.  I close my eyes for real, this time, shutting out what's beyond the barrier.  I let myself begin to drift.  I think I'm getting some help from Them, because, suddenly, the air I'm inhaling tastes sweet.  My mind is turning to mud.  Finally, the Nothing comes.

© B. J. Robertson

Subject 714: Day 1

Day 1:

     It has been a long time since I have seen the sky.  Actually, it has been a long time since I have seen anything.  It's kind of hard to see when you're enclosed in a glass tube, filled to the brim with a murky, anti-septic green liquid, with bubbles frothing around you every time you breath.  Not to mention, you can't see much when you've been asleep for the past 24 months.  But that's beside the point; I'm awake, now, and I still can't see a dang thing.
     I've gotten used to idea of not being able to wear clothes inside "The Tank".  I mean, it's hard to study something when it's all covered up, isn't it.  At least, I'm guessing that's what They are doing, outside The Tank.  Studying.  Why else would I have five gazillion wires attached all over my body, like blood-sucking leeches on human skin.  But, I could be wrong.  I can't hear anything, so I don't know for sure.
     My body keeps twitching.  My muscles have been dormant for so long, their not used to moving.  I'm weak.  My stomach is grumbling for the first time in a long time.  I don't know how I have survived for so long.
     I feel a sudden longing for something.  Something I can't fully remember.  It's tickling the edges of my memory, so I know it's there; I just can't reach it.  My mind is muddled.  Nothing feels real, it all feels like a dream.  I wish it were a dream.
     I glance down.  Through the murk, I can see my hand.  I try and move it.  It only twitches, at first.  Gradually, though, I curl it into a fist.  It's not a very tight fist, since my grip is weak, but it's a fist.  Solid, unlike everything around me.  I begin to experiment, moving parts of my body around, trying to get the feeling back.  My reaction is slow.  My body aches from lying unused for so long.  Reaching out a hand, I search for the barrier between me and Them.  When my fingers brush against something hard and invisible, I feel a jolt of cold rush through me.  Normally, I would have disliked the sensation, but I haven't felt it in so long that, this time, I welcome the change in temperature.  I feel the goose bumps rise across my skin.  This sensation, too, I welcome.
     I reach out, and touch the glass again.  The feeling is not so cold this time.  I reach out my other hand, and then I see my hands, pressed, side-by-side, against the invisible barrier.  I look down at my feet.  It's a bit hard to see them.  I wiggles my toes a bit, and my feet jump into focus.  My lips curve upward, in a gesture I hardly remember.  I'm smiling.  I don't remember it, but it's a reflex.  My body remembers it.
     Suddenly, I feel very tired.  All the moving has exhausted me.  This makes me angry; another sensation I don't really recall.  I'm angry because I'm so weak, because my body is so weak.  Frustrated, I begin to thrash around just a bit in my Tank.  Faintly, I can here a frantic beeping on the other side of the glass.  My ears prick up towards the sound.  Finally, I can hear something other than my own breathing.  Again, I feel a frantic pang of nostalgia, but for what, I can't recall.  I thrash more, because, suddenly, I'm mad again.  I want out.  I swing a fist at the glass.  When it connects, pain rushes up my arm, and I hear myself inhale sharply.  This makes me even more frustrated.  I take another swing at the glass, and suddenly, I'm beating upon it with all the strength I have.  I'm kicking, punching, and doing everything I can to break the barrier.  I can't quite remember, but I even think I head-butted it.
     Suddenly, I can't breath.  The mask over my mouth and nose has stopped pumping me oxygen.  I'm not inhaling water, but I'm not inhaling anything else, either.  It's a empty vacuum.  I try to suck in any air that might be left, but I get nothing.  Black spots begin to swim in my vision.  I'm blacking out.  I have no air, I'm going to die.  My whole body goes limp, and my eyes begin to roll back in my head.  Then everything goes black.

© B. J. Robertson