Unearthen ( part 1 )
To what great extent a human being will go through in achieving one's desire is far greater than anything that we know of, one might say even greater than the ocean itself.
Take Odin for example, he had the desire for eternal knowledge, and in return gave his left eye. Take God, for example, he gave his only son for the salvation of humanity. And even the Mother Virgin Mary, she willingly gave birth to the son of God for her desire of faith deemed it so.
And now, I'll leave you with this question of thought---What befitting desire will either condemn you---or consume you? How great a length will you go?
Run along now, I for one had yet to see.
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I found myself half asleep whilst drenched on a morass, my vision continues to play tricks over me casting a periodic headache from time to time, I noticed the gutted bodies of swine hanging from where I once were and soon realized that I was being preserved at a slaughter hut.
The hard rain made it difficult for me to find my sense of direction, besides the harrowing tempest and the thick layers of greyish fog, the muddy ground seems to devour my feet if I stay on it for too long.
I was in a state of conundrum both in demeanor and in thought, trying so desperately to find something---anything at this point, but all ended in folly, I was nautically lost---until a vista of praimfaya had me peered.
My feet sunk deeper into the ground as I take each step further as if the very earth deters me so, I was shivering a lot more than usual, the vapors of vanity intoxicated with a stygian miasma was just enough to make me feel something out of a death-defying nightmare, as to none of this is real and that I am nearing into my end. Everything felt so---surreal, dark, and dead.
I was oblivious of what surrounds me, nor that I wear no more clothes, nor the fact that my entire body from head to toes are covered with inked glyphs and queer vague symbols, nor was I engulfed by an ancient fear and tongue-less horrors, all that gives me purpose is to find my friends, no matter the cost. This purpose is what now differs me from all that is hollow and dull, as of this moment it is what serves as the thin line between dead and alive.
The praimfaya got vivid and larger as I near its trail upon the clearing, a stark horrid bellows, shrieks, and moans abruptly crumbles all that is fathomable as stygian erebus casts its malignant shadows over me. Those dreadful cacophonies were the exact ones that I heard from that unfaithful night at the isolated inn.
Whilst the natives' men and women were naked, and moaning in lament as they lay in a fetal position with their heads set to bow upon the praimfaya as if they were to worship it, I stood near the hearth and saw Ysabel along with Andrea each posted aloft at the wooden poles from the sides of the gigantic tree built in the flames of a fiery phoenix.
A symbol peculiarly similar to those of the night craved in the trees that I saw back at the inn, was carved at their bodies by blood and by ink as pieces of their skin were flayed, at the middle were two others each strapped at the tree itself and was burnt to an extent where recognition is impossible, my heart if not been sunken already and been eaten by something diabolic then 'tis now, as I presume that the ones chained are Carmeline and Gabriel.
The image painted in front of me was indeed overwhelming and greatly far from just being sinister, 'tis more than any could handle. At this very moment---there's a grief that can't be spoken, a pain that goes on and on, to be struck in the bones in an instant of breathless fear and malevolent horrors.
I now understood to whom do those agonizing pleas belonged, I've witnessed and heard the coming storm yet I am oblivious to it still, I haven't taken hold of the portents that besieged me before, and now---pays the price. An ultimatum between death over life.
The moans of lament, fear, and agony along with four new offerings were more than enough for the arousal of the praimfaya which prevented neither the morass nor the storm from ever extinguishing such, evil...such peril---and darkness. The harvest was complete. I was too late.
Did the angels of gleaming white, the hall of all that is good and just, and the relics and beings of all that is holy had abandoned me? did my own sanity had fallen so low from the bowels of the earth, that it had plunged midway from the chalice of an ancient gothic leviathan? The words deceive, false, true, believe, meant similar to that of a grain of sand.
This accursed---place, where wreckages of faith, unholy soil baffled with dark relics, and where cosmic anomalies babels across the entire land causing turmoil and havoc had woven into stark at first to what I could only protrude is a catastrophic bombardment of belief, as this harvest had conceived an old titanous woman. She was tall as the praimfaya, her skin deformed into flesh as did her face in a gruesome gut-churning fashion.
This creature, bare only flesh and had ripples of skin laying around, most were almost peeled off and some intact, her face bore but thin flakes of grievous flesh and blood as a large portion of her skull was shown, parts of its body had what I could only describe as vague body parts of dead people, a sort of mangled limbs, and decayed bones, I couldn't see much clearer for the hurricane and the mist prevents me so.
An abrupt pat at the shoulder made me felt like my time too had come to an end, I was more than surprised to see Grace alive, even though she was badly wounded.
" SHHHH!!!...Its me, calm down, I know a way out follow me. "
We ran as far away from the clearing and headed straight through the forest where dense white fog reign supreme.
" It's my fault...somehow I've seen it before. But I... "
" This's no one's fault, and certainly not yours. " Grace revolted before I could finish my sentence.
" Right now, we need to leave and find help. " She added, whilst grief and lament grew as if it was the praimfaya.
" I was in a slaughter hut before I saw all of this... " I stuttered but continued,
" Where were you? before everything turned to hell. "
" I was tied on a wooden pole south of the clearing, opposite from the praimfaya...I got loose. "
" I guess luck's both on our side. Right? " She added to somehow elevate the mood. It was rather distasteful.
A rattle afoot and twigs with the echoes of puddled mud reverberated across the forest, before I knew it there was a masculine arm wrapped around my hips, grabbing me from behind. It was one of the tribes' men, he was chasing after us.
I didn't know how hard I drove my elbow on his temple, but it was certainly enough to cast dismay upon him; hastening my escape, pass the treelines and through the puddles of mud, my senses are on all fours keen as they'll ever be.
A gnar protruded among the mist or so I thought, then Grace suddenly popped out and grabbed my arm, urging that this is no place to wonder nor walk on.
After running for quite some time, we encountered what she described as an abandoned shack, coincidently it harbors a single canoe, as swift as a cat we got in and paddled off to God knows where.
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The mists were far dense as it ever was, even the stilted sea seemed like the very mist itself, my thoughts drift to an unpleasant demeanor; that we could be treacherously eaten by some sort of giant leviathan or that the walking creature molded in hunks of flesh and corpse would sink us to the depths of the ocean where babel would ring like bells on top of a church tower and where unearthly creatures hail from a kingdom who remains in decades of slumber shall wake at any given moment, ravage a conundrum in me hitherto while I suffer under a potent torpor.
I've never been this tense, bubbled in emotions, it's---gnarly. I've all thought and dealt with this hitherto, as my demeanor remains catatonic. But then Grace intervened, somehow even saved me from myself.
" James, how do you feel? "
" ...Fear. As if I would dissolve at this very second. And fade away no better than that of dust or sand. " I answered in a hoarse manner as my skin slowly turns pale and my teary eyes were swollen deep.
" What are you thinking? " in yet another calm and comforting tone she managed.
" ...Everything. "
" James. I need to know, are Ysabel, Andrea, Carmeline, and Gabriel alive? "
" What?...NO! you've seen it too haven't you!? " My voice grew as my temper nearly meet its limit, then continued.
" What, those---people did to them. Then there's that thing... "
" That thing? can you describe it? "
" It was...as if a wicked nightmare had awoken to life. It was about 9 to 11 feet tall, maybe even taller, had limbs and corpses---as if it was made out of it. It first inhabited a face of a woman, but then her entire body including her face was torn apart whilst its skin peels off and flesh, just---all came down. "
" Can you describe the things face? "
" I only had a glimpse of it before it...uhh, tore off. " I slightly shook my head as I recall everything that just had happened, then continued.
" Why are you asking me these questions, Grace. You were also there right! It only happened minutes ago. You've seen that...hulking behemoth too right? for all I know, they're good as dead. rotten away, and...in pain. " I felt the veins in my head contorting like a discord of what was once a harmonious symphony a day ago and that my blood nearly begins to boil.
She gave a muffled sigh but was too bare bones to conceal, her tone suggested sympathy and coordinated at the same time. " James...can you tell me about the voices in your head? "
" W...what? voices? " I felt that my head got fired off straight down to the bottom of the cold heartless ocean, my chest abruptly crumbles before a vertigo stroke me baffled, like when an old woman suddenly dropped all her oranges on the street making them roll and there's me who was the only one that kept chasing the infinite.
A gnar jolted at the back of my neck causing goosebumps all around, " SHE, CANNOT BE TRUSTED. CHILD, 'TIS ONLY I, WHO CAN TRULY SHOW SALVATION ON YOUR FRIENDS. "
What once showed placidity and lethargy, now was besieged in conundrums of emotions and in thought, I reluctantly shook my head indicating that I have no knowledge of these voices nor do I recall telling her about it.
She closely eyed me then a frown followed. " The tremours in your head. How is it? "
" My head? my head is fine as it is. Grace. " My eyes widened and my hands a fist, shaken by withdrawal.
" Does that answer your question? or are there more?! now stop playing that pitiful bullshit of yours Grace. It's not gonna fucking get us anywhere nor help the both of us. Worry about where on God's name are we gonna find ourselves on! "
" Is this the doing of the voice? what has it been telling you? "
" TELL THIS ONE, NOTHING CHILD! "
my eyes unknowingly have been flickering about for a time that I had not known, consequentially as did my withdrawal and stuttering, as to then and now, still I, remain oblivious of it.
" W---w---what voices?! Why do you keep on about!... "
She noticed my built-up rage and bottled emotions writhing to implode at any given moment, so she decided to cut through as I wasn't even half done finishing what I'm about to say.
" Your psychosis is more severe than I thought. We are not on a boat, we are not on anything as a matter of fact. "
I stood from where I once rested and relentlessly pointed at the vast ocean beside us and the thick layers of what seems to be now shimmering mists.
" TH---THEN WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU CALL THAT HUH! O---OR MAYBE THAT ONE! OR TH---THIS ONE! D---DON'T GIVE ME THAT B---BULLSHIT YOU'RE THE ONE SUFFERING UNDER THAT P---PSYCHOSIS OF YOURS. "
Grace shows no signs of perplexion nor nuisance, but rather recollected and calm, as I the so-called bewildering behemoth. " Try dipping your hand in. " she replied.
I took my wandering glance from the shimmering mists to her as yet another conundrum formulated inside me, I shifted my sight to the wide ocean beside me whilst I sat down once more to get a much vivid look.
My brows meet each other as the skin of my forehead cripples, subtle did the water look, neither clear nor lucid did it seem, similar to the mist it shimmers and faded in a haze as my fingers were to come close.
" W---w---what the hell is this?... "
" We are not in the ocean James. We're in your room. Inside your house. As you've always been for the last 18 months. "
The thick mist slowly dispersed into a white ceiling as the water into a brown floorboard with a blue carpet and the boat that I sat on into a bed fit for one. Eventually, the horrors and terror was a thing in the past. Doubt and hysteria plagued my mind as if malignancy had suddenly sprung about.
The ambrosial odor of newly cleaned rugs, bed sheets, pillowcases, and polished wood peered new arousing vistas as the aromas of roast almond nuts and strong Philippine coffee beans certainly raised my attention.
It's just like any other morning in early December, when mother would make coffee for two and the neighboring house would roast their dozens and dozens of almond nuts for wholesale by mid of December.
" You're unwell James, you're ill as a matter of fact. Your delusions and hallucinations about this " thing ", the native community, and those whispers in your head are the roots of your headaches. "
I am at my most vulnerable for vertigo still took its toll on me, my head similar to a vile hurricane sent to ravage tall buildings and flatten communities, as if I was a newly born child whose dark and peaceful sleep had abruptly comes to an end as a brilliant streak of light nearly blinds me.
Alas, mysteries had finally found themselves to be begged for answers; " What happened to me and my friends? ", " What delusions and hallucinations are there that you bestow upon me? ", "Where are my friends and family? ", " What happened to Grace? ", " What happened to the community? ", " Who are you? "
But all that came of me was a silent whimper and a voice that said; " HEED 'TIS NOT, FOR SHE IS ONE OF THE DROWNED THAT MUST BE AWOKEN! "