Chapter 1 (continued)

November 9, 2011 at 2:01 pm (Fantasy)

It was dark and dreamy. All he could see was just murk. Castor walked on a faceless darkness. His feet were cold and pale, but wounded. Weird that he could not feel his wound but then he remembered that he already died and that was the first time he could breathe easier towards his miserable life that had come to an end. He thought he was in heaven. But heaven, as people said, was the place of brightness and comfort. Very different to what he saw just now. He knew he had died and he was on the way to heaven-maybe. It was possible that the way to heaven was dark and cold, or maybe there was no heaven at all, the dark place was the place for him afterlife.  That was if he believed in after life. Castor was taught in a Christian school when he was very little, so little he held onto the faith though he did not realize it, it was always there with him.

He walked an empty path, dark and cold, but free from thoughts. He saw a bright clearing ahead. He ran and ran. It was surprisingly a long run, though he was sure he was in heaven, he felt weary running. He panted and gradually halted. He felt the pang of uneasiness, the feeling he once had when he was still alive, it came back to him. Castor grew restless. He continued to sprint reaching the light ahead which drew nearer. Maybe by then when he reached the light he would finally be free from everything. But as he kept on running, his heart beat faster, his breath ran short.

He ran and kept running, enjoying his little freedom using his feet. Then finally he reached the light and he smiled though his heart seemed to have its own mind. He stumbled and fell and suddenly he could smell the grasses that bloomed in spring. The bright light was yet so calming but at the same time, poisonous. Castor sensed a struck of poison went down his throat after breathing the smell of spring grass. It suffocated his throat he barely could breathe. The pain of not breathing seemed familiar and it reminded him of something that he hoped it was not true, it reminded him of being alive. He started losing consciousness as the pain on his neck was unbearable.


Castor finally opened his eyes in shock. He breathed deeply and impatiently as if he had not breathed for ages.  There he saw some familiar faces that wearily looked at him. He could not speak for his mouth was as stiff as a locked door. He tried moving his hands but yet every time he tried moving his hands, a great pain attacked. So he remained silent but his eyes wandered. He started realizing he was breathing just like when he was alive. He could feel soft matrass on his back, he could smell a burning pot of fish soup, he could see a fairly lighted room and what top it the most, he could feel burning on his neck, and one to add, he could hear they whispered and he understood what they talked about. The life in heaven, as what he was told when he was a kid, was a very different to where he was. Heaven was a painless world where everyone would dress up in white and greeted each other in felicity.  But then, he saw some faces that he rather not see for the rest of his life and by then he knew that, for the most unfortunate event in his life, he was brought to live.

“Is he alive now?” asked a male voice.

An old man stood before Castor. His eyes watched over him carefully as if he was a piece of a luxurious valuable fragile vase from China. “Yes, be careful, he might still feel pain on his neck.”

Castor’s eyes fluttered as if they would have said something if they had mouth. His eyes were rimmed and tears streamed down on his face. A series of surgery sewing was seen around his neck.

“Quickly, dress the wound!”

A woman came along bringing bandage. She hesitated wrapping the wound. Castor knew who the woman was. He would not forget such beautiful face which resembled someone important in his past life. But then seeing her was like opening an old wound he had buried. He groaned in agony as she gently touched and lifted his head.  She felt it but she continued anyway dressing the wound as her tears of pity streamed down her smooth cheeks.

Edward walked up to Vernus who dodged his glance from a pitiful were that had just been resuscitated from an unfortunate demise.

Vernus stood by the window which overlooked a calm night. A solemn time for the moon to shine at its fullest. Full moon was seen the brightest and its light was melancholy and yet comforting in a way.


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