Dark Soul Silenced - Part One
Read Dark Soul Silenced - Part One Online
Authors: Simon Goodson
Dark Soul Silenced
Part One
Simon
Goodson
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Text copyright ©2013 Simon Goodson
Cover image copyright © 2013 Simon Goodson
All Rights Reserved.
Published 27
th
March 2013
This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Contents
Part One - Awakening
Chapter One
He sat quietly on the lonely beach, waiting for the dawn. Waiting to die.
The sky was already starting to lighten. He knew his vigil wouldn't be a long one. As he waited he tried to pull his mind together, wanting to die as whole as possible.
His name, that was gone. Gone beyond recall. So were all his memories older than a week or so. He knew he'd once had a name, knew he'd had memories. He could feel the gaps where they'd been. The first thing he could remember, vaguely, was riding through a forest. He thought it was a week ago but it could easily be more, or less. He remembered riding, seeing a blur of movement to the side, then being slammed out of the saddle.
Maybe he was knocked unconscious, maybe his memories following that moment were gone. The next thing he remembered was being trussed up on the floor, with a group of rough looking men standing around him…
One of the men stepped forward, their leader.
“Well boys,” he said “Looks like we've got a tough'n here. Riding the forest alone. I reckon we should soften him up a bit.”
The leader took another step closer, then kicked his victim in the stomach. The rest of the band joined in with shouts and curses.
Again… a gap in his memory, though for that he was thankful.
When he came to he was still laid on the floor. Every part of his body was screaming in pain. His left eye was nearly swollen shut. He was still tied up, though he doubted he could have moved let alone run off after the beating. The leader smiled down at him.
“So you're back with us again are ye? I told the boys you were tough. Well, we've had our fun. We've taken your horse, your sword, your money and your food. But we'll leave you your life.”
The leader turned away and for a moment a flicker of hope flared. Maybe he would survive this after all. Suddenly the world lurched. He screamed in agony as he was lifted into the air by his bonds. The leader turned back with a nasty grin.
“Yep, we'll leave your life. Leave it hanging for the wolves. They get hungry you know.”
The others laughed and jeered. The leader leant in closer.
“I'm not a cruel man though. If you're still alive in a few days we'll let you down a bit lower. So the wolves can reach you.” Again the others roared with laughter. Then they were up and moving, leaving the clearing. Many aimed a last punch to compound their victim’s pain.
The next set of memories were seared into his brain. The pain from the beating compounded by the pain of being tightly trussed up and hung head down, feet up. It was soon clear that struggling wouldn't loosen his bindings, it just brought more pain. Nevertheless from time to time he did struggle, the agony of his position forcing him to try something, anything.
How long did he hang there? Days? Weeks? Months? It seemed far longer as he wept, screamed and raged against his fate. Yet it was only one day, fading into evening and then night.
The moon was already up as night fell so he was spared the horror of hanging in the dark. When the wolves finally padded into the clearing, silent as ghosts and with an unearthly glow in the moonlight, it was almost a relief. Almost.
The wolves circled, sniffing him, studying him. His head was six or seven feet from the ground – easily within their reach he was sure. Before the first wolf could decide to leap a shadow fell over the clearing. The moon still shone but the clearing suddenly felt much darker. The effect on the wolves was startling. They immediately crouched down submissively, whining. Then they started to slink away, all casting nervous glances back as they left the glade.
Then his memories completely fragmented. He remembered that… something… came out of the darkness. The pain in his body faded, replaced by a relaxed sleepiness that made trying to think much too difficult to bother with. He was cut down, that he remembered, lowered like a small child to the floor. But he couldn't picture who did it at all.
Then… warmth, safety, darkness. He'd felt safe from all harm. After that drinking, drinking something that burned as it went down his throat. Spirits of some kind. Finally darkness, true sleep.
Chapter Two
He woke near midday, stretching gingerly he found only stiffness in his body — not the agony he expected. As far as he could tell he was in the same clearing, though the rope he'd been tied with was gone. He stood, then stretched again, noticing a few bruises that were already almost faded. Had he been asleep for days? Or had something sped his healing? He didn't know and his memories of the night before, if it wasn't longer, were slippery. Impossible to hold on to. Attempting to think wasn't helped by the blazing sun stabbing down which was giving him a thumping headache. Shading his eyes he stumbled from the glade searching around for somewhere to rest. Even in the shade of the trees the light was too harsh. He came to a fallen tree trunk with a small hollowed space underneath. Crawling in he curled up with his back to the light and closed his eyes. Within seconds he was asleep.
He woke to darkness and a feeling of being smothered. Panicked he sat up quickly, smacking his head on the trunk and falling back. Slightly dazed he felt for what he'd hit. The tree's rough bark reminded him where he lay. He turned over carefully and crawled out. The moon was out but only a little light made it through the spreading branches of the trees. He stood for a while, head still throbbing where he'd banged it, thoughts coming slowly.
He knew he should be scared… or worried… or even angry — but he wasn't. He felt strange, distant. The world around him felt… not dreamlike exactly… but separate. He felt out of step with everything around him, even with his own body.
After standing for a time, he had no idea how long, something stirred inside. An appetite, a thirst. Both, yet not quite either. He started walking with no direction in mind, just a need to keep moving.
He walked and walked. Walking through a forest became repetitive enough normally, doing so on a dim night even more so. Wolves, bears, bogs and holes… all could be deadly when walking at night, but he didn't care. Somehow he felt sure nothing would harm him.
He walked until the pre-dawn light started to hurt his eyes. From the lightening of the sky he knew he was walking eastwards, towards the sunrise, though he had no idea if he had been going round in circles the rest of the night. Once again he sought shelter from the bright daylight, this time in a small hollow filled with leaves, surrounded and covered by bushes. Burrowing down into the leaves he was asleep within a minute.
He woke to night again. He walked all night in the same trance like state as the night before, then sought shelter from the rising sun. The next two nights were the same, nothing changing except that the not quite hunger or thirst grew steadily stronger.
He drank a little from streams but the water just made him feel queasy. The thought of food almost made him retch. The ache in his head remained and his thoughts stayed sluggish. Once or twice he wondered if the beating he’d taken had cracked his skull. But he didn’t worry for long. He couldn’t. The thoughts soon slipped away.
One thing he did notice was that the moonlight was brighter each night, or the covering of leaves less, as with each new night he was able to see more clearly.
Things changed the next day. Sometime mid-morning he woke screaming, agony running through his left hand. He snatched it close seeing smoke rising from it as he squinted against the bright daylight. The pain faded quickly as he tried to work out what had burnt him. He crouched by the base of a huge fallen tree, in the depression left when its roots were torn out of the ground. There was no fire, no smell of smoke, only the burnt flesh smell of his injured hand.
Tentatively he stretched out his other hand, snatching it back with a curse as it exploded in pain. The sun. It wasn't just affecting his eyes, it hurt his body too. For a moment fear gripped his soul. What was happening to him? But then the warm sluggishness spread through his mind again driving away all worry.
A little experimenting with his legs confirmed the sun wasn't suddenly much hotter, his boots and trousers were fine, as were his legs as long as they remained covered. His skin though… it started to burn the moment the sun touched it. Squinting against the light he shifted around the tree’s roots, trying to find a safe position to lay where the sun wouldn't find his skin. Within moments he dropped back into a deep sleep.
Twice more that day he woke in agony, woke to find flesh burning and smoking. Each time he managed to squeeze into a new position. Leaving the shelter of the roots was out of the question. He only had boots, trousers and vest left and the nearest shade was twenty feet away at least. He was sure he wouldn't make it without being crippled by the sun, most probably stuck partway to shelter as the sun beat down and turned his body to charcoal.
Despite the severity of the burns the pain quickly faded each time, and as soon as he found a new position safely out of the sunlight he fell straight back to sleep.
The next time he woke it was to moonlight. He breathed a deep sigh of relief then quickly checked the burns… only to find they were gone. Had he imagined the agony, the burning? Had he dreamt it? No… the last burn, on the back of his right forearm, was still faintly visible when he checked carefully — but it was fading before his eyes. For a moment he felt dizzy, the world seemed to lurch below his feet. Just what was happening to him? As fast as the worry came it was pushed aside again by the warm, fuzzy feeling in his head. His fears withered and died and the hunger returned, stronger than ever. Once again he started to walk.
As the night faded to dawn he searched carefully, seeking better shelter from the sun than he had found the night before. He discovered a small cave in a north facing outcrop of rock and headed inside before once again crashing into a deep sleep. He hardly even noticed the large bear whose sleep he interrupted, and which shrank away from him — pressed back against the wall as it slunk past until it could race from the cave.
The next night brought more changes. His night sight had been steadily improving. Now, despite the moon being hidden by thick clouds, the forest shone as if in full daylight. He realised it hadn't been the moon brightening night on night, or the tree cover thinning. His night vision was getting better and better.
Another, even more disturbing, change came over him during that night. He started to see the creatures around him. Not just as he saw the trees and rocks, bushes and ground. The creatures glowed, from dull red to bright yellow, standing out clearly against the background of the forest.
And the hunger had changed. It was stronger but also far more focused. It drove him towards the creatures he saw, drove him to grab, tear and consume them. It would be so easy. As he focused his attention on an adult rabbit it seemed to freeze, letting him approach… reach out a hand… grab it… lift it to his mouth…
“NO!” The hoarse shout startled him, broke the spell. The rabbit bit and clawed at his hands till it broke free. It took a few moments more for him to realise the voice had been his own, the shout had come from him. And it was right. The hunger was still burning strongly but something inside him resisted. The struggle continued inside and he did the only thing he could. He walked. With the spell broken the creatures of the forest fled at his approach.
Several times that night he was nearly overwhelmed by the hunger, entering a dreamlike state. Each time he managed to fight back before it was too late. The final time a squirrel was held so close he could feel its fur on his tongue. As the spell faded it bit and clawed it’s way free, badly scratching his face and arms. Yet within minutes the wounds were healing and soon they had faded completely.
Dawn's light in the sky came as a great relief. He found a hole, a crack between rocks, and squeezed himself in. Once again dropping into the dreamless sleep.