From Death Unto Life

Ch. 8 Helio

My bare feet slid across the dew-speckled field and then the splintering wood floor of the kitchen.

Athos Grey. Who is he? I can't be imagining things. He seemed too real. Too familiar.

"My life's just a big mess," I mutter as I fall on the couch, wrapping my ragged coat around me. "Just a big pile of cow poo, that's what my life is." I close my eyes, my body begging for rest, my mind yearning for answers. So I lay there, too tired to move, too tired to think.

But Athos. My mind calls out. Athos. Athos.

I heard a slight sound coming from outside, and it sounded like weeping.

Everything felt so normal, so familiar, like I've been here before.

So what if I have been. What if I have been here before? My body felt comfortable, and nothing felt foreign.

The fire crackled and popped, going out. I felt so cold. Yet it wasn't the same sensation as before. Before, I had felt almost comforted, but now I just felt alone.

The same weeping noise came from outside.

Do I feel sorry for him? Do I feel sorry for myself? Those cries and moans were so anguished.

Stop feeling sorry for something that doesn't exist, I told myself. I rolled over and fell into a restless, dream-filled sleep.

I was on a train.

The sky was blue, steam filled the air.

And there was someone else, too. A faceless being, holding my hand. I couldn't tell their features, all I knew was that they were human. This person held my hand, but I did not look at them. I stared straight ahead, past their face, toward my future. Toward the bright mountains and my bright destiny.

"Farewell, Helio! Farewell!" The being yelled and choked, steam and tears gagging them. "Te amo! Te amo! [I love you]" But I still did not turn around. My eyes were glued, in love with my future.

"TE AMO!" they shouted, pain welling up, controlling their voice, their hand slipping out of mine, but I just threw my arms up in a joyful yell, filled with hope. I whooped and laughed.

"To the future!" I toasted, holding an invisible glass in my hand.

I did not look back.

Not once.

The mountains reached me, the train zooming under a bridge.

Gasp. I threw my legs off the couch. I was awake. I sighed and groaned, still exhausted.

Again, dreams collided with me, knocking me out.

It was the same dream. I was on a train, going through a tunnel under a mountain. I was sitting at the same table, the same window. But my vision was getting murky. Dark silhouettes creeped and crawled around near me. They began getting closer, and more defined. One extended a lengthy arm over me, solidifying.

It was a man. His throat cut, and his chest riddled with bullets.

"Save....meeee. HRgrgnThthlgn." he groaned, blood burbling up and out of his mouth.

My eyes widened, and I tried to reach out, but I was paralyzed.

The man's clothing resembled military apparel, and I supposed him to be English.

"Br-brother, comrade..." He moaned. "Water..." His eyes rolled and filled with blood.

"Please..." bloody tears escaped his tight expression.

The fire popped one last time and died.

I was awake again, sitting in a cold sweat. My hand was clamped over my mouth, frozen with an outcry.

The-the blood.

I busied myself with the fire, trying to push those recent images out of my mind. The logs were crumbling, and the ashes were still hot. I tossed a piece of wood on the fire and blew on it. Embers glowed and sparks flew. But the fire did not start again.

I leaned over, my head heavy. Rain began bashing at the windows and shutters. My vision grew dark, and I fell yet again in and out of sleep, flashes of dreams interrupting my view of the dead fire.

An overgrown garden, tripping over vines and laughing.

Embers burned like evil eyes, glaring at me.

Panting, breathing, groaning.

A spark flies out of the chimney towards me, and I sleepily brush it away.

Sprinting, skipping, kissing.

My head felt woozy, maybe it was the heat from the fire that was making me break out in a sweat, maybe I was sick. But I couldn't see. I was too tired to open my eyes. The floor came closer and closer. Then everything went black.

When I opened my eyes again, bright light was shining through a window, crammed between some shelves of books. Dust sparkled, like fairy dust falling over books and chairs and shelves, and the fireplace mantle. The sun was high in the sky and the fire was now completely out.

I rubbed my eyes and stretched. How long was I sleeping? It must be past mid-day. I groaned, standing up. Those dreams last night were very...unique. I've never had a nightmare before.

At least... any that I could remember.

But despite the terrible sleep I got, I felt well-rested.

And now, I was going to go on my way. I was leaving this darned place, going to live off of bread that has been begged for and water from woodland streams.

I stood up, looking towards the sun for reassurance. My feet dragged me to the front door, yet stopping in the foyer. If I leave, I will never see Athos again.

What am I talking about? I don't care about Athos, or who he is, or what he is. I just want to get out of here, and stop imagining things.

Helio. There was a voice, soft and comforting. There was his voice. I couldn't deny it. It was like it was transmitted directly into my mind.

Helio, don't leave me again.

"Stop, I don't know who you are or what you want, but please leave me alone.

"Helio," the voice was clear, "just please don't get on that train again."

Thump.

He can't mean that-

Thump.

That he was on that station...

Thump.

He can't be that person, he can't know my dream.

Thump.

My heart beats periodically, bursting out of my chest.

I circle around. "A-Athos?"