Some May Rise

Monster in a well

Seeing the beast, I shot up. 

Well, attempted to. 

But my vision spun and the floor at the centre of the room was like one of those outside jumping pillows. With my still-numb limbs it felt impossible to get a footing.

I held my arms out, struggling to balance on my knees to thrust a leg out to stand.

I felt a hand supporting me. The thing's hand.

I jerked my arm back into my chest, shrieking as I did. It released but then I overbalanced and begun to crumble backwards. 

Reflexively, I reached back out to that nearby support, quickly finding it.

But as I pulled my weight up and began to stand, I questioned why on earth would I think that thing would want to help me.

It did not look safe. It probably ate people like me for breakfast. My temples felt squeezed in, my vision spun. I was so lightheaded.

Focusing on my breathing, I kept my eyes trained on the floor. After a minute my wobbling reduced, until I finally found my balance. The beast waited patiently next to me.

Now or never. I swallowed and then rolling my shoulders back, my gaze slowly traced up to the thing I was holding onto. Firstly, I saw fingers, softly wrapped around my forearm.

There were five digits. No claws. In fact, the texture was smooth and cold, like marble. And a reddish ochre.

Wait! My hand was the same tan pigment as usual. My eyes flicked up to the aurora borealis above, then back down to my hand again. 

The illumination was not projecting a reddish light. 

His skin was the colour of oxidised rust. The vibrancy made me question whether he had been painted head to toe in ferric oxide; I silently turned his arm finding a lighter tone there. 

This red was his skin, a pigment I had never seen in skin before. It was beautiful.

Curiosity piqued, my gaze traced up his red wrists that were wrapped in heavy but ornately decorated black metal cuffs. They were fastened by a leather tie at his palm. Beyond, the arms were sinewed and muscular. 

Though his hold was gentle, I could feel his muscles were tense under slightly goose bumped skin. My eyes swept over his broad chest which was rising and falling visibly. 

I then braced myself to take in that face again.

It had been the eyes that were truly horrific so I scanned his other features first.

His skin and braids seemed highlighted with shimmering gold flecks, as if anointed by a holy rite. It was dusting the several ridges in his forehead and that eyebrow bone which was more defined than in a human, his cheek bones too were more pronounced. 

And yet, somehow with his square chin and larger eyes, aesthetically, the structure seemed to work in an alien chiseled sort of way.

In front of a few stray trestles, I noticed then he had no outer ears, in fact, no ears at all. A broad flat nose and plush, sepia hued lips finished my inventory, bar one aspect.

My scientific examination had taken over. I finished my analysis with the last feature. Then instantly regretted the action.

Two large amber and green eyes glowed- literally glowed- down at me. He had no white to his sclera, full almonds of vibrant emerald.

The colour reminded me of dew soaked moss on the peak district which shone luminescent on a sunny morning.

I could almost smell the sweet loamy aroma of the moorland as if I was walking right beside my Dad on a Sunday afternoon. We used to go every weekend, to 'get some air', which was code for getting away from the palpable tension with mum.