Sybil (Completed)

Hollow Ground

There it is again, that sudden force, barely present but enough to grab my attention as it feels like a never-ending itch. Right between my eyes, focused with a perfection of placement as my finger pushes at the skin, wanting the feeling to go away. Perhaps this itch is not too important to focus all of my attention on as I hear Fiona talking in the background, her voice increasing in proximity as I know the male is with her. Only minutes ago did I ask what had happened to me, only for Zion to find my question something of horror as he fled the room, unable to look at me anymore. Fiona having chased after him, they left me alone, within this small room as I sit on a wooden chair, facing a fireplace with ash in the center. They have yet to answer my question, Fiona saying she would speak with Zion before she came back.

As they enter the room, I spare them no glance even as I feel a tug at what perhaps is my heart, tempting me to gaze once more into the eyes of the male. The first time I saw him in this room, he reminded me of perhaps someone I once knew, how his held himself like he was untouchable, someone demanding respect, and one who could stand up to any beast. Zion reminded me of these things, but the second he saw him, all of that went away, replaced with the true colors of a man perhaps almost dead on the inside, holding onto a little thread of hope. How he looked at me, with such passion in those eyes, it almost frightened me at first, for how much joy I could spark into someone so dead. Fiona had used his name earlier, my only response being that I remembered him. Zion. His name belongs to a memory that is blurry, my consciousness only to barely brush the surface of those memories before I am pulled back before I can go any deeper.

"Sybil?" He speaks my name clear, as if he has perfected the pronunciation of every letter making up the name. Looking back to the male, his golden eyes captivating me, he looks to me like a man trying to keep up with looking his best, shielding the outside world from the darkness surrounding him. "What do you remember?"

"About what?" I ask, turning to face the male as his eyes seem to darken. "Who you are to me?"

"About the last time you can remember anything," Fiona responds, laying a comforting hand upon the man's shoulder as she passes him, edging closer to me.

I try and find the memory, a haze covering the images as I can only remember my name being screamed over and over again as a sound was shot through the air. Perhaps a gunshot, the noise resembling one as I find my forehead becoming itchy again. Something tells me that I should be worried about missing all of these memories, unable to find them and experience them.

"I know someone was screaming my name and a loud noise went off," I inform, watching Zion from the corner of my eyes as I see his skin pale with my response, as if he is reliving the memory I cannot seem to fully remember. "Did you have something to do with it? You seem to react like my memory haunts you."

Zion looks to me, knowing my question was directed towards him. Clearing his throat, he takes a step forward, nervous as he runs a hand quickly through his hair. "I was there." Short response but enough to inform me something horrible happened that day.

I get hints of tragedy. Gunshot noise, Zion being present, memories of someone screaming my name, this all means something unpleasant happened to me. "Was I shot?" The silence is enough for me to know the answer. "Where?"

The itch occurs again.

"That day was the worst day of my life," Zion answers, voice cracking, face losing all the warm tones it once held, and screams echoing in my head. "I lost you that day, Sybil," he continues, almost reaching out to me as he says those words, only to take in a deep breath.

"You say that you lost me, yet here I am, standing before you," I interrupt the silence forming around us. "Fiona talked about tricking death, about taking something that belonged to death." My vision becomes blurry as I try and form the next question to leave my mouth. As I find my back against the wall and my body slides down to the floor, Zion is instantly right beside me. The itch nags at me, my fingers tracing the location as I stare ahead at Fiona, watching her nod for the answer to the question I have yet to ask. "Did I die?"