Welcome to the Abyss

Chapter 1 - Invisible

The wind blew down onto the little alley, flowing through skirts, shirts, and hair. Amelia looked up to the clear sea of blue speckled with strokes of white above her. Sighing, she stopped in her tracks to enjoy the fresh breath of wind upon her cheeks. Her school skirt glitter underneath the radiant sun; her well-combed locks were like a flow of rich butter. The trees seemed to dance in her presence and the leaves around her performed a pirouette. She continued to trug along the littered and cracked concrete path, on her way to school. She boldly continued to walk forth, elegant and composed. A homeless man woke up from his sleep and tilted his head upwards. He saw an illuminating figure walk towards him. It was then that he felt the urge. A monster crept from deep within his soul, causing a high that he could not control. Savage thoughts ran through the small mind of his, as he reached behind him. Amelia did not sense anything wrong. After all, it is a common occurrence to see homeless men, women, and children sitting in clumps around abandoned lots, houses, and churches. He clamped a rusty, chipped knife out of his back pocket. The veins in his hands concentrated the last bit of his energy, and he lunged towards her. The moment Amelia walked past, he was on her. Crying in the voice of a savage animal, he plunged his knife deep into Amelia's stomach.

"You filthy swine of a bitch, it's because of people like you....because of....you will pay....all of u will...."

His eyes had started to cloud over and his speech became more slurred. Saliva sprayed down onto Amelia's face as the vagrant man struggled to string words together.

"My wife....Children.....How could you?....You are all monsters....."

Those were his last words. He spoke no more after that. His conscience left his body before he could finish. His hand slid from the handle of the knife and he was still, never to move again. Amelia laid there. Shocked. Unable to comprehend what had happened. She suddenly felt a searing pain from her abdomen and looked down. That rusty, chipped knife, standing at a 90 degree, was stuck in her stomach. Blood squirting like a geyser around the wound, and suddenly Amelia felt sick. A wave of nausea passed through her. Then the darkness slowly covered her eyes. A thin film of impenetrable murk, coaxing her slowly into a deep, dark, diabolic abyss. And she submitted.

A sound was the first thing she heard. Then it was quiet. A flicker of light above her head slowly returned her to her senses. Where was she? Her memory suddenly broke free like the bursting of a dam. She opened her eyes and stared at the light. It was cold, emotionless, dim. All of this seemed so familiar. She continued to look around. A table of makeup. A wardrobe stuffed to the brim with clothes. The light above her, a chandelier hanging from the ceiling. It was her room. The air in the room was cold, and she shivered. Sitting up she began to dress. Socks, undergarment, dress. The door opened soundlessly, and the floor made no sound as she walked through. The mansion was quiet. Too quiet. Something was odd about this. She was dead, wasn't she? She was stabbed, wasn't she? Why was she in her room? She cleared her throat and said quietly at first.

"Hello?"

Then gradually louder. Then gradually louder. Until her face was strained with stress.

"Hello? Mamma? Papa?"

She continued to scream at the top of her lungs, but no answer ever came back. Carefully she slipped down the stairs to her father's study. She could taste the alluring tobacco smoke, and smell the strong thick aged liquor. The room was lit and there sat a figure of a man. A strong, large, finely dressed man. With an air of awe surrounding him.

"Papa!!"

Amelia ran towards her father and dove toward him. The father felt a cold wind pass his face and looked towards Amelia's direction. Nothing. She was nothing. She passed through her father like an illusion. The father looked back at the thick stack of paper on his desk, as a heavy tear rolled down his cheek.

"Amelia. Those savages dare lay a hand on my daughter, heir to my position. I will make them suffer. I'll make them suffer a hundredfold of my grief."

Though his words were soft and comforting, his eyes told a different story. Cold eyes that seemed to still time. Eyes blind to everything and look at all indifferently. Eyes that are already dead.

Amelia has never seen her father like this before. He was her father, but also not. His presence was not inviting, warm, or friendly. His hostile posture seemed to crush the air out of all around him. Amelia's father never paid attention to her. He was always busy, left early in the morning for work, and worked deep into the night. He was the King. He would not tolerate failure and would not see anyone unless it's urgent. His family was secondary. She was unwanted. The king desperately wanted a son. Someone that will be able to inherit his throne when he becomes too old to rule. But Amelia was not that. She was the only child of the king and queen, and when she grows up she will be wedded to a prince of a foreign kingdom and lose her name.

Amelia stood there in shock, as she recollected her memory. She reached out towards his father, and his father's eyes turned towards her. His eyes looked past her, into nothingness.

She ran. Maybe it was fear or was it that she had always known. That was not her home. She was not welcomed there. She was nothing.

She passed through crowds of people in the marketplace, like the wind. Knowing that it's there, but unable to see.

"Hey you"

A voice? Calling to her? Amelia turned around and looked towards the source of the voice. A young boy sat on the roof of a house, toying with a knife. His face tanned, scarred. His arms ripped with layers of interlocking muscles. His legs lean, but muscular.

He looked amusingly at Amelia. His smile hides many mysteries.

"Who am I?", Amelia asked, "how are you able to see me?"

"I am the same as you"

"Same as me? No one is the same as me. I am the Princess of Thane, while you are no more than a common ruffian found on the streets."

"That's rich coming from someone dead", the boy replied, clearly amused.

"Dead?"

"Yes, dead"

Everything finally clipped into place for her. She was stabbed. She was like the wind. She was dead.

"What happens next?"

"Depends on how you define next"

"How do I go back to the world of the living"

Suddenly eerie darkness replaced the amused face of the boy, as he jumped down the building. He slowly walked towards Amelia. Each of his steps seemed to shatter time. Each of his movements seemed to cut through space. Seeing the fear written on Amelia's face, he sheathed his knife. Amelia instinctively started to step back, fear spreading across her bosom.

"You are dead. There is no way to go back. That is the first step to 'what happens next'."

He held his hand out. And his amused face returned.

"My name is Kane."

Indecisive about what to do, Amelia continued to step away.

Sighing, Kane rolled up his sleeve and continued to hold his hand out.

Seeing that there were no hidden weapons, Amelia slowly started to walk towards him. Her dainty hand in his rough, calloused, worn ones. Kane's hands were hard, but it was warm. How long was the last time someone tried to talk to her? How long was the last time that she introduced herself?

In her soft, alluring voice, she said.

"My name is Amelia."

And she stared into those eyes of mystery, and threw away her title, her past, and looked forward.