Fate's Vinculum

Chapter 3.

When he came to, there was a loud rushing sound, almost like water. He squinted, his vision obstructed by pink light, dust, and debris. Blacking out a second time, Hakan then came to in eerie silence.

Groaning, he rolled over onto his back. For a moment he laid, staring up at the clear blue sky. Gingerly he tried to move and was shocked when he wasn't sore. Taking a minute to move slowly and check himself over, Hakan finally sat up.

He pulled off his helmet and stared at it, mildly shocked. It was a crumpled mess. He shuddered, realizing that could have been his skull. Hakan was relieved that he always wore a helmet, thick boots, and a leather jacket, regardless how hot it was. Shaking out his brown hair, he looked around himself.

Everything was destroyed. The street lights were bent in mangled heaps. Cars were crushed, flipped over. The ground wasn't merely broken, it was largely ripped up, chunks of earth missing in giant sinkholes. In the not too far distance, the city of Los Angeles sat in a heap of burning rubble.

Hakan sat on the ground, staring at disbelief, tears streaming down his face. After gawking for an indeterminable amount of time, Hakan slowly got to his feet. He stumbled towards the decimated city, not knowing what else to do. Strangely, he appeared to be alone.

"Hello?" he called, but his voice merely echoed all around him. No one answered.

Hakan slowly began to panic. He checked under cars and in them. Before long he was sprinting from car to car, screaming, looking for anyone else who had survived.

His heart pounded; none of this made sense. Where were the bodies? Where was the blood? Despite the devastation all around him, it was as though everyone had been vaporized.

All except him.

He tried going into the ruined city but didn't get very far. The path was blocked with rubble taller than he was. Debris still fell from the sky; it almost looked like snow, but he knew better.

Strangely, the dust didn't settle on him. This fact disturbed him; logically he should have been covered head to foot in the thick dust. Instead it just rolled off him in rivulets.

As he stumbled away from the destroyed city and his wits returned, a terrible thought occurred to him. It stopped him in his tracks, and he almost became physically ill. The devastation was not only contained to LA proper--it seemed to stretch for miles around.

Hakan sprinted, his adrenaline pounding in his ears. Weaving in and out of empty cars, he didn't stop running until he came to his bike. It was on its side, and when he picked it up he noticed how horribly scratched it was from sliding a good distance. Hakan quickly checked to make sure the gas line wasn't leaking, and then hopped on.

"Come on, baby," he said, trying to start it.

Nothing happened. He tried again. Still nothing. He tried a final time and when it still did absolutely nothing, he swore, got off, and kicked it. He took off running again, looking for any car that wasn't destroyed. Eventually he found one, relieved to find the key still in the ignition.

But, just like his bike, when he turned the key nothing happened. The engine didn't turn over. The dashboard lights flickered on and off sporadically but it didn't do anything; literally nothing worked.

Hakan exited the car and kicked that too, running his hands through his hair in disbelief. Was it an EMP bomb? Pushing panic to the edges of his mind, he ran to another car only to have the same thing happen.

Giving up, Hakan realized if he wanted to get back home he was going to have to go on foot. Hoping he would eventually run into someone who could help him understand what the hell was going on, Hakan started to jog back towards home.

~

Three hours later, Hakan made it back to Gardena. He was exhausted and sore. He was also in a full blown panic now, completely bewildered by the situation he found himself in.

The entire trip back he hadn't run into a single person. He was a little relieved when he made it off the highway and found most houses had sustained little to no damage from whatever had happened. Even so, he was still disturbed by the eerie silence that followed him like a plague.

He came upon a house where the door was left open. Curious he entered, hesitating in the foyer.

"H-Hello?"

No answer.

"Hello!"

Still nothing. Hakan entered the house and looked around. The first floor was empty, everything in neat order. Hakan slowly made his way upstairs, the staircase hallway lined with picture frames from the family that lived here.

"Hello?" Hakan tried again when he reached the top landing. Still nothing.

He checked the rooms. One was a bathroom. One appeared to be the room of a teenage girl, pop icon posters taped to the walls. The second bedroom was that of a young boys. The last room was a nice master bedroom.

Hakan put his hands on his hips, looking around the master bedroom.

"Where is everyo--"

He didn't finish his sentence, for he suddenly was falling. He screamed in disbelief, passing through the floor. He landed with a hard thud on his back. Strangely, the wind was not knocked out of him. He gawked at the in tact ceiling above him.

"What the--"

Hakan was falling again, this time all the way to the basement. He landed on his side this time. Scrambling to his feet, he looked around himself, bewildered.

"What the hell?!" he panted. "What the hell?!"

An abrupt thought occurred to him that turned his blood cold. He looked at his hands, flipping them over to look at both sides. They were his hands. He looked up his arms, running his hands over his body and patting himself down.

Trembling, Hakan walked to the stairs. He got to the third one before he fell through again. Cursing, he tried again. This time he made it to the landing before he fell through. Concentrating really hard, Hakan gripped the banister, focusing on the weight of his feet as they touched the stairs.

This time, he made it to the top. Quickly he raced outside, stomping the entire way. When he didn't fall through the ground after flinging himself face down in the grass, he decided to try a small experiment.

Taking deep breaths, Hakan calmed himself considerably. He then stood, walking back over to the porch steps. Taking a final breath, Hakan stuck out his right leg. It passed through the stairs. Losing his balance and almost falling over because he didn't think it would work, Hakan caught himself.

Trembling, he once again thought about the physical weight his leg and foot should have. Once he had it firmly planted in his mind, Hakan once again stuck out his leg. This time, his leg touched the stair. He even kicked it to make sure, and then put his weight on it.

Hakan fell backwards and collapsed on the grass again, covering his face with both hands. It all made sense, and he began to hyperventilate. He moaned loudly.

"Oh my God, I'm dead. I'm dead! I'm really, actually, truly dead."

For a moment his mind whirled, trying to further make sense of everything. Hakan figured he wouldn't sink through the ground because it was made of the earth, whereas houses were man made. It made sense to him he could pass through man made things, unintentionally or otherwise, because they were unnatural and he was no longer part of the physical world humans had built for themselves.

Looking back at the last few minutes, Hakan found that when he didn't think of himself as a living being, or his mind wandered, that was when he slipped into a incorporeal state and started passing through stuff. Which meant, he was probably a ghost...

Calming his breathing, Hakan got to his feet and set his jaw.

"I have to find Vincent."