Child of Red and Blue

Chapter Four

Coming back to life was a familiar sensation. It began first with panic that flashed through Alana's body, bringing the terror and pain of her last few moments to her limbs. When that fraction of a second passed, the memories lingered and hunger gnawed its way into her awareness. And then, she breathed, jerking forward.

If not for those things, the vast darkness surrounding her would have made her think she was still dead. Though, thinking in and of itself proved otherwise.

Before Alana could cling to her memories of the emptiness after death, a deep muttering voice smacked into her. She twisted to see an impossibly tall man circling her. A smile split his tawny face, a sparkle danced in his red eyes, and his white hair stood on end in places, like he'd pulled at it.

The bizarreness of his red shirt and pants cloaked in a white leather coat, mixed with his height and eyes, made it clear Alana was stuck in the place after death. She felt nothing beneath her, not even a solidness that supported his vulture like stalking or her awkward sit.

The fear that clung to her like a stubborn tear dropped off and she watched the chattering man with interest. Despite the rumble in the back of the man's throat, his tone leapt at the ends of his rapid clauses. Hands waving this way and that, he continued to speak in a language so broken, Alana was sure she couldn't hear part of his words.

Just as Alana wondered what he was talking about with such passion, the words came clearly. She'd been alive all of two seconds.

“She almost begged me not to come. Told me it was my mind playing tricks on me, but I saw you. You touched me.” His wild eyes held a childish hope. “Your energy can’t be mistaken.”

And just like that, fear bored through Alana's veins again. Energy. That man with the brilliant gray and turquoise eyes killed her over energy.

“How did you manage to squeeze into such a tiny form? Clever. On Meantu of all places. They could never touch you. But I am here and we can begin the restoration. You must be able to hear their cries, even pressed like that.”

Alana's breaths came in shutters. Seeing her terror, the man's hope turned into sharp suspicion.

“You do hear them don't you? Screaming for you. Begging to be freed.”

Rage flashed over his face a moment before he stomped toward Alana. She screamed and scrambled away from his large hand. There was nothing to use to defend herself. Nothing to hide her naked form. Nothing.

He seized her arm easily, his eyes searching hers. “Have you forgotten them? Forgotten me?” Something in him switched and he smiled, his grip loosened. “Is that all? Surely some compromises had to be made to fit. Without a vessel.”

He let her go completely and laughed, deep. “Patience is a virtue I lack.” The smile dropped and he grabbed Alana again, this time by the wrist. “Here, I'll show you.”

Color burned into the darkness. Sound screamed through the silence. A forest coated in blue and white flames illuminated the horror before her while the flames tattooing the sky gave everything an orange glow. Beasts of all shapes and sizes fought around her. Well, one side fought, the other was slaughtered with no more than a whimper.

A large snake riddled with jewels wrapped around a red being bringing down a rock on its head with the force of three arms. Living lightning swam through the air, penetrating the bodies of those around it and dragging out their writhing souls. Two fifteen foot giants clashed with a force that cracked the ground and tossed flecks of earth to Alana’s feet.

In the far distance was a dragon on fire. Lava ripped across its body like blue lightning, creeping up its horns and across its wings. White flames blossomed around the being, plucking off and flowing to a nearby building like an atomic bomb stitched into a rose petal.

Smoke scraped down Alana's throat and she coughed, tears running down her face.

“You remember what we did, yes?” the man continued, only he wasn't a man. Dark green exoskeleton had wrapped and wound around his form, bulking and stretching him to a monstrous new height. Spikes shot in every direction, pinning fleeing victims with an accuracy the bright glowing eyes didn't seem capable.

“What you orchestrated?”

Alana couldn't get her breathing under control. Maybe this was Hell.

The world wiped out and the man stalked around her. “No,” he growled, anger echoing in the nothingness. “This isn't right. You aren't right.”

Suddenly his hand was around her throat and he had pulled her two feet off the ground to meet his gaze.

“I don't feel you now. She said it wasn't real. Begged me to stay but I came for you!” His voice crept to a scream, spit speckling Alana's face. “You don't burn me the same.”

Alana clenched at his hand, flailed, cried.

The man's eyes searched her, rage fizzled into desperation. “Are you real? A human. A vessel without a host?”

Then he dropped her and gripped his hair. “A human. On meantu. Burning me with all Their glory. Of course you aren't real!”

Alana scrambled backward, one hand on her raw throat, one on the firm nothingness below.

The man stalked toward her, his armor chipping away to the red attire. Rather than strike her, he fell into a squat.

“I haven't gone mad again, have I?” He waited for an answer, then frowned. “You usually talk, you know. Convince me to do the right thing. Only it's wrong because you don’t exist.”

He hopped forward, eating the distance Alana had scrambled. “Do you hear the screams too? A vivid hallucination is only as perceptive as its host after all so you must hear them calling.”

He waited longer for a response. His red eyes scanned Alana's body, resting on her neck. “You can't be hurt though.”

He plopped on his butt. A wall sprang behind Alana in the darkness, trapping her. “Do speak. I would will you away, but you echo Them so nicely. I feel like I have purpose again.”

Alana continued to stare. This man was insane. Maybe he’d been trapped in this endless nothing so long he'd lost his mind.

The man tilted his head. “The space between realities does do funny things to me, but it wasn't here I lost my mind.”

He smiled the grin of a child given free rein in a toy store. “You don't fade like the others. Of course, there's nothing here to distract me.”

He lurched forward on his knees, hand outstretched. Alana smacked him with a scream, pushed against the wall to stand. Delighted, the man stood with her, stooping to stay at her height.

“Leave me alone.” Her voice cracked, her throat burned.

“It is you who molests me. Be gone.”

He stared, waited, pouted. Then rage returned. “I said leave. I wish no longer to be mad.”

Alana pressed her back to the wall she couldn't see. The man's face was close to her, but she felt nothing: not his heat or breath.

“You're not real, are you?” he asked again, confusion coloring his frown.

Trying to gather some thought, she said, “If you want me gone, you have to put me back.”

He pushed closer, ruby eyes demanding her attention. “Clever Sickness.”

Then the world popped. The transition from utter darkness to the pressure, sights, and smells of reality swirled with fear to turn Alana's knees to jelly. She collapsed on the jagged, burned ruins of the courtyard outside Leon’s home.

The man in the red shirt and pants said something in that horrid broken language, but it cut off when he turned. Alana looked up to see the man with the gray eyes.

All the rage he'd displayed trying to kill her was locked away behind steel eyes tinted in vague disappointment. His long torso leaned back and his hands rested in the pockets of his slacks.

The two spoke quickly in the same foreign tongue. The madman gestured to Alana, making her flinch. The other looked at the space around her, but found nothing to fixate.

A humming pressure built behind Alana's eyes as if bees had made a home in her head. Then a deep, smooth voice pierced through the jumbled mess her ears heard.

“Unless you would like him to throw you back in,” the gray man said, “I suggest you get away from him.”

When the devil tells you to run to escape Hell, it's best not to stick around to figure out why.

Alana got to her feet. Seeing her move, the madman reached for her arm. Fear must have blurred reality because rather than feeling the heat of his skin, his hand sifted through her arm.

She looked back just enough to see horror crunch his face. The darkened husks of trees offered her no cover, but at least she can see the faint outline of the road in the setting sun.

Alana ran until her side cramped and her feet throbbed from the scarred earth. The sight of the madman’s white trench coat behind her kept her moving at a trot.

Her toes met pavement and relief took her when headlights bathed her body. She staggered forward, one hand waving, the other over her bare chest.

The approaching van screeched to a halt, front wheels turning it askew. The side door flung open, rocking the van with the force.

A hollow face poked through the opening, making Alana’s stomach drop. “Little Aly, you're all dirty,” Demetrius cooed. “Rough night?”