Gold Digger Fan Fiction / Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Crossbreed ❯ Dark ( Prologue )

 

Crossbreed

 

Prologue - Dark

 

Written by Dmitri `Ranshin' Antonov

 

It was dark, there was no light. No light in the utter darkness. He didn't know why he was here, he didn't know this place. He had never seen such a dark place, even mountain caves during winter nights had something that you could see. But here, you could see nothing, nothing at all.

 

Then there was a light, and after it followed another light, then a third one, and then a fourth. The lights were empty in the darkness, as if bullied by the shadows, but they didn't stray nor falter. The lights were like a blessing in the never ending sea of black.

 

He noticed movement, which shocked him. Why would there be movement in this god forsaken place. Only someone with a death wish would be here, and death probably wasn't the worst thing this place had to offer. He then noticed more movement; he identified it as some sort of creature. Human or animal, he could not tell. It could have been the demons that inhabited this place.

 

More movement in the shadows followed, this time closer to the light. He saw someone, someone running, someone running that had two legs. It might have been a human, or the devil himself, he couldn't tell, only that it walked on two legs.

 

The movement continued, always getting closer and closer to the lights, but never exposing themselves to the white rays that seemed like the only hope this place had to offer.

 

He could tell that what he saw was definitely something like a human, but couldn't tell the race or sex, much less if it was one hundred percent human. He strained his to try to see, but to no avail. His senses failed him in this place. He could hear nothing, smell nothing, taste nothing, feel nothing, he could only see and even that he did badly. His senses failed him in this place.

 

After what seemed like forever of attempting to see what the roaming shadows were, he heard a sound. A sound in the darkness, a sound in this forsaken place, a sound in a place that he wouldn't wish on anybody, a sound in a place thousands of times worse than hell could ever be.

 

The sound he couldn't identify, which didn't really surprise him. After all, what could you identify in this place, where everything was so much different, where everything was confusing and horrible, where people went crazy, where people died.

 

He heard a sound again, this time it was clearer. Yet he couldn't identify it, he didn't recognize it. His memory failed him; his memory failed him in this place, just like his senses failed him.

 

The sound came again, and then again, and then came multiple sounds, more and more of them, and he couldn't identify a single one. He heard more and more sounds, but him they just sounded like echoes, the sources of which were miles away. He could hear, but he could not understand. He could not understand in this place, in this hell, in this abyss, in this darkness, he could not understand.

 

He could see, and he could hear, but that didn't change anything. He would be anywhere but here, he would be running away from hungry wolves, he would be tortured by indescribable means, he would fight the devil himself to the death, and he would do all this, rather than be in this place. This darkness was killing him, it was eating him alive, and it was doing it slowly, as if enjoying it.

 

Then a taste fell to his lips, a strange taste familiar yet not. It was sort of tangy, maybe even salty, but he couldn't place it. He searched his mind and his memory for anything that might lead him to identifying the taste. But his mind failed him in this place, his memory failed him in this place, his senses failed him in this place.

 

He could now see moving shadows, he could hear repeating sounds, and he could taste something. All this seemed strange to him, as if he wasn't supposed to be capable of any of these feats in this place. He could see, hear and taste. Three of his five senses worked, and he felt as if that by itself was a miracle. Any normality was like a blessing in this forsaken place.

 

Then he noticed that he was breathing, he didn't understand how had just noticed. It was as if all this time, he had been holding his breath. And how long has it been? A minute? An hour? Days? Weeks? Months? Years? Decades? Centuries? He felt as if millennia had gone by in this place. In this place where time had no meaning, where time was nonexistent.

 

As he felt himself breathe, he found a fragrance. He could smell something. He could smell something, yet he could not tell what it was. He could not tell what it was in this place. That didn't surprise him; it didn't surprise him in the least. This place was nothingness, this place was confusion, this place was darkness, and this place was hell on earth.

 

Four senses were alive. He could see, he could hear, he could taste, he could smell. And he felt his senses slowly getting sharper, slowly improving. His sight got sharper, his hearing got clearer, his sense of taste and smell got much better as well. This was strange, this was confusing, and this was unnatural, in this unnatural place.

 

He could see the shadows that were moving. They were humans, they were fighting. They were fighting in this place. They were different humans, four different looking humans. They fought, the battled, they waged a war. They were fighting in this place, this place of destruction, this place of war, this place of death.

 

He could identify the sounds, he could hear them. He could hear the sounds of fists impacting skin, he could hear the clang of metal against metal, he could hear the battle cries, and he could hear the rapid breathing of the fighters. He could hear the battle; he could hear the war, the war in this place, the war of all wars.

 

He could taste blood. He tasted blood on his lips, on his tongue. He could taste the dark red liquid in his mouth. He could feel it running from invisible wounds, he could feel it, taste it, and he could taste the war. He could taste it in this place, he could taste the battle, he could taste the pain, and he could taste the war.

 

He could smell blood, he could smell fire, and he could smell death. He could smell in this place, he could smell the death of this place, he could smell the abyss, he could smell the darkness.

 

Then he felt strange, he felt strange in this place. Wait. He felt? He could feel, he could feel his body, he could feel his body move, he could feel himself fight. He felt his body move in many different ways, he felt himself dodge lethal blows, and he felt himself furiously fight back, fighting in this place, in this place of death.

 

He could see his opponents, and he could see them attacking him, with the intent to kill. He could hear as his fist sailed though the air and hit its target straight on. He could hear as the flames, he could hear the battle. He could taste the blood on his lips, he could taste the blood running down his face, and he could taste it. He could smell the blood, the death, the decay, the abyss. He could smell the fire, and he could smell the battle. He could feel himself in this place, this abomination.

 

He could feel himself, and he could feel another self, and another, and yet another. And he could feel himself fight himself. He could feel himself trying to kill himself, feel himself trying to destroy himself. He could feel himself waging war with himself, in this place, this place of war, this place of chaos, this dark demented place of death.

 

He could see it, he could hear it, he could taste it, he could smell it, and he could feel it. He could feel this place, this horrid place.

 

And then it all stopped. He couldn't feel anything. Nor smell nor taste. Not a single sound reached his ears, and he could see nothing but darkness, the awful darkness that made him want to die, the terrible darkness that made him want to end his life.

 

Then the lights came back, and he could see people standing in the light. All his senses returned, they all returned with a rush, they all returned in this place. And he could see, he could hear, he could taste, he could smell, and he could feel.

 

He saw the small lights in the darkness, barely surviving, desperately trying to fend off the black of the abyss. He could see the people in the light; he could see the ones that strayed from the darkness. He could see them.

 

He could see himself, and himself, and himself, and himself.

 

And he screamed, he screamed in this place, this place of darkness.