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christmas special; part one
IP: 95.149.91.94
Posted on December 25, 2009 at 04:05:16 PM by georgia

A year or so ago, in a world not dissimilar to this one, yet equally and completely different in almost every respect. The ground is hard, cold, solid – like ice, but a different texture. Earthy texture. There’s a sharp wind too, playing with the locks of her silver-blonde hair: picking them up, putting them down. Picking them up, putting them down. Aura opens her eyes. She’s lying on her front with her cheek to the ground in what seems to be a barren, empty landscape, devoid of any kind of landmark or scenery to mark its identity. It’s soil beneath her – plain, flat soil, slightly loose and gritty beneath her fingertips. Slowly she sits up, gazing out at the thick coils of fog obscuring the horizon from view. A quick 360 of the immediate area reveals nothing. No objects, natural or otherwise, and certainly no signs of life. Aura’s hands reach up to her heart to feel for her stab wound, only to discover that there isn’t one. Her body, although clothed in casual jeans and t-shirt, (which is odd, considering she was naked when she died) is completely unmarked and unharmed. Had it all been a dream? Dazedly, the young adult clambers to her feet, grasping a patch of soil and rubbing it between her fingers. As the sick disorientation fades away, the realisation slowly dawns on her: realm of the dead. She’s in the realm of the dead. It seems there are two options: wait here for something to happen, or go in search of... well, anything. Aura opts for the latter. She isn’t sure how long she walks for – it could be minutes, hours or days. There seems to be no sense of time here, although she’s relieved to find that normal sensations such as hunger and thirst still occur even after death. A little bit of continuity is never a bad thing. This world seems to contain nothing but the endless white fog and the flat brown soil: with the exception of herself, there is no colour bar white and brown. There’s not even a sun – the sky is white, like the fog, and seems to itself be giving off enough light to see by. Despite the fact that Aura is well used to having nobody but herself for company, after a timeless period of strolling through nothingness the loneliness and fear are beginning to gnaw at her soul; is she destined to spend eternity wandering this abandoned path in solitude? The concept of spending forever without a guiding hand or a comforting smile is incomprehensible. Thankfully, it’s not to be. Through the fog dark, murky shapes loom with step-stopping suddenness, forming the distinct outline of buildings. Better yet, as she nears she can see movement in and between the buildings: people, ordinary people, going about their daily business and doing all the things they would have done when they were alive. There’s a good deal of noise too, which, after such a long stretch of silence, is extremely welcome. “Newcomer, hey?” She turns to see a young man with dirty blonde hair and a square jaw, grinning lopsidedly at her and leaning on his shovel. Even in her current state, Aura can’t help but notice that he’s extremely attractive, and seems to have an air of familiarity about him; she’s sure she knows him from somewhere. Attempting to mask her fear in a way she’d never been able to do in life, she smiles back at him. “Is it that obvious?” The man laughs. “Heath Ledger,” he leaves the shovel half-buried in the ground and takes her hand, “come on, I’ll show you around.” Heath Ledger? – No! Surely not? Surely so. Heath pulls the stunned Aura closer to the buildings, which now begin to take shape. They don’t look anything like modern houses in the west, yet they seem more sophisticated than mud-huts from third-world countries: mainly timber, they are all small, simple and functional, all with thatched rooves and many with smoking chimneys. Heath zigzags down roads and through tiny alleyways, followed obediently by his female companion, who is too busy staring at him in awe to notice much about her surroundings. He leads her up to a building taller than most with a ladder inbuilt into the wall and, after shooting her an encouraging smile, begins to climb. Shrugging, Aura follows. The sight which greets them at the top is spectacular. This little community – which is either a large village or a small town, Aura can’t decide – is based in the centre of a large expanse of farmland. There are no animals, strangely, but endless rows of crops which stretch as far as the eye can see, although that isn’t particularly impressive given the fog obscures anything too far from view. Everywhere are people working the land, strolling through the streets, leaning out of windows and shouting at each other – doing all the things that people do. Heath leans back against the chimney, allowing Aura to absorb all this. “This is a commune,” he says softly after a few moments, “from what I’ve been told there are many of them scattered about the realm, although I’ve never seen any other than this one. We don’t tend to talk about living here, but I guess you could say this is where the good ones live.” Aura breaks her gaze from the incredible scenery to gaze at him. “The good ones?” “Aye, the good ones.” At that moment there’s a loud blare, like a horn. Panicky shouts and the sound of slamming doors fill the air, and her male companion swears loudly. He grabs her hand again. “Come on, we don’t want to be here when they strike.” “When who strikes?” “Raiders.”

Replies:

• christmas special; part two - By georgia December 25, 2009 at 04:05:57 PM
  • christmas special; part three - By georgia December 25, 2009 at 04:06:39 PM

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