When I Opened My Eyes

When I opened my eyes, I sure didn’t see what I expected to see. I knew that when I had closed my eyes, I had been in a much softer, more comfortable environment.

The cold hard surface beneath me was covered in dry grass and I was pretty sure that the crawly sensation on my skin was going to result in at least a few missing bites from my backside. I wrapped my arms around me to try to contain what little warmth I could.

The light around me was a misty gray, subtly illuminating my surroundings as though the first rays of day were creeping over the horizon. Dark green foliage was all around me where I lay on the ground and, as my eyes rose ever upward, it was obvious that the canopy above me was thick and lush enough to wall me in on all sides. My imagination teased my vision with hints of movement in my peripheral sightline, but when I turned to look, nothing was there.

It was impossible that I was sitting in a void, so I strained my hearing to catch even the slightest noises, but all I heard was so very distant, I couldn’t identify the source. Pressing my hands against the ground, I lifted myself into a sitting position and starbursts of light crashed on the shores of my conscious thoughts. My awareness was untethered momentarily as I tried to steady the spinning inside my head. As the aroma of ancient foliage filled my lungs, a mossy sensation tickled my tastebuds and I leaned forward to avoid retching.

I was thoroughly, eerily, unexplainably alone.

When the spinning subsided and the nausea passed, I opened my eyes and once again took in my surroundings. As I absentmindedly brushed off my arms and backside I noticed that, in addition to being cold, I was dirty and a little sticky. I was covered with dark crimson stains that contained bits of dirt, grass, and unidentifiable chunks of something I preferred not to dwell on. I concluded that the movements in my periphery and the crawly feeling must be from the flies I that I was attracting. Tucking back my stiff, crusty hair, I scratched inside my ears with a finger, dislodging coagulated chunks of red from both.

Now able to hear the buzzing of the flies and the distant song of a bird, I looked around for an explanation. On the ground, ending where I now stood, disturbed and bloodstained soil and grass formed a path. A few unsteady steps along the crimson trail, I found a probable source of the mess. The body, adorned with leather and metal armor, was lying face down. Its skull was caved in…no, not caved in. Rather it was as if it had burst outward and seemed to proudly display the now bloody and fly-infested gray-matter that used to be inside.

I knelt by a shoulder and, with some effort, rolled the limp body over, revealing the face of a pale-skinned young man. Images flashed quickly in my mind of this face. He expressed surprise, followed quickly by a scowl. I felt…fear…or was it enmity? There was a flash of silver metal. Then his expression changed to horror. He screamed.

I had passed by that dead tree. He had followed me. Or maybe I had followed him. There was an embossed symbol on his armor. A circle that contained an incomplete star. It was missing the top triangle, leaving only four points. The sight of it caused me to recoil with revulsion. My heartbeat quickened and I began to sweat. More mental images flashed, revealing the jeering faces of more pale-skinned men. I rubbed my wrist, recalling the rattle of chains. My hand gently touched my face and slid down my body, pausing over a still-painful burn on my chest, and then I hugged myself as I recalled pain and humiliation.

Shaking my head to drive away the faces and feelings of helplessness, I continued my examination. The man’s belt contained an empty sheath. I quickly located the missing weapon. I collected the belt, fastened it around my bare waist, and put the long metal dagger in its home.

The crimson path was more distinct beyond the body’s feet so I continued to follow it to a tree. On the other side of the tree I was greeted with the face of another pale-skinned man. This one was practically sundered in half by the hole in his torso. His armor was ripped outward. Viscera spilled all around. Some even clung to the tree trunk at his feet. A pair of red hand prints were clearly visible above the viscera and blood splatter.

I clutched my head as more images barged in, trampling on my senses. The bark of the tree trunk as I supported myself with my hands. I was warm and wet all over. Disoriented, I stepped away from the tree and slipped and tripped. My feet came out of the body’s torso as I fell. I felt fear. I ran.

A snort and a thump pulled me from the memories. One of the pale men’s animals stood nearby, next to a pond. It watched me with a big black eye as it tore up some grass with its mouth. It was like a very large deer with four solid blocks for feet rather than the two toes of a deer. I had seen the men ride on the backs of beasts like this one before. It seemed unconcerned as I approached it. I placed my hand on its thick, muscled neck. It leaned into the touch like a dog requesting scratches so I complied as I ran my hand along its smooth body. I paused as I reached its flank where I found a brand like the embossed symbol on the man’s armor. I traced my fingers over the scar and more images flooded in.

Lying in a soft bed, wrists restrained by metal bindings, I was trying to get the little bit of rest I was allowed when someone entered the room. It was one of the pale-skinned men with hair the color of dead grass. His boots thumped on the wooden floor. He placed the end of a metal rod in the fire of a nearby brazier and then removed his dirty white shirt, revealing a mass of dark, curly hair that was matted with sweat. My stomach churned and I frowned as I imagined what would come next. He spoke words that I did not understand and then a malevolent grin spread across his face. He pulled the metal rod out of the brazier. On the end was the symbol of a star without a top inside a circle. He backhanded me across my cheekbone with his free hand and while I was stunned, he thrust it at me, pressing the hot brand against my chest. As my skin sizzled, a primal scream escaped my throat, and I attempted to push him away. Rather than pushing him away, I felt something else. I felt my blood rush. I felt his blood rush. I felt an internal tug that promised freedom. I embraced the feeling. As if diving into water, I felt myself touch the surface. As the surface gave way, time seemed to lose meaning and I could sense the pulse of blood moving inside every creature around. I chose, and as I passed through the tension, I burst through my destination. I rested my hands on a tree trunk as the body of a man slid off of me with a wet sucking sound.