Khaos

by Louise Manson

  The world was grey again. Khaos looked around, in slow motion, but all she could see was grey smudge. It was difficult just to look around. There was a sound - a whimpering, muttering sound? Could it be a voice?

  And then out of the corner of her eye, she saw a face. She tried to focus on the face but it was difficult, the effort of concentration was drawing her to consciousness, she knew. But she needed to see this face. If it was a memory, it was important.

  Then she saw him; a young man. He was trembling, his lower lip shaking. His eyes full of… Fear? He seemed to be suspended in mid-air. Just his face. His mouth was moving, and that was where the noise was coming from. S was sure she could make out words:

  ‘Please!’ he gurgled. ‘Take what you want, but don’t hurt me!’ He sounded muffled, as if underwater. Her head fizzed with concentration. Is it a dream? Or a memory? What was happening to him?

  Khaos must have fallen asleep for longer this time, for she opened her eyes to see that a thin line of sunshine was breaking the dark andlighting up the horizon before them.Below the scuttering clouds she could see dark waves, a vast ocean spread out as far as the eye could see. She rubbed her eyes and stretched, puzzling over her strange dream, and noticed that the pain in her hands and knees from falling on the tarmac the previous night had gone. She inspected her palms to discover that there was not a scratch on them, when she had been sure that she had felt the stickiness of blood last night. Her knees were also scar-free, not even a bruise.

  As she pondered this, she saw on the edge of the horizon, where previously there had only been the sunrise and the endless sea, a small smudge, that could possibly be a piece of land. As they got closer, she discovered this was true, it was land; a green island with a long beach of white sand, and blessedly, they were heading toward it. She looked forward to standing on solid ground again.They finally came into land with a muffled thud on the dry, powdery sand. In her haste to disembark, but forgetting her stiffness, Khaos not so much climbed as slid off the horse’s back, the soft sand breaking her fall. She got up, legs aching from the ride, and staggered to the water, where she waded in and splashed her face in an attempt to wake herself up.‘Master!’ A nasal voice called to her. Khaos turned to see that the black horse was standing a little further inland, by the entrance of a very large cave. The horse tossed its head, beckoning her to follow.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Khaos approached the cave cautiously, nervous of the shadows within. The black horse waited for her impassively. Together they entered the gloom.

  The cave was not as dark as Khaos had envisaged, and in fact several light shafts glanced down on to their path, the blue sky showing clearly though the other side of the rock. The ceiling was high, almost like a cathedral, and the floor was pale sand. The rock walls were a terracotta colour, and about halfway up each side were discoloured with marks showing where the tide had come in and out, over and over, for what must have been thousands of years. At one point they came across a natural spring bubbling away peacefully to itself, which they stopped at to take a drink. Khaos noticed her reflection in the water, and stared for a moment, realising it was the first time she had seen herself since she had woken up. She was quite tall, she noted. Body slim, her skin a latte colour, her hair longish and tangled. Her eyes, grey… Not blue-grey or brown-grey, just grey. Had they always been grey? It seemed an unnatural colour for eyes. Am I pretty? She wondered to herself. Do I even know what that means? If I was, would I even be able to recognise it?

  They carried on and eventually reached a large, open cavern, in what must have been the heart of the island’s bedrock. Thousands of stalactites hung from the ceiling like an enormous chandelier, the stalagmites reached up toward them like fingers, pointing. In the middle of the room, lit by a shaft of sunlight lancing through the rock above, was a still, huddled figure, sitting with its face buried in its knees. Khaos approached the figure, reaching out as if intending to touch its shoulder, but at the last minute realisation dawned, and she jumped back in horror. The figure was a corpse, so ancient that the skin was dark and leathery and frozen on to the bones.

  ‘What happened to him?’ exclaimed Khaos. The black horse did not answer, but instead stood quietly by the entrance to the cavern. As Khaos considered this, she noticed what looked like cave paintings on one of the far walls, and went over for a closer look.

  At first, they seemed to be just scribbles painted on top of each other: ;stick figures with spears, and prehistoric animals with enormous bodies and tiny thin legs, rendered in charcoal and ochre and probably human blood. But after looking at it for a moment, a figure caught her eye that she recognised somehow, it was a stick figure but larger than the others, with black, bat-like wings and red colour rubbed vigorously around the figures outstretched hands – blood? Fire? She thought then of the fire that she had possibly started in the drug dealer’s house, and wondered if there was some connection. The painting depicted the winged figure leaning toward a group of four other stick figures, which were cowering away from it.

  Khaos stared at the painting bemusedly, wishing someone would explain it to her. She turned to address the horse again, but as the words formed in her mouth she noticed another painting on the other side of the cavern. And actually, as she looked around, she realised the cave was full of them. She strode over to another one to examine it, and saw the same winged figure, this time its hands were on the shoulders of another figure; a crouching demonic thing with black holes for eyes. All around the two figures was the same redness, which Khaos was beginning to believe was fire. Something struck a chord with this image, and Khaos remembered the vision she had of the man on his knees, turning into earth and exploding, and however surreal it had seemed then, the knowledge that the hands outstretched to him were her own. She hurried to the next painting, in it was the same figure, its hands outstretched, this time walls of a building collapsing around it. Another: the winged figure again, a smaller figure in its arms, like a child, or baby…? And the next painting: a black, dragon-like beast, falling out of the sky. She was almost relieved she did not recognise all these images, but she puzzled over their significance.

  The next one she stared at long and hard, in complete disbelief. In ochre and charcoal, on an ancient cave wall, the exterior of the hospital from the previous night was depicted as clear as day, down to the, the nearly empty car park and the black horse waiting in the distance. But the only inconsistency was that instead of herself running toward the horse, was the black winged figure again.

  She touched the picture gingerly, hoping to somehow disprove its authenticity, for her finger to come away with fresh charcoal on it, or the image to just rub off. But no, it was ingrained in the stone, weathered with age, despite the improbability of its existence.

  She felt a sinking in her stomach as a tiny part of her mind took a vague guess at the significance of these pictures, and the different figure in the painting. But she dismissed it, she could not trust her thoughts, they made no sense. No, she was sure that there was some other, more logical, explanation. She realised she was scratching her shoulders unconsciously and stopped herself.

  ‘Welcome, Khaos. Welcome back.’ It was the loud voice again, awakened once more, but not as booming or as urgent this time, though Khaos was not sure if this was because the situation was not as extreme as before, or if she was just getting used to its volume. ‘You are confused. But the answer is simple. The winged figure you see here is you, Khaos.

  ‘But… But it can’t be…’ she stuttered, barely taking it in. ‘I don’t have wings!’ she balked. ‘It can’t be…’

  ‘You do. Under your skin, they lay dormant. Your human body represses them as if they were some virus or affliction. But you will find a way to release them, and fly once more.’

  Khaos shuddered. ‘It can’t be. I didn’t do any of those other things. That’s not me. I’m just… I’m… Just…’ she sunk to the floor, clutching her head, the confusion and exhaustion was too much for her. ‘
Who am I anyway?! What is going on here? Why won’t anyone tell me?’

  ‘It was too much to explain to you all at once.’ said the horse in a breathy voice from the doorway. ‘We had to bring you here, for you to take it in gradually. It was too much for your human condition to cope with.’

  ‘What was? What do you need to explain?’

  ‘Who you are.’ said the voice in her head.

  ‘Who am I? And who are you, anyway?’

  ‘We are Khaos. You and I. I am the force of the universe, of creation and destruction, the alpha and the omega. I am a power that human imagination cannot comprehend. You are the human vessel that was chosen as my earthly presence, my physical form. Together, we have one task: to gather the sins of mankind, and bring about the destruction of this world.’

  Khaos, sat very still, trying to take it in. The alpha and the omega? The destruction of the world? It sounded crazy. It was crazy. But this place she was in, the paintings and the cave, the flying horse, her injuries disappearing – it was all real, wasn’t it? But it was just so far-fetched, it was laughable. She heard a hysterical chuckling, and realised it was coming out of her own mouth.

  ‘So this is what it’s like.’ Tears ran down her face, but she wasn’t sure if it was from laughing or from shock. ‘To be insane. I’ve heard of people hearing voices, seeing things. And now it’s me. I’m seeing flying horses and being told to do things by a voice in my head.’ She giggled uncontrollably.

  ‘You are not mad. I assure you. I am not merely a voice in your head. I am the ancient holy power of destruction and creation. Once, we were one force, united in our goal. Together, we destroyed the demon Sloth. We were unstoppable.’

  ‘So what happened?’ she tried to pull herself together.

  ‘Something poisoned you, and made you forget. You fell into that comatose state, and I was powerless within you.’

  ‘How did I get poisoned?’

  ‘Someone did this to you deliberately. We don’t know how or why, it should never have happened. But the poison made you forget your strength and power, forget your purpose. It left you in this coma, and for a time, sloth had you in its grip. Getting through to your subconscious has been a long hard road.’

  ‘But ‘if we were all powerful, then how did we get beaten?’

  ‘It seems our enemy has used some great cunning, to overcome us.’

  ‘Who’s our enemy? The devil?’ she snorted, trying to suppress her hysterical laughter.

  ‘Nearly.’ The voice paused. ‘The forces of evil are also incarnate on earth. They too, walk in human form, and will stop at nothing to foil our mission.’

  ‘Is this some sort of joke?!’

  ‘Human soul, this is no joke. Hell is always watching us. They don’t want us to succeed. They don’t want the world to end. They don’t want evil to be conquered. Wherever we go now, they will be sure to follow, waiting to catch us out, trying to find our weakness. This is the problem that we must resolve as quickly as possible.’

  ‘What the problem? What’s this ‘weakness’?’

  ‘It’s you, human soul.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You fight, always, to control the body. Your human soul blocks me at every turn.’

  ‘Well, I’m sorry! I…’

  ‘You must learn to control it. You must learn to control your human thoughts, feelings, desires. You must be focused. I have fought, long and hard just to get you to hear my voice, just to get you to wake up!’

  ‘Ok. Sorry. I’m awake now, why don’t we just merge back together and carry on?’

  ‘That is what I am trying to explain. The part of you that is human will not let me possess you. It is still within you to harness my powers and fly once more, but your human mind will not let go, and let me control you.’

  ‘So what do we do now? We’re pretty useless if I’m just a stupid human with no memories, and you’re an all powerful force, but you’re stuck in my head.’

  ‘We must carry on, no matter what. The prophecy must be fulfilled. So we will teach you to use our powers again. And you, human soul, must learn to let go. You will have help. You have already met Nyx?’

  The horse whinnied. ‘At your service, master.’

  ‘Nyx can transport you anywhere in the world, or even the universe, to any time, any realm, and he can take any form.’

  ‘I can’t even ride.’

  ‘You made it here, didn’t you? You must try to remember how to use your powers. The fate of the world depends on it.’

  ‘But I don’t want the world to end!’

  ‘You don’t want evil to be destroyed, once and for all?’

  ‘Well, yes, but…’

  ‘You don’t want the good souls of the earth to go to heaven? Do you want them to be bound forever to this dying world?’

  ‘Well no…’

  ‘It must be done. The time has come. Now make haste, go to the corpse in the middle of the room.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Do as I say.’ She ran to the middle of the room, where the corpse still huddled, frozen in time. ‘Now, take up his armour. It is your armour now.’ With much effort, she prised the ancient, corroded armour, which was made of some unidentifiable heavy metal, from the still corpse, trying her best but failing miserably not to touch the cold, hardened skin clutching the old bones.

  ‘Who was this anyway?’ she muttered through clenched teeth, as she tried to pull one of the arms away from the body to dislodge a shoulder pad.

  ‘The previous vessel.’

  ‘There was someone before me?’

  ‘There have been several worlds, several civilisations that have been born into existence and then destroyed again.’

  ‘So he died?’

  ‘Only his body. Now if you are ready, it is time to move on. Nyx?’

  ‘Master?’

  ‘Take us to Eden. We must get a weapon.’

  Khaos got to her feet, and followed the horse out of the cavern. They walked slowly, back through the cave passage, and as they passed the spring Khaos stopped again to splash her face, just to make sure once more that she wasn’t dreaming. But no amount of water took this madness away. She stared at her reflection, wishing to find solace in the cool water, but finding none.

  ‘But what if I can’t do this?’ she muttered.

  ‘You must. You have no choice.’ The voice within replied. Wordlessly she rose, and half walked, half staggered, outside. On the ever sunny beach, Nyx kneeled again, waiting patiently for her to mount again. And after a few false starts, they set off once more.

  CHAPTER SIX

  As the winged horse, Nyx, flew steadfastly through the air to their next destination, Khaos considered the revelations that had just been made known to her. She was still reeling from the influx of information, the sheer volume of fantasy that she must now accept as realityl. Not only was she forced to believe the realms of heaven and hell were indeed real, when most mortals only have to vaguely consider this at occasional points in their lives, but she was part of it, wrapped up in it, a live, supernatural weapon with the enormous task of gathering the sins of the world, whatever that meant. And all the other unbelievable things; the flying shape shifting horse, that she was sitting on right now, holding its mane in her hands. The shore of that sandy beach she had felt beneath her feet, the salt water she had felt on her face. The ancient cave with the impossible drawings, yet she had felt the cold, smooth wall under her fingertips. She could not deny that any of these things were real.

  And then there was the question of her self, this body she was in, and the power she supposedly carried within. That voice echoing in her brain, part of her. Could she really have those mind boggling powers? Could she really be anything other than human? ‘Am I not mortal then?’ she thought.

  ‘You were once. And your human mind still thinks you are. This is why you have fear, feel time pass, and experience pain. But you cannot die. Your wounds will heal before your eyes. I will not let you die.’

&
nbsp; The voice again, reading her thoughts. She looked at her palms, remembering her fall from the hospital stairs and how it had hurt. Now there was not even a mark to say that it had happened. Then she remembered the burn marks she had been admitted to hospital with, and how they had disappeared without a trace…

  Except the scars on her back. As if on cue, they itched again, and she reached round to scratch them. Under the skin there was a brief quiver, a movement that sickened Khaos’s gut. Something was under there. She thought of the pictures of the winged creature, and what the spirit voice had said, and shuddered, pushing those thoughts to the back of her mind. They were too difficult to contemplate at this moment.

  She stared at her wrist again, at the small black tattoo. She ran her fingertip over the seven little sections, forming a vague circle. Did it mean something? Perhaps they were symbols. Perhaps it had no significance at all.

  ‘What is this mark?’ she murmured out loud.

  ‘It is the mark of Sloth, the last demon you destroyed. They will all leave their mark on you. Their energy is incarcerated within you.’