Shadows of Reality (The Catharsis Awakening Book 1)

by Christian Martin Jr.

  I looked back at Matthew and saw him charge into a swarm of Imps. Cautiously pleased, I swung and lobbed the head off one, then two more came at me. I leapt to the right and came down hard on another, which after I sliced that creature’s head in two, the other one hesitated—gave me enough time to wheel around and catch it in its midsection.

  All the while I was fighting, slowly closing the distance between King Matthew and myself, he fought better now in his cognition than he ever had before this time. Impressive to behold.

  A large tree with a wide girth at the edge of the forest allowed me enough cover to gain an advantage of not being noticed right away as I ran to his assistance. The rest of the enemy’s foray was now focused on one thing: Matthew.

  He was now on his back, swinging at anything that moved near him. I hurried to help, cutting down Imps from the back, flaying them wide open as I quickly joined his defense, but I was late.

  Matthew screamed. After cutting two more of these foul creatures in half, one jumped back to avoid Matthew’s sword. It was defenseless due to leaving its blade stuck in Matthew’s leg. I separated its gray head from its foul body.

  I hewed three more heads while their bodies fell near the King. The enemy did not appreciate the fact that I was whittling down their numbers. Another blade sliced into Matthew, his arm this time. I jumped beside him and hewed a swath through the enemy behind him.

  The swath was large enough for both of us to escape. At the same moment, I saw it take place, the opening was created. Short is the time for this passage through the opening to return—to either realm, and one is not guaranteed safe passage while cognitive of the realms.

  “It is time…” I yelled to him over my shoulder. I don’t think I impressed upon him the importance of this moment. He was too wounded to take the journey alone, but we needed to leave immediately.

  I cut the last two enemies down that closed in on Matthew. I dropped my sword, which vanished so that I could grab hold of the King. The loss of blood was extreme. Matthew could not stand, let alone walk; I had to carry him. I pleaded with him to get up and walk with me.

  “Matthew,” his feet dragging along behind, “you must leave now. I will call upon the Ancient for intervention…”

  The blood began to run out of the corner of his mouth. I didn’t see a wound to his chest. I wondered at this considerably.

  “Ishtal kahla al itsck…” I uttered hurriedly. This was supposed to have been a safe haven for him. It’s what was chosen to give him the best chance of recovery. “Ishtal kahla al itsck…” said I once again, more out of repetition than the meditativeness I should have.

  “Yeor, I can’t do this…” he gurgled.

  “Hush, my friend,” I said with a smile to encourage him. “No one can do this. But we do, and we keep doing until there is no more breath.”

  I hastened Matthew to the opening that the Ancient provided. Fierce turbulence boiled within my being: my path lay to intercept the other troop of the enemy that did not land here, and not to follow the King.

  Matthew vomited blood this time. Red mingled with the black stains on my tunic. “Matthew, you must not give up. The Ancient will meet you in the opening—I pray—and may Her eyes bring healing.”

  His eyes fluttered as he gave me a quick nod. I laid him down just inside the opening as it distorted the realm—as if it were an ice melt. I could not, nor was I permitted to follow him, my path was clearly defined in the opposite direction.

  I almost disobeyed, but remained true to my journey. Remorse or regret, I know not which, hounded me as I turned and ran toward the fjord, looking back over my shoulder several times until the opening closed and disappeared.

  29

  A GREEN BEAD

  Alie held Matt’s hand as she drifted into a fitful nap, her chair pulled in close to the hospital bed and her head hung low to one side of her shoulder. Her dark blonde locks covered a portion of her face and swirled slightly as she breathed.

  The events of the past couple days wore on her and she swore she felt more tired than usual. The nurse and Yeor were nowhere to be seen while Jake and Anna were in the room, but Alie thought just before she drifted off that she could feel the nurse’s presence, somewhere, near.

  Alie’s eyes popped open and she sat up startled, gripping Matt’s hand tightly. She didn’t know what woke her—she didn’t recall any startling sounds, nor did anyone come into the room. She scanned the room quickly.

  The nurse was standing where she had been the past couple of days, on the other side of Matt’s bed. Her eyes were wide open and she seemed to be in a trance, or just staring out of the room’s windows along the far wall that allowed a view over the parking lot. Alie didn’t know for sure, but she didn’t say anything to the nurse so as not to interrupt her, whatever she was doing.

  Alie noticed that Yeor was gone; however, his staff was left under the chair she was seated. No one else was in the room. Jake and Anna, she suspected, were still at lunch. She flicked her eyes at the clock; she’d been napping for almost 30 minutes.

  Anxiety rose within her and it began to grow in her mind to the point that she had to stand. She began to fidget with her legs and swiped her hair behind her several times. She became increasingly uncomfortable and didn’t know why. She looked at the nurse to gain an understanding.

  “If Matthew survives,” She said, “instruct him to return Yeor’s staff. It is a test. A test of the veil between the Waking Realm and that of Oneiron.” Her eyes burned bright, a radiance that unnerved Alie.

  “Who are you?” Alie asked softly.

  “The One. I am,” the nurse replied gently.

  A warmth filled Alie, but it was quickly replaced by the dread that continued to rise in her mind. She shook her head, which unleashed her bangs again. While she fretted her hair behind her, audible beeps quickened and a blinking light flashed on a panel of dials and switches, and the sawtooth waves on the monitor raced across the screen—the medical equipment screamed that Matt’s heart rate was climbing.

  Matt’s right arm swung toward her and then back. Alie looked at the Ancient, not certain if she should be happy that he moved or concerned that something went wrong. The heart rate monitor jumped to 120 and his blood pressure climbed. Alie’s anxiety squashed any warm feeling she had just experienced.

  “Um, I don’t think this is natural…is it?” Alie asked the Ancient.

  The Ancient smiled while her radiance grew, both in her eyes and her face. “There is nothing the men of this realm can do. They have been forbidden to enter and now Yeor must do what he was sent to do, even in spite of this attack.”

  Matt’s right leg flipped upward against the sheet. His right arm began to thrash back and forth wildly while Alie held tightly onto his left hand. Her skin crawled with the prickling of goosebumps forming on her arms and across her back.

  “No,” Alie told the Ancient, “something’s wrong here. No!” She looked up at where the sound of the beeping had increased, and the display now showed Matt’s heart rate at 135 and rising.

  “Steady, child,” the Ancient said to calm Alie.

  “No!” she screamed in reply as Matt’s entire body began to convulse and twist from side to side. Alie screamed toward the open doorway, “Help! We need help in here!”

  There was no reply. The nurses’ station continued on in an unhurried, yet busied fashion, like a machine slowly churning along with no sense of urgency.

  Alie jumped to her right and slammed up against the bedrail when Matt’s leg kicked up quickly. When it came back down to rest, a bright red stain soaked thru the sheet that covered his lower body. Alie’s eyes widened, attempting to plead with this nurse who claimed to be the One, but found Her eyes were closed and Her hands resting lightly on the bedrail that continued to vibrate from Matt squirming, twisting, and convulsing his upper torso.

  Alie screamed again when she lifted the bed sheet. For no apparent reason, bright red blood streamed from his thigh. It flowed as though a small
river had broken through a dike and was now pooling below his knee.

  Alie ran to the door’s entrance and screamed madly for help, but no one paid attention to her cries. The emergency call button, already pressed, went unheeded. The thought of stopping the bleeding was more important than trying to gain the attention of staff that seemed not to care and were oblivious to the situation.

  She quickly gathered a towel and washcloth from the bathroom, all the while she continued to scream for help. Matt thrashed wildly in the bed, blood squirting over the rails and onto the floor. When she ran back to his bedside, she found that he had a new wound on his left arm that was also gushing blood—the very blood she slipped on and caught herself on the rails while rushing back to his side.

  “Do something!” she screamed at the nurse who appeared to be as uninterested as the ICU staff.

  “No!” Alie yelled again. She quickly threw the sheet off him, wadded up the towel the best she could, and pressed it on the top of his leg where brightly colored blood spurted from a slice in the center of his quad. “How the hell?! Do something, somebody!”

  Sweat streamed down Alie’s forehead and onto her ashen face, mingled with the tears that were flowing. “Please help,” she cried to the nurse. Alie’s face contorted from the confusion, fear, and frustration, all the while Matt’s body continued to convulse.

  She flung her head around to flop her hair to the back, and glanced at his left arm; blood streamed from his bicep. She noticed the audio blips from the monitor had sped up to the point that she wasn’t sure if it wasn’t a continuous tone. Alie jerked her head up to the digital display of the heart rate monitor: 165…166…167…the sawtooth wave came at a furious frequency, until…

  Matt suddenly stopped thrashing. Without moving her head, she ran her eyes over his form that lay under the twisted sheet. Sweat beads on his forehead melded into each other and were now running as small rivulets down the side of his face. His gown was soaked in sweat and blood. Matt inhaled, then exhaled once…and then…he stopped breathing.

  Alie was already facing the monitor, and it only required a flick of her eyes from Matt to see that the numbers on it were slowly descending, and the sawtooth wave had disappeared. Sprawled out holding the towels on his leg and arm and slipping on his blood on the floor, she began to sob.

  The sawtooth had transformed into a continuous flatline. The numbers descended until a blinking zero illuminated the readout. The steady tone of the machine screamed the confirmation at her. And the nurse, was no longer.

  Motionless, her eyes wide and unblinking, Alie whispered, “Nooo…” Not understanding what just took place, the heart rending was unlike anything she felt before, and an emptiness rushed in as a flood. “Why…” she sobbed.

  She slid down the side of Matt’s bed, holding the towels in both hands, and she saw a thin opaque disk floating above Matt’s chest. The disk transformed into a small brilliant green bead, illuminated from the center. The alarms from the medical instruments blared. Filled with despair, her sobs stopped and she stared at the luminous green bead. She dropped the cloths on either side of her and slowly reached up and clutched Matt’s cold hand.

  “Please…” she whimpered and dropped her chin to her chest.

  Time seemed to stop. The sounds of the ICU ward faded. No longer were there the sounds of a forced air current through the vents in the ceiling behind her. The beeps, continuous tones, and the oxygen hiss from the wall connection all fell away from hearing and awareness.

  She slowly shook her head while rubbing his fingers with her own. She looked up once more, through strands of hair that did not fall to either side of her face, at the green bead still floating above.

  The bead morphed into a long oval disk that appeared to stretch over Matt’s chest. It brightened as quickly as it grew long. Suddenly, it flashed a vivid and intense virescent light that blinded Alie momentarily. She looked away, and when she returned her eyes, the oval disk had vanished.

  She sat looking up, blinking where the disk had been. Her vision regained quickly from the blinding flash, and she noticed that Matt’s arm had stopped bleeding. Not only stopped, the wound had closed completely and a bright red line replaced the open injury.

  Curious, she stood up. She jerked her head to the side to get the hair out of her eyes and she felt a small twitch in her hand. Barely breathing, she looked down; his fingers intertwined with hers lay lifeless.

  Alie stiffened. She was sure she felt something. Maybe it was only a wish—some trick of the mind. She peered out of the large windows of room 412 toward the nurses’ station. Nothing had changed—all remained the same during and now after his convulsions. Bewildered, that no one cared; no one answered her pleas for help; no one saw what he went through.

  Why didn’t any—her own thought was interrupted.

  She immediately looked down. She felt it. She knew she did a second time. Alie stopped breathing momentarily, and then…Matt grasped her hand. She jumped slightly back but didn’t remove her own grip. A post-mortem response?

  Alie stepped closer to the rail and studied his face. The steady tone from the monitor reminded her of death’s grip; yet she felt a disconnect from the senses of this world—she had experienced a full range of emotions that this realm could throw at someone, and now, she felt something else beyond her reach.

  She leaned over Matt and breathed on his lips, “Please…come back to me…I love you, Matthew.” Silent, she stood up, tears streaming; she stared at him.

  A faint movement upon his lips, then a flutter across his eye lids. Matthew’s eyes popped open at the same time he inhaled deeply and squeezed her hand. Alie wept as she rushed toward his face, her hair streaming around both of them as he blinked from the strands hitting his face.

  “Oh my God…” her voice trembled as her tears rained down on his face.

  “Hey there…” he said weakly, attempting to focus on her. “…Al…ie.”

  She kissed his lips, not caring what anyone thought if they walked in now. She backed slightly away and began to wipe her tears from his face with a nervous giggle, “Sorry for the mess.”

  Matthew reached up with his right hand, and with a light touch behind her head, drew her lips back to his.

  30

  THE PLAN

  Alie had cleaned up most of the blood from the floor with towels and washcloths she found in the bathroom when the two nurses from the station finally came into the room. She piled the bloodied rags into a corner of the bathroom and shut the door.

  Strange that the nurses didn’t say anything about Matt’s bloodied gown, sheets, or the blood streaks on the bedrails or floor. They went about meticulously cleaning up after they ensured that Matt was alert and well. Alie refused to leave Matt’s side in spite of being asked to step out during the cleanup. The only time Matt stopped holding her hand—and she turned away to look at the opposite wall—was when the nurses needed to put a clean gown on him, changed his sheets, and removed the catheter; which he wasn’t too happy about.

  Once the cleanup was complete, the room and the bed looked as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. The two nurses checked the instruments and fiddled with monitoring devices—the rhythmic tones filled the room announcing life again, and a comforting sawtooth shape danced on the monitor.

  “Thank you,” Alie told the two nurses as they began to step out of Matt’s room. One of the nurses turned, and with a twinkle of her green eyes, nodded, and smiled in return. Without saying another word, they entered the corridor and disappeared. Alie let out a short gasp and quickly turned to Matt, but he had closed his eyes to rest.

  After the two silent nurses left the room, a doctor entered and performed a bedside evaluation. Simple questions like, “What is your name?”, “Who’s the president?”, and “How old are you?”

  “You look great considering what you’ve been through,” said the doctor who didn’t bother introducing himself when he came in. “We’ll let you rest for a while, and get
your system back to normal with some soft food before we get you into another room.” He smiled at Matt.

  “Thanks, Doc,” Matt said and returned the smile.

  Alie pulled up a chair from against the wall to sit close to Matt while the doctor spoke to him. After the quick evaluation, the doctor left and Alie took his place at his side. Matt moved the covers to look at his left quad.

  “Does it hurt?”

  “Not anymore,” he replied as he ran his finger over the brightly pink line where the flesh had closed over the wound. “It’s like the slice on my arm, and that old injury on my forearm, they seem to heal quickly. I’m dizzy though.”

  “Just lay back, okay?” Alie lightly touched his forehead and eased him back into the pillow. “Do you remember anything while you were out?”

  “Oh yeah,” he said nodding. “I’m pretty sure I remember everything.”

  Alie simply looked at him, waiting for more.

  “It’s crazy, but I remember everything, Alie. Jake and I were attacked while dealing with that psycho,” his tone was even, and he turned his head to face her, “I remember walking around and watching myself laying there after the attack—some sort of out of body thing. The medevac, then the surgery, coming in here, seeing you right before the nurses’ station, watching Trish talk to a doc…yeah, I remember everything.”

  Alie sat completely engrossed.

  “It’s all a bit jumbled,” he turned his head back squarely on the pillow, looking up at the ceiling again, and placed his right hand on his forehead. “I spoke with this…woman…she stood right here and had the most sparkling green eyes.”