Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction / Fan Fiction ❯ Akirame Norwen ❯ Aucun retour pour l'âme ( Chapter 19 )

(A/n: if you don't want to end up emotionally disturbed for the rest of your life, and if you have a vivid imagination... you might want to skip Erik's dream...not reading it will cause you to possibly be a little lost in later chapters... but don't worry.. I'll sum it up real good in a later chapter. Suggested songs? Hmmm... anything by Evanescence, really. Can't....think.... musta walked the entire mall's length fifty times.... arrrgh.)

Chapter 19: No Return

Erik violently tossed and turned in his bed. Sweat poured from his body, staining the sheets and blankets. His breathing was labored, and he continued to hopelessly tangle himself in the covers as he seemed to be fighting off an army of demons.

Falling... endless falling. Hot wind rushing over him, acid eating away at his soul. Erik's eyes widened as he looked around. He was falling down a tunnel, the walls of which seemed to be made of red flesh, squirming and pulsating as gnarled, burnt black bodies clung to it, their sharp claws piercing the throbbing muscles, drawing more of the acidic blood which they continued to fling at him.

Erik screamed, his fear eating away at his sanity. He looked down, and could see that the bottom was non-existent. The tunnel went on for eternity. Two winged demons, fallen angels with no souls, creatures destroyed by their own choice, flew up from the abyss to attack him, clawing violently at his clothing, tearing it away to leave him completely vulnerable.

Hatred began to grow within him, consuming him like a deadly cancer. He had to fight back, like he had done so many times before. He just had to defeat the demons, and then he would awaken. Erik closed his eyes, and allowed the evil, murderous hate take him over, allowing it to twist and mutilate his body. He growled and lashed out with his clawed hands, shredding the leathery wings of his attackers.

The two demons screamed, the last sound they made before Erik completely severed the desperately flapping appendages, and watched as the assailants fell to their eternal doom.

Erik laughed, a warped sound coming out from a mutilated body. He spread out the large, leathery wings that had sprouted from the loathing within him, and stopped his accent by making short, powerful strokes. He looked upwards, looking for the familiar distant pinprick of light. But now.... it was gone?

With brute determination, Erik winged his way endlessly upward. There was no way out... no way out?! Erik's already blistering mind was now screaming from realization of his fate.

"NO!" He screamed, flying in frantic circles.

He suddenly felt the presence of something nearby, approaching him... no, directly behind him. Light.... pure light. Instead of a soft, warming feeling, the light seemed to pierce right through him, causing his newly attained body to dissolve. He quickly twisted about to face the onslaught of purity, and came face-to-face with... an angel? He couldn't tell, all he could see in the glowing star before him was the faintest outline of a girl with long, flowing hair and a white gown. The deep, piercing blue eyes held him in place. He watched as the ruby red lips parted to form words in his mind.

"Erik.... Erik... you have fallen. You have let the hatred inside you grow and consume you. You cannot fight evil with evil, Erik. A kingdom divided against itself cannot stand." The words seemed to come from nowhere, and at the same time, everywhere.

"Can't I... can't I go back? Can't I wake up?" He asked, feeling his heartbeat racing.

"I'm sorry Erik, but you took your own life. You can't save yourself."

Erik suddenly felt that somehow, in some way, he knew what was going to happen next. "Then... what?" Was this all still just a dream? It had to be...

"Erik, I can bring you back from this place. But I need to have direct access to your soul."

Erik eyed her cautiously. What was she talking about? "My...my soul? Why?"

"I need to have a connection with someone so I can speak directly to Riku, as well as you and your compatriots. You will be needing my guidance if this legend is to ever be fulfilled." She said with words of a soothing tone.

"What would.... how would this affect me?"

The angel gave him a look of pure love, and walked over to him, then gently leaned toward him to whisper in his ear, "I would be living with you in your physical shell. My heart would beat right alongside yours. I would live somewhere inside you, speaking to you, telling you all you need to know."

Erik looked slightly down at her. "How... how would this affect you?"

The angel looked aside, as if afraid. "My physical body will still be somewhere else, yes, waiting for your arrival, but part of my soul will be within you, as part of yours will be within me. If one of us were to be killed, the other would die as well, along with the fate of your friends. You would also be able to feel my every emotion, as well as physical sensations, such as pain or pleasure."

Erik's mind was bewildered. "I don't want anything! I just want out of here! Please! Let me wake up! Let me go!" He screamed, his mind thrashing violently.

"I'm sorry Erik." The angel gently said, and with that, the dream faded away.

Erik bolted up in bed, panting heavily. He waited a moment for his vision to clear. Despite the bright moonlight coming in through the window in the room, every thing was hazed with black. It was hard to see anything. Trying to rationalize, Erik listened to the sounds of the other boys in the room. Snoring, one or two mumbled words from Sora, the quiet breathing of Riku. Red's dog-like jerking. Erik could feel the hot tears building up in his eyes. He wanted desperately for anyone to wake up and find him here, to comfort him somehow, but he was afraid of disturbing anyone.

His momentary fear suddenly seemed to grow, and the shadows in his sight thickened. He tried to swallow, but his parched throat choked him. He had to get out of this room, go somewhere where he could have some light and a glass of water.

He draped his legs over the edge of the bed and sat for a moment, listening to everything, as if debating what to do next. For a second he took into consideration that he was only in a pair of shorts, and wondered if he would be able to slip a tee-shirt on. He slowly stood up, and a wave of dizziness made the floor sway, making him strongly decide against the attempt of putting on more clothing. Trying to gain his balance, he made a long journey to the door, praying that his unsteady feet wouldn't make him tumble to the rocking ground.

Gently twisting the doorknob, he slipped out of the room and into the dark hallway. Making a bee-line for the stairs, he took a brave step forward. Suddenly, the room began to spin, and his blindness thickened even more, nearly consuming his sight. Unable to see or regain his balance, Erik allowed himself to slowly sink to the floor. He laid out on the carpet and closed his eyes, feeling the room swing him around like an extreme amusement park ride. Gravity seemed to hold him in place, and his throat was on fire.

Suddenly, as if from a distance, he could hear a small gasp and rushing feet. "Are you okay?" A voice said.

Erik couldn't move his lips or even will his throat to make a noise. "I'm thirsty... I'm dizzy..." He screamed in his mind, wishing whoever it was would help him.

He felt something cool touch his neck, and some incoherent muttering. At last his savior scooped him up in their arms and began to cautiously carry him downwards. He began to gasp for breath as he felt his chest shrink. The rescuer now hastened to take him somewhere, then suddenly stopped. He felt himself being set up in a chair. The cool wood pressed against his bare back, gently soothing him, although it did nothing to stop the whirling, black desert from consuming him. Erik managed to will his cemented lids to open. Although he could feel a cool breeze refreshing his eyes, he was surrounded in pitch black. Deciding it wasn't best to panic, he limply laid there, listening to the sound of someone rushing about on a tile floor. He could here the clink of glass objects being laid on the wooden table before him, and then the sucking sound of lids being pried open. "Okay, can you tell me what's wrong?" the voice asked him.

Erik gathered his strength and managed to force out a murmur. "I'm thirsty."

A glass was pressed to his lips, and he allowed the water to fill his mouth before he swallowed. Thirst gone, he could talk with some ease. "Erik.... did you overdose on those pills?" the voice asked, sounding angered.

Erik winced at the tone and tried to shake his head. "How many did you take?"

"Four."

The person sighed heavily and quickly rushed about, getting something. After a moment of silence accompanied by clicking and ripping, he felt something sharp prick his bare shoulder. "Ow....what're you doing?"

"You idiot. I told you not to overdo it. I'm giving you a shot to counter-act the medication. Hold still and shut up."

Erik did as he was told, feeling guilty, but incredibly relieved. The medication spread through his body, lifting the gravity and returning the world to its stable, unmoving state.

Erik felt his head being titled back, and drops of moisture gently dissolved the blindness, allowing him to see. He glanced around, and saw the obvious; he had been carried downstairs into the kitchen.

His savior now quickly cleared the table and put away all the scraps of paper and other things while leaving him there to recuperate. Gently lifting an aching arm, Erik rested his bandaged hand on the table, barely conceiving the fact that blood was seeping through the cloth and onto the table. He looked up to see Kira walking towards the table with two steaming cups in her hands. "Oh Erik, I hope you didn't re-open any wounds. You have any idea how many stitches I had to give you?" She scolded as she set down the cups and returned again to the out-of-sight source of medical supplies.

She returned with a small box of stuff and a towel, taking on the brisk mannerism of her mother. She gently picked up his hand to wipe away the bloody smears on the table with a antiseptic cloth before laying down a sterile towel to rest his hand on. She carefully undid the pins in his dirty bandages and began to unravel the grimy tape, revealing the layers of cloth and gauze underneath. "Erik...what were you thinking?" She said as she removed seemingly endless rolls of bandage.

"I... I just didn't care. I wanted to end it." He said simply, not able to look at her.

"End what?" She asked him, already removing the last layer. "Here, if you don't like scary stuff, look away." She said as she now fully exposed his hand.

Just out of pure curiosity and that deadly need-to-know instinct, he glanced, then ended up staring at his injury. His hand was zebra-striped with stitches and several staples, all surrounded by dark, crusty scabs and dark red-violet flesh. "Wow... it was that bad, huh?" Erik asked, watching as she cleaned his wounds.

"It was much worse." She said, moving almost mechanically to finish the job.

Erik sat back and rested his eyes while she re-bandaged his hand. When finished, she once again cleared the table and reheated whatever was in the cups. She emerged from the kitchen and took a seat across from him, placing a cup in front of him. Erik pried open his eyes and looked at the foreign steaming liquid. "Go ahead and drink it. It's good." Kira prodded.

Erik shrugged and lifted the cup to his lips, taking in the aroma of herbs and what-not. Taking a sip, he found the flavor to his liking, and took a gulp, letting the brew sear down his throat. For a moment he caught an aftertaste of vinegar, and his throat suddenly felt like he had applied vapor rub to it. "What is this stuff?" He asked, his voice feeling a little weird.

"My own secret brew for seriously stressed people. It's herbal tea with just a little dash of wine. Hardly enough to get anyone drunk, but enough to mellow anyone out." She admitted, taking a sip from her own cup.

"You're trying to get me drunk?" Erik tried to joke, feeling awkward when he remembered that he was practically half-naked in his shorts.

"Yep, and then I'm gonna seduce you, take all your money and run away to some foreign country to blow all of it!" She said.

Erik blushed at the statement and stared into his coffee, feeling shy. He waited for a moment before trying to steal a peek at his rescuer. Kira wasn't paying much attention, reaching back to pull the rubber band out of her hair and undoing her braid, running her finger through the glossy waves and curls before letting it settle about her shoulders and down her back. Erik smirked, letting a gentle wave of peaceful memories wash over his mind as he watched her movements, then stared into her bright green eyes. "Erik, are you okay?" She asked him.

Erik blushed and quickly looked away. "I-I'm sorry. I just... I uh... you really remind me of someone."

"As well I should. You know me Erik. Don't you remember me? Kira Kadowaki? The girl who lived across the street?"

Erik hung his head, searching the table. "Yeah... of course." He said, hanging his head.

"You almost seem upset to be reunited with your best friend after an nine-year absence." Kira accused, somewhat offended by his lack of excitement.

"Look, I'm really sorry, it's just... I've been having a bad day... no... more like a bad life. I mean, I've been mauled by a hyena, attempted overdose, had a nightmare, nearly killed myself trying to get downstairs---"

"Erik, what happened to all of the joy you used to have?" Kira interrupted, tired of hearing complaints.

Erik sighed and crossed his arms over his chest, trying to cover himself. She had no idea what he had been through. He couldn't possibly begin to tell her everything. "The past nine years changed me, Kira. In fact, I'm surprised you even recognized me at all. Do I even look the same?"

"Barely.... the younger Erik had brighter eyes, an adorable smile... and a little ring of baby fat around his face." She teased him, reaching out and quickly tracing his jaw-line with a finger.

Erik felt a little unnerved by the sudden action, and jerked back slightly at the touch. Kira blushed and looked away. Her best friend had grown up considerably... but she was certain that somewhere in there was still that little 5-year-old boy... under a hardened layer of independence.

There was a brief moment of silence... Erik sitting there, feeling chilled and somewhat underdressed in his shorts, Kira sitting across from him, trying to pry through his silence to get him to open up.