Ok, so just throwing out a story I wrote a while back, just randomly, on whim, with not much forethought to it. It's a very very very rough draft, but wanted to throw it out there for the world to scrutinize. Remember, as per the rules of this section, do not post comments in this thread, but instead post them in my Creator's Corner thread found
Here.
He awoke with terror. It was as if he'd seen another world. The death, the slaughter. People were dying. Everyone was dying. He gripped his cover tightly, trying to force those images out of his head. Why had he had such a graphic dream? Why was he in such a strange place. It was like everything he ever knew was thrown out into a black abyss. It was horrible. It was terror.
"Darling? Are you ok?"
His mother had just walk into his room, her gentle eyes upon him.
"Yes mother, I just had a horrible nightmare."
She smiled, and walked over to his bed, laying her hand on his forehead.
"It's ok sweetheart, it was just a dream. Nothing bad can happen in this world, not after 'him'."
He saw his mother's smile, as she looked out the window at the full moon in the night sky. Yes, 'him'. The hero he had heard about all his life. The man that had saved this world from an eternity of darkness and despair. His mother had lived in that world, fought tooth and nail to survive. And then, out of nowhere, someone who could fight for them had appeared. He'd heard the stories so many times, it felt as if he'd lived that life.
His mother looked back down at him, a lowing smile on her face. "Nothing can hurt you, I promise you." She leaned foreward, and kissed his forehead, "Goodnight my sweet." His mother got up, and walked out of his room, blowing one more kiss to her son as she closed the door.
She was right, afterall. Nothing could hurt him in this world. He was safe. He was safe... why was he safe? This question sprung up in his mind for some reason. He knew why, and yet, he didn't. It was as if he shouldn't be safe. But he was only nine years old. Why would he even question these things. And again, why did that thought come into his head.
His mind raced. He didn't understand it all. He had never had such complex thoughts before in his life. It was as if someone else was thinking for him. But he knew that it was him. He knew they were his thoughts. But why? Why was he afraid?
As if an answer to the questions running through his mind, a shadowy figure appeared in his room. There was no entrance, he was just 'there'. He had appeared, but not suddenly, and yet not slowly. Somehow it had felt if he had walways been there, and yet had never been there before this moment.
Again, the boy's mind raced. Who is this man? Why is he in my room? Is he going to hurt me? No, no, mother said I was safe. But why am I safe? Should I really be safe? He has a choice. He could hurt me if he wanted. I'm not safe! I'm not!
"That's a good answer," the man spoke.
The boy was startled. What was a good answer? What was the man talking about? He was afraid. He was very afraid. In a world where he should have no fear, why was he so afraid? The boy could not keep his mind from racing over and over again. It was like a switch had been turned on. Like he had been awakened to some realization. He wanted to stop thinking. He wanted all these thoughts out of his head. He begged his mind to stop. He begged himself to stop thinking. But he could not, he would not stop being afraid.
"It's good to be afraid. It's good to have those thoughts," the man slowly stepped out of the shadows. "Without them, you would never be able to do what you need to do. But you must also learn how to calm those thoughts. You need to be stronger."
"I will take you to a place beyond time and space," the man spoke once more, his shrouded figure still terrifying the boy. "Boy, this is not your world, or should I say, this is not what it was supposed to be. And if I do not make you stronger, then this world will become what it once was."
The man stepped even closer, speaking in a dark, soulful voice. "And your mother, will die."
The boy's eyes shot open, fear piercing his heart once again. But this time, it was not fear for himself. It was not fear for his safety. This time, the boy feared for the life of his mother. For a split second, the boy thought the man was threatening him, but somehow, he knew he wasn't. This was not a threat. The man, somehow, felt the same as the boy did. He did not want the boy's mother to die. He wanted her to live. He had come here because he wanted her to live.
The boy looked up into the man's eyes. He could feel a deep sea of emotion emanating from the man. He may have been cold, and scary, but the man definitely had a heart. Without a second thought, the boy nodded his head, with resolution in his heart. He would save his mother. He would not let her die.
The man let out a small smile as he stood back to his feet. "Then come with me boy. I will make you the man you were born to be."
The man extended his hand toward the boy, and as the boy reach out to accept the gesture, the man spoke once more. "You will become what I always knew you would become, Michael."
Without a warning, the boy was thrust into a void of pitch black. He could not see, he could not hear, he could not feel. There was nothing around him, nothing except a pure black abyss. It was like he was floating in... nothingness.
He looked down, and saw he was all of a sudden in a room, and yet, he could not call it a room. The ceiling was not a ceiling, but the night sky. And the walls were not walls, but the same black abyss that he had been within moments ago. There was a floor, though it too was strange. The ground he stood upon was a sygil of some sort, embedded into what felt like solid ground, but below it the boy could see nothing. There was only the same night sky that the ceiling held.
"What is this place?" the boy questioned, looking at the man clad in a dark cloak.
"Where we are now, well, let's just say that we are at both the end, and the beginning of time," the man said, as he spoke more gently now than before. "Here, we are not subject to the outside world. Time does not flow here, because here, there is no time."
"So, I'll never get older?" the boy questioned.
And to the boys surprise, the man started laughing. "No no no, you will still age," the man laughed as he spoke. "What I should have said, was that from here, we can enter any time that we wish, so we do not have to worry about what happens on the outside."
"I found this place when I was about your age," the man spoke again, though this time, more serious. "Though, I had to do it on my own, in a world that you have seen only in your dreams."
The boy's eyes shot open once again. How did this man know what he was dreaming about?
"I know a lot more about you, Michael, than you could ever imagine."
***
Twelves years have passed, and the little boy was now a man.
"Good Michael, good! But attack more swiftly!" the man yelled, as the boy charged at him with his sword. "These enemies are not slow and dumb! They will rip you to shreds if you aren't quick."
The man parried the boy's attacks easily. Even when the boy got in a lucky strike to an unguarded point, the man would somehow evade it with ease. How did he get so good? Why did he get so good?
The boy had learned so little of this man over the twelve years he had spent with him, and yet the man seemed to know everything about him. But Michael did respect the man. He was strong, swift, agile. He had immense power, and great wisdom. And then it dawned on Michael.
"You! You're him!" Michael shouted suddenly. "You're the one!"
The man glanced at him quizzically.
"Ohh? And who am I?"
"You're the one my mom always talked about! You're him! You're the one that saved the world! That's why you know so much about them! That's why you're so good!" Michael was ranting. He had been wondering for so many years exactly who this man was, and he had finally figured it out.
"I won't deny who I am," the man said, "But I do not consider myself a hero."
Michael felt a pit in his heart as the man said those words. Somehow, he understood that the man was in pain, and somehow, he knew that pain.
"Maybe you, Michael, can undo the mistakes I have made. Maybe you, can save her..." the man turned away from Michael, staring off into the abyss.
Michael could feel that the man didn't want to talk anymore, but he had to ask one more question.
"Why...why does my mother look so happy when she speaks of you?"
The man turned his head back to see Michael. "Your mother and I... let's just say, we have history together."
The man then turned back around, and walked into the abyss.
"Training is over for today! Get some rest!" the man shouted as he disappeared.
