The crunch of dirt, the tumble of gravel, the muffled tear of tight-knit moss. Something was digging at my moldy grave. Then, suddenly light. A patch of soil was torn free from where my head was, letting flecks of light stream into my vision, but it was quickly blocked as more dirt piled and tumbled down on me. Something was trying to excavate my head, but so much dirt and soil had piled up that it seemed difficult.
I wanted to escape, I wanted to leave this underground prison desperately, so I fought against the heavy pile of rubble I was trapped under. Even minor things, shifting my jaw, twisting my wrist, wiggling my toe bones, anything I did I hoped might loosen the dirt that trapped me. It seemed to have helped, and whatever was trying to unlock me from my prison hefted away a large pile of dirt that caused a small avalanche to pull the soil away from my face.
Bright sky blinded me, blue as far as I could see, thick treeline foliage spattering my vision and blocking the vast open sky. A figure blocked part of my vision as well. Their pale white skin, a scar twisting across their left cheek and down their lip, wide purple eyes like gemstones, and a new feature; glistening white hair with tints of golden blonde, hanging long almost to her waist, partially dirtied by the dirt, dust, and moss she was digging in. While the person was similar, their hair was new and strange, this must have been someone new from the last two. Yet somehow the figure seemed familiar to me as I stared up at them, so close to their face.
As sunlight touched my bare bones, and I could see once again, a faint smile seemed to cross the lips of the figure; shrouded in shadow as they leaned over me. The figure continued to dig, almost feverishly, after they met my gaze. Tearing away at the dirt and moss in a frenzy. I helped them as best my weakened body could, moving and shifting to escape the thickly packed dirt, and eventually weakly digging at the dirt myself when my hand was freed. I didn’t ask or question why this person helped me, but I helped them help me in whatever way I could.
After several minutes I was dug free, and I could see around myself as dirt and moss fell out of my skull to fully unblock my vision. The ruin I had made an unfortunate rest within had fallen, the rubble crumbling around and barely the wall I laid my back against still stood. The surrounding ruins, which had once had tall walls that had guided me to the entrance, were almost all boulders or nondescript piles of rocks. Something must have happened while I was sleeping, maybe more monsters attacked and had destroyed the ruins but left my body alone? I couldn’t even begin to guess. Then I noticed; as I was looking at my surroundings my savior sat and stared at me with an almost awed grin.
The woman who had freed me had remarkably similar features to the two that I recalled seeing in my haze. Her only difference was being much taller than the other two, even sitting down she seemed taller than the last two were, she wore a simple bronze breastplate and hardened leather under-armor, and her long hair, that glistened like snowfall in a golden sunrise, draped around her like a silver-golden frame. She seemed powerfully built as well, despite her fairly agile and lithe body. I noticed then, she was mumbling something to herself over and over, too small and indistinct to hear. Then she spoke, “You… Are… People… of… Helnuan..?”
I was surprised, I could actually understand her words, though they were slow and strained, “I can understand you?” My voice came out like scraping gravel and old sand, barely a whisper.
“Uhmm!... Understand? Yes! Wait… Need help… You!”
“Do I need help? Or do you? You already saved me.”
She seemed to be getting overwhelmed, or confused, “Wait! No… fast…?”
I was beginning to get confused as well, “Thank you.” I said, trying to speak slowly.
“Thank you, you!” She paused and looked back towards the crumbling entrance of the ruins, “You… Help… Danger, no you…”
I was beginning to think I was understanding her jumbled speech, “Do you need my help?”
A face of glee and excitement, which took me by surprise, suddenly engulfed her face, “Yes! Help, come!”
The woman jumped to her feet eagerly climbing down the pile of dirt and rubble. I was still without any clothes or anything to hide my skeletal shame, but for whatever reason this woman seemed perfectly fine with my appearance. I tried to stand, but my bones and body were weak and barely held together. I tumbled down the pile instead of walking down it, and the woman almost shrieked in fear, running towards me with worry. I was weak, I was tired, my body barely followed my directions. I could hardly even understand what was happening as a haze was still holding sway over my mind.
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The woman rushed to my side, trying to help me up from my tumble. As she grabbed my bare bones I flinched back suddenly, and I nearly pushed her away but my strength was so weak it was barely a playful shove. The woman seemed to feel offense at this regardless, or maybe sadness, as she laid back on the ground as I crawled away. Then I saw it. Blood.
The woman had tumbled backwards, moreso in an attempt to separate herself from me than my own strength. As she fell her legs were plain to see, tears and rips opening the tight leather and showing still bleeding wounds cut across her once-fair skin. Then I began to focus, my mind heightened with enhanced attention, and I saw her other wounds. A cut just under her breastplate, opening the leather outward and a dark stain coloring the leather black. Her right arm had no sleeve or armored glove like her left did, and her knuckles were bruised and red while scratches and a harsh burn by her elbow were suddenly obvious. She was a wreck, covered in what looked like battle scars, and above all my instincts told me she should become my food.
A hunger was taking over, one I hadn’t experienced before. I was exhausted, and some part of me told me her blood was what would satisfy that exhaustion. I fought against my instinct to lunge at her, a part of me said to fear this bloodthirst, it was wrong and disgusting to thirst this way. Yet she lay there, confused and unguarded, and I fought against this desire to fall on her in a blood-frenzied rage.
The woman seemed to notice my stare, despite my lack of eyes I suppose my head tracked her every movement, and she seemed to come to a realization. I think my jaw was open, if I could salivate I would’ve been sitting in a puddle by now. I could think of nothing else but digging my teeth into flesh and entering a frenzy, but I tore myself away. I forced my head to look in another direction, I turned my body to face the ruins that opened to the serene scene of nature around me. The flitting of birds, chirping of songs, blowing breeze, and the passing of slow clouds. I focused on listening, I forced my mind away from the thoughts of blood and flesh. Yet even as I tried to pull myself away, I sensed the woman’s approach. She placed her hand on my leg, and my head snapped to look at her against my will.
The woman crawled forward, placing her armored glove on my leg and holding her bloodied arm out towards me like an offering. A fire exploded in the cage that was my chest, I felt and experienced a powerful desire. It engulfed me fully, it took over my senses and fought against my better judgment. Hunger. All-consuming hunger. I flung myself at her, wrestling her with a strength I hadn’t had outside the fight with Nefelair. She was powerless, but I don’t think she tried to resist anyway. I pulled her arm up in front of me, holding her down with a knee pushed against her gut. She winced and a little cry escaped her and a memory echoed in my mind at the sound.
I stood atop a hill, my senses focused on watching a campsite being torn apart by monsters and fire. A horrible monster, a terrible fiend with pitch wings and fueled by sin, tore a child from a small hut. The adult, a thin thing, tried desperately to protect the child. The child. The small thing, defenseless and weak. Both were thrown around like they had no power in them at all. Nefelair, that thing fueled by hate and rage ripped at their flesh and used them for his own amusement. Then I came back to the present.
I was pinning a defenseless woman to the ground. Pushing out any air in her lungs with my unnatural strength. I pulled her bloodied arm close to me, so hard it looked moments from dislocating. My hands squeezed and tore into her flesh as my claws pierced her delicate skin, my teeth hovering mere inches above what my hunger told me could be a satisfying feast. What was I to become? What would I be if I let primal instinct, unchecked hunger, and personal desires motivate me just because I had the power to let them? I pulled away, ashamed.
I don’t understand myself. My mind is a mix of forgotten memories, old angers, and new desires. Instinct guided me as often as curiosity and thought. I didn’t know what I was, but I know I didn’t want to be even remotely similar to Nefelair. My mind my own again, and my hunger being pushed as far down as I could manage, I pulled away and crawled to a corner in the ruined wall.
The woman caught her breath, my strange strength having pushed her so hard she couldn’t breathe properly. Yet even after my attack, she just lay on the ground staring towards me. She got up to a sitting position and still held out her arm towards me like some cruel taunt. The woman tried to speak in her jumbled and slow manner, “Help... You, eat?” She was truly offering herself to me, like some kind of sick sacrifice for some unknowable reason. I refused any part of it, trying to pull myself further into the stone to escape her offer, I pushed myself even further into the corner of the ruin. She persisted, approaching closer but putting her arm down so she could crawl against the mossy tile floor. “You eat. Strong. Help, no you…”
“What do you want with me?” I asked, confused and ashamed of myself, “Don’t offer me this, I don’t want it.” I begged.
“Help, no you… Help… Strong!” she said with dedication.
“I don’t want to hurt you… Please just stay back.”
“Grrh!” She growled, seemingly frustrated by what I said, “Help! You, come, help!”
“I don’t know what I could possibly help with… But you saved me… Do you really need me?”
“Yes!” she said eagerly.
“Then do not offer me anything like that again. I will help how I am, or not at all.” I said with as much sternness as my gravelly voice could muster.
She thought for a moment, my words delayed as she slowly heard and understood them, “Help… Come!”
The woman stood up and moved to offer her injured hand to me as if to help me stand as well, but she thought better of it and offered her left hand instead. I stood, and with what little strength I could muster I tried to stand tall and proud. I don’t know what I was or what I am, I don’t know why my body craves such blood and gore, but I refuse to give in if it would make me anything like the monster, Nefelair.