'Bzzz…Bzzzz…Rip!'
'Breaking news this evening we interrupt your scheduled broadcast to provide you all with an update,
Following last week's nationwide disaster, the president has decided to uphold the state of emergency for another 24 days.
Today marks 7 days since the East was hit with the most terrible disaster recorded ever in human history.
As we do every day at 6:00 pm.
We remember the 10 million people who lost their lives during that fateful night...
'Ziipt'
A slender, bony arm slowly unearthed away from a tiny hole between a large fort of duvets. The child caressed a dark TV remote in his frail grasp and gently pressed against the dark remote to turn the TV off abruptly.
With silence arrival, the hand quickly withdrew back into the safe confinements of its small hole, just big enough for an infant's hand to squeeze into.
Wrapped tightly in a cocoon fashioned from heavy bed sheets and blankets, soft cries and lengthy hiccups could be occasionally heard. During the colder nights, deep long hours of bitter sobbing without rest echoed against the frigid darkness contained within the room. Shoba had sat in this docile state for an entire week. He drank water in large gulps and nibbled on some stale bread in between his cries, he couldn't keep down any solid food without regurgitating it out minutes later, thankfully he managed to make it to the sink before creating an even bigger chaos on his hands.
There were times when he cried himself to sleep, only to be restlessly awoken by the nightmares and fears of one of those portals appearing again.
Worst case times, Shoba had to calm himself down to avoid passing out. The weight of stress sitting on his shoulders was by far heavier than he knew how to bare. Since that night his family was taken, he hadn't bathed or left the messy front room for a single second. Too scared to even be away from the scene of the disaster.
Deep in his heart, Shoba felt an instinctive urge to stay put and wait, though he couldn't rationalize this response, nor was he sure it was even a sane response. Yet, he chose to remain here, as still as a tree rooted on a barren hill beneath the dreadful night. Even the warmth from the self-made cocoon was beginning to feel cold and alien after a while.
'Mom…Dad…' The thoughts brought back a wave of deep anguish to the young boy. Unable to contain his sadness, Shoba cried unrestrainedly again.
Time passed, and the world outside continued its usual course. As with all things, the world moves despite what tragedies we humans hold within.
The frailties of life were ever apparent in moments of strife, and brutally indifferent to a single human's grief.
A few times fellows knocked on his door, but mostly Shoba ignored them. But one such time, he did manage to answer one of the persistent badgering of knuckles wrapping over the firm doorframe.
Shoba pulled the door open, allowing the cold wind to walk into the hallway. But the biting pain moved towards the back of his problems. Standing in front of him was a tall man dressed well for the coming cold days. Wrapped securely in a thick scarf, with a bowling hat resting on his head. Two feverish eyes beheld him beneath the thick rim. He creased a warm smile, albeit one tinged with a hint of sadness within it, before gently removing his hat to perform a slight bow.
“My condolences, and a good afternoon to you. My name is Dorian, I... I am an... acquaintance of the family. M-m-mr Thomas I-I mean-your Dad, we...worked-sigh...none of that matters now does it? Can I come inside?”
Shoba stared into the stranger's face without much emotion drawn across his own. He was so tired right now, that he was partially paying attention, still wondering if he had ever seen someone who worked with his dad before. Whilst the question lingered a lot longer than he might’ve hoped. The fellow casually walked past him; Shoba tailed him with a curious glint in his weary gaze. There was a growing sense of caution towards this fellow, his trench coat was suede and drooped low past his knees, the fellow scanned the walls of his hallway, and Shoba noticed his half-closed eyelids lingering on the family photos hung against the walls. Specifically, some of the old frames of his Dad during his childhood. Once Dorian noticed Shoba’s stare, he rather boldly made his way toward the front room.
“Oh my, this is...” He turned around to look at Shoba, who surprisingly felt a little embarrassed at the mess.
Instead of the chastising Shoba may usually encounter if he dared to leave any room in such a state. The tense air was filled with a chorus of laughter.
“Don’t feel too bad, you’ve experienced something that 99.9% of humans up until today had never faced before. We’ve lost several people, countless even. And yet, here you are...alive. Be thankful.”
Dorian walked around what was left of the space against the floor. Soon enough he returned to Shobas side. He was so tall the fellow needed to crouch down just to be eye level with him. Shoba took an unconscious step away. His hoarse sounding voice slightly trembled as he asked.
“Wh-wh-why are you...here?”
Dorians bright brown eyes lowered into a frown. Shoba could see a great deal of hurt in them. Observing Dorian a little deeper, Shoba understood the fellow couldn’t have been that old. His features were rather pleasant to the eye, but his scruffy clothes perhaps made him look older than he really was. Dorian raised his lowered gaze and beheld Shoba again with a slight intense stare.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, in truth I had always aspired to meet you. The son of a great man such as Dr Thomas.”
‘Wait? D-doctor who?’ One of Shoba’s brows lifted, wondering if this was a case of mistaken identity or if he was referring to his Mom, the scientist of the family.
“Hahaha, you look confused by that? Understandably so, your father was a complicated man. Far-far complicated than you could truly imagine...young Shoba.”
Shoba’s brow slightly narrowed; he felt cold sweat trickling down the side of his neck . Had his worst fears come true and had he let a completely crazed stranger into his home?
‘The worst case was he kidnaps me, the worser case was he’ll torture me before he kidnaps me then locks me away somewhere for good.’
Shoba admonished himself for even thinking about such a diabolical situation. The fellow had given him no reason to be so weary.
He smoothed the bridge of his nose, trying to calm his heart down.
“Sigh, I know that look boy. It’s alright, I was going to ask about your family but...judging by the state of things here. I imagine... you’ve faced exactly what most of the people across the world are going through right now.”
He didn’t say anything in response, his dreary gaze swept over the floor still covered with broken shards.
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“Your Dad was always there for me when I was lost and completely in a dark place. He was the one who saved me. I always vowed to pay my respects at the first opportunity I had. But then, I arrived early this morning to...well to this.”
Shoba lifted his eyes towards Dorian after hearing that.
“You don’t live here?” Shoba kind of guessed that was the case, his appearance and overall demeanor were far from someone who had endured what he had seen the previous night.
Dorian creased a painful smirk and shook his head.
“Bad memories kid, heh, heh-how ironic the moment I stepped foot into this country after so long. I find the world has gone mad. But-but...I believe there is hope..."
'Hope?' Shoba tried his best not to lash out, for what kind of hope was there in a world like this? He thought. A place where monsters appeared out of nowhere, and where people died so easily. 'So much blood.' The memories sent a cold wind racing through his thoughts. He was forced to swallow harshly, refraining himself from throwing up again. This world was cruel, Shoba even preferred the nightmares to all of this.
'At least I understood there was always an end.' Compared to this type of pain, it knew no bounds as to how deep it would run. His hands writhed over his stomach, feeling the encroaching anxiety taking root in his bosom again, pain, so much pain. Each time Shoba closed his eyes, he could still hear their voices. The screams and the-
"Hey kid!"
Dorians voice startled him, that and the sudden arrival of his two palms falling against his shoulders. "Relax, let your heart be still kid. With life there is hope. Just like all things, the cosmos surrounding us are life-giving. And the breath of those powers naturally sleeps within us. Trust me, Trust in the unseen powers beyond us, once you find it, you'll understand it then, and you'll find a way to overcome it all." The corners of Dorian's mouth pulled upwards, and Shoba felt a strange distant feeling encircling in his gut. He never felt this feeling since..."Dad?' That jovial smile appeared through his thoughts. And a sense of peace briefly welled in his heart.
Dorians smile was like a fracture of sunlight through a cloudy day.
"Every heartache, every hurdle, malice, confusion, doubts, None of these powers will hold any true meaning to you. heheh, a life free of ...a life free of...everything! " the strange fellow's gaze widened, Shoba could see it through those dark and wine-coloured eyes. The complete confidence in his words. It was strange, and somewhat...infectious.
"Haha you see, feels better already. Good-Good, now take this..." Dorian gathered Shoba's hand and placed a strange ornament, rather forcefully into the slightly bewitched boy's palm. No bigger than a baby's hand it was.
Shoba caressed what was a black wooden figurine in his palm. Carved expertly into the likeness of a strange miniature throne with four arms and a peculiar mask attached to the backrest of the throne. He gazed at the thing with uncertainty.
Before he could say another word, Dorian's voice rose again.
"Now then, I'm afraid it's time for me to take my leave. Don't be too sad, and if, if things turn out ok, I highly doubt this will be the last time we meet. Stay strong Shoba. The world is awaiting you.:
***
His encounter with Dorian improved his spirits somewhat but Shoba was slowly coming to terms with this harsh reality – nobody cared, only his family truly understood him. And now he had lost them, his cornerstone of happiness and security.
He drifted in and out of sleep until the skies outside darkened again. Upon waking up from another nightmare-induced sleep, he felt a sharp pain throbbing against his head, his mouth had become so dry he could taste the bitter bites of an ulcer forming, and his throat had become uncomfortably itchy too.
He was too weak. Too stiff and too mentally drained.
A mocking smile creased against his sullen face, understanding he had been the architect of his current plight. He remembered Dorian's words about hope.
'Maybe I should eat,' He thought to himself slightly wryly, that was the first time he formed some sort of coherent thought other than crying.
It wasn't a suicidal tendency; he just didn't know what else to do right now.
Since the disaster, Shoba had unconsciously turned to the news channels every hour, every day. Unexpectedly, the channels were filled with sad stories and recounts of that fateful night from various sources. Shoba never truly gauged how bad that night was, but the government had officially declared that 300,650 people had been killed or taken. Shoba almost felt sick recalling that.
Shoba ended up crawling across the floor towards the kitchen, contending with the shattered glass and debris still littering the floor from the night of the incident. In the darkness, and with his limited mobility, it seemed impossible to avoid minor cuts or kneeling on hard pieces of wood. But even the cuts of glass were not as sharp as the pain in his heart.
Calculating the distance to the kitchen, he maneuvered across the ground like an eel until his aching arms could no longer support him.
Upon entering the kitchen, Shoba smelled a foul odor lingering in the air.
Initially, he thought it emanated from himself – he hadn't bathed in seven days and was under no illusion about his current state. But this smell was distinctly sour, like moldy food or something decaying. After crawling further inside, he used the nearby furniture to haul himself up onto shaky legs.
His eyes locked onto the bottled waters on the lower shelf like a thief catching the sight of gold.
Instinctively, he grabbed a bottle, unscrewed the cap, and gulped down the cold liquid, squeezing the bottle with all his strength after he inhaled the entire liquid in moments.
Shoba exhaled with deep satisfaction, a rather hoarse 'ahh' sound crept free from his partially opened lips, whilst he endured the biting sores within the inside of his mouth.
It had been possibly three nights since his last drink of water, so the chilling sensation in his stomach after the first few sips was unsurprisingly very cold and a little painful. After crushing the empty bottle in his hand, he slid back down to the floor, resuming his previous prone stance, before he crawled back the way he came, towards his cocoon of comfort.
This time, there seemed to be less debris in his path. Shoba realized that his eyes had adjusted to the darkness by now; he noticed things he had missed before, like his father's ornamented vase, miraculously unscathed, and still seated on the windowsill.
The more he looked at the horrible vase, the more he was surprised he only really noticed it now. Now that it had randomly caught his attention, he observed it from afar, there was a strange pattern of pink flowers and unknown golden symbols glazed against the vase, the symbols were slightly archaic and were reminiscent of Norse runes of giants.
'What an ugly thing' He spoke inwardly to himself, Shoba vaguely remembered his Dad had a weird obsession with Norse runes and mythos. He guessed which was the inspiration for such a purchase.
'Come to think about it, has he ever been to Iceland before?'
Those hazy memories stirred the slumbering sadness in his heart again. Shoba could still hear his mother's fading voice from her final moments.
"Be strong, my beautiful boy."
He wiped away the tears trailing down his cheeks. His thoughts had already begun to lapse into lamentation when a foreign sound suddenly echoed from the dining room.
Shoba lifted his heavy gaze in a slightly curious daze where the emergence of a sizzling popping sound shattered the silence. A convergence of azure lights dazzled across his room, and a pang of fear swelled boldly in his chest.
Against the wall, a blue spark ignited and began to trace anticlockwise, drawing a large oval shape against the thick walls
Startled, Shoba instinctively shuffled back until his back met the firm wall behind him, his gaze slightly narrowed fixated on the phenomenon unfolding before him without blinking.
'Wuwuwuwu'
The sound echoed and a trace of blue formed a mirror-like substance shimmering inside of the space within the oval shape.
Shoba's first thoughts were simple, had his parents come back somehow? was this all a dream and the conductor of this nightmare was just now appearing to wake him up?
His brows narrowed deeper, slowly he started to see a figure emerging from the shimmering liquid portal.
'Tha-thats not Mom...or Dad.' That was his first thought. But something or someone else casually stepped away from the portal
Draped in a multicolored robe, adorned with violet and a range of warm colors, a hooded silhouette made its grand entrance. Standing at 5'11 tall, the creature removed its shawl away from its helm, revealing an enchanting visage to the world.
In all of Shobas life thus far, there were many things he had never seen but was quite aware existed. But somehow, in these sudden moments, everything he ever believed it felt to have shattered into millions of pieces. He remained frozen on his knees, stunned and very much cautiously worried, seeing the sight of this strange being.
Before him stood a strange humanoid creature, with a sharp and regally poised chin, and a youthful oval face. His skin was strikingly a royal blue tint whilst his thin lips were darker like blueberries. Its hair, snow-white, and silk woven, cascading almost ethereally just past its shoulders.
As for its luminous eyes, they shone a striking magenta hue, bearing a cold expression as the fellow locked eyes with him.
What captured Shoba's intrigue the most were the sharply pointed ears, poised elegantly on either side of this alien's face.
"Is that...is that an Elf?" He wondered, staring aimlessly at the blue skinned fellow who appeared from a magic portal in his living room.