The RealmStep: Soul Assassin Ch. 3-4

CHAPTER III: Questions???

  Her last words cut into my psyche like a serrated knife.

  You...

  Are…

  A soul.

      “A soul?” I ask, more to myself than to my green-clad companion.
      “Yeah…you’re dead as far as the physical is concerned.  Welcome to Abissir Mael—‘Interchange of the Souls’.

  Her revelation affirmed what I already believed; better yet, knew to be true.  I had died that fateful night and worst than that, so did my family.  My whole family: my pops, moms, brother, and little sister—they all died that night—murdered by those…those “things” that we could’nt protect ourselves from…that I couldn’t protect us from.  All that had happened wasn’t just some nightmarish dream that happened to keep reoccurring, it was the truth and the truth had just been confirmed regardless of what I wanted to believe.  Confirmed by this buxom, femme fatale’ who says she’s my ‘Receiver’—whatever that is.  I looked into her face, dazed by her words and watched her lips spread into a smile as if to say that this Abissir Mael was something to welcome…to be happy about.  At this thought, I felt my confusion turn into doubt.  My doubt transform into disbelief.  My disbelief changes into an understanding and finally that understanding mutate into an anger I never knew could exist.  To even refer to this emotion as simple anger was not fulfilling for it was much more savage than that; almost primitive.  A hunger for an unexplainable nourishment grew inside of me so profound that I could literally feel whatever it was emanate from me like a putrid odor.  Whatever it was, it was aimed at Renee’ and I was losing control of it fast.

      “It was you, wasn’t it?!” I screamed, rushing toward her with such speed that it even amazed me.  Revenge was on my mind.  Murder.  Nothing else.  There was no courtyard, no colored pillars, no kaleidoscopic sky, no dense forest—only this green apparition in my vision.

  I leapt into the air expecting to feel my muscles tighten from the effort, but there was no resistance.  I felt ready to perform actions I didn’t know I was capable of.  In the air, my body moved into position for an awkward ‘russian-cycle’ and I saw Renee’s eyes brighten in alarm at the sight of my attack.  Immediately, those ‘hazel almonds’ transformed into narrow slits of age-old determination—seasoned, knowing the hardships of battle—and she extended her walking staff horizontally with both hands and began to twirl it in a clockwise motion.  The numerous burls along it’s gnarled body began to glow a piercing green which blurred together into one chlorophyllic field.  At that instant, I reached the spot  where Renee’ stood and she leapt back effortlessly; leaving the emerald-light field floating intact where it formed.  I slammed into the lingering phosphorescence and it wrapped around me like a fly caught in a spider’s web.  I dropped to the ground, struggling against the uncanny amniotic sack as it grew tighter and tighter.  Realizing that my efforts were futile, I stopped struggling and gazed up towards the courtyard’s ‘ceiling’ relishing in the instant comfort it brought.  The various colors continued to shift and blend as if mocking me for attacking this arachnid-like predator; this “green”, black-widow.  Wondering where she’d disappeared, my eye’s darted around the courtyard.  Finally, they found her sitting atop her crook, legs crossed, with that same arrogant smirk on her face.  Mysteriously, the staff was standing upright without any visible support.  Stroking her braid, which hung almost to the bottom of the crook, with her right hand, we gazed at each other for a long moment.
      “Well…,” she started, finally breaking the silent standoff, “that really wasn’t called for, but I think I understand now why you’re called the ‘special one’.  You’re a ‘Torment’.”

  I didn’t answer, just stared at her with a gaze that would’ve turned Medusa herself into stone.  Feeling the anger (hunger) course through me like poison in my veins once again, I began to struggle against the sack.  “Lemme’ outta’ dis’ shit!!” I yelled demandingly.
      “That’s where we have a problem…I can’t,” she explained, “As long as you harbor evil intentions towards me, the snare will continue to exist.”  She leapt off the staff in a free-air, forward flip and landed firmly on her feet near where I lay.  Without taking her gaze off of me, she extended her arm toward the crook and it flew obediently to her hand as if beckoned like a faithful pet.  I stared up at her with hatred from my prone position.  She still had that same conniving smile pasted on her face.  “Why’d you attack me?” she asked.
      “Because you’re a murderer,” I stated plainly.  “You helped slaughter my family.  You know everyting else bout’ me, how come you don’t know dat’?”
      “I only know what I need to know.  Things that don’t pertain to my job, does not pertain to me.”
      “So you don’t know your compadre, “Mr. Bird-Man Bust” then?”
      “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”  Her expression turned serious.  “I’m not who you think I am.  I am simply your Receiver, like I told you.  I had nothing to do with your family being murdered.”
      “And why should I believe you?!” I screamed, beginning to feel the anger pulsate again.  Instantaneously, the green sack began to constrict around my body.  I tried to bellow out in pain, but it’s as if my voice had been stripped away due to the tightening of Renee’s wicked magic.  Instead, I just whimpered and whined like a beaten puppy.
      “Because I could’ve done more than restrain you when you attacked,” she replied.  “I have no reason to harm you…it’s not my job.  My job is to lead you to Arret Gaiea safe and sound and that’s what I’m going to do.”

  As reluctant as I was feeling, her answer made sense.  The powerful ‘hunger’ which it seemed I had thrived off of for so long began to dissipate.  The ‘snare’, as she called it, began to loosen.  I felt my chest expand (was it air?) again.  “Then why am I here?” I asked in the calmest voice I could summon.
      “Like I said, before you decided that I was Lucifer himself,” the restraining sack flickered away from around my body and Renee’ grabbed me under my arm to help me up, “this is where all souls come when they ‘move on’.”  She took a few steps away from me while I regained my composure.  Her serene beauty had returned and I felt myself calm more at the sight of being her presence.
      “Wise choice, cutie,” Renee’ said.  “I you hadn’t let the anger go, the snare would’ve eventually destroyed you.”
      “Thanks,” I said sarcastically, dusting myself off.  The anger which had pulsated through me only moments before like a vortex was now replaced with embarrassment from being bested by this woman who appeared weak in nature, but obviously possessed powers I couldn’t even begin to fathom.  Remembering the pain that the power caused, I thought of my family and got back to the matter at hand.  “So what’s all dis’ about den’?”
      “Well…by you attacking me like a maniac…I’m taking a guess that you’re a Torment—a soul exiting Limbo who died by horrible and mysterious means.  Am I correct?”
      “I don’t know bout’ the ‘Limbo’ part, but yeah’, I died by horrible and mysterious means…I guess,” I responded.
      “O.k., like I told you, I’m a Receiver—an angel of the Spirit Plane whose job it is to lead souls from Abissir Mael to Arret Gaiea.”
      “Whoa!  Slow down,” I interrupted, “From where to where?”
      “Alright, let me try it this way…”

  With her staff, Renee’ begins to move her arm in a circular motion as if writing.  Amazingly, a green outline of a circle of light appeared.  She then drew another circle overlapping the first.  In the center, where the two circles intersected, she made a rectangle.  Pointing to the circle on the left, she wrote a big “G” in it’s center.  In the circle on the right, she drew a big “A.G.” and in the rectangle she wrote “A.M.”.

      “This circle represents ‘Gaia’,” she said pointing to the one with the “G” in it, “or as you would understand it, the ‘Earthen Plane’—that of physical existence.  This circle here,” pointing to the one on the right, “represents ‘Arret Gaiea’ or the ‘Spirit Plane’—that of metaphysical existence.”  She moves her staff over to the “A.M.”.  “This area is called ‘Abissir Mael’ or ‘Perdition’s Square’ and the area surrounding it,” she motioned with her crook the space where the two circles overlapped, “is ‘Limbo’ or the ‘Realm of Wandering’.”  Returning her staff back to the rectangle, “This is where we are now—the ‘Interchange of the Souls’—like I told you earlier.  Got all that?”
      “I think so,” I said, “Go on.”
      “Souls exit Gaia by one of two ways,” Renee’ continued, “either by coming straight to Abissir Mael or by going through Limbo and then coming to Abissir Mael.  The souls we call ‘Torments’ are the ones who take the latter route.  Because of the wrath you harbor, I figure that you hail from there.”
      “And now…according to tour diagram,” I queried, “we must leave from here…,” I said, pointing at the “A.M.”, “…and go to the “A.G.”?”
      “Right,” Renee’ answered, waving her hand before the configuration.  It disappeared like fog caught in a brisk wind.  “But we’ve got to go through Limbo to get there and we need to make haste, cutie.  We’ve wasted too much time already and I told you it’s not safe here.”  She grabbed me by my arm and began to lead me toward the right side of the courtyard; from where she mysteriously appeared.  I fell behind her obediently.
      “I’m confused now,” I express, bewildered as we approached the edge of the black, dense forest.  The closer we got, the more I realized that it wasn’t just the lack of light which made the forest dark, the complicated name of the Spirit Plane.
      “Good question, cutie,” she said admonishingly, “But unfortunately, I’m not equipped with the knowledge to answer that.”
      “But the rectangle and ‘A.G.’ touched.  Why can’t we just go straight there and bypass this Limbo?”
      “Because of the ‘Gaieanic Rift’.”
      “The what?” I asked, frustrated with her so-called explanations.
      “The ‘Rift’—a sort of barrier which separates Arret Gaiea from other planes.  It can only be crossed by going through Limbo.  Where the square and Arret Gaiea meet is impassable.  Make sense?”

  We crossed the border of the courtyard, into the forest, and I felt the darkness engulf me like the ocean over a submerging submarine.  Actually, that’s exactly how I felt…like I was drowning…sinking…in a dark abyss.
      “Yeah, it makes sense,” I respond.  “Annoying…but it makes sense.”

CHAPTER IV: The Darkentree

  The trees along the border of the courtyard seemed to contain no life in them at all.  The black sentinels loomed over Renee’ and I like an impending disease which couldn’t wait to take root and I, unlike my companion, couldn’t control my apprehension.  There was an unmistakable familiarity these woods had with the woods my friend and I found ourselves moving through on that fateful night.  Funny how that’s how I had come to remember the night of my passing—as that “fateful night”.  Nothing else plagues my memory as much as it does.

  With my apprehension on full blast, my awareness had peaked to where nothing went unnoticed.  The few leaves of the dismal trees were black to the core—like one’s forgotten memories jotted down on paper which had caught afire in a wooden shack soaked with gasoline—seeming to swallow all light.  Even the undulating glow of Renee’s gown didn’t shine as bright in this deciduous abyss.  I tripped over a root jutting out of the ground along the path Renee’ followed and I nearly loss my balance, running a few steps to regain it.  That’s when I noticed, to my surprise, that I could feel the ground.  I looked down at the ground and saw that my feet (and body) had solidified and (although it had been returned now that I thought about it) my familiar wobble which I had found absent in the courtyard was functioning once again.  The ground’s surface had changed from the “cloud-turf” of Perdition’s Square to one of jet-black soil, covered in small plant growth, roots, and twigs.  I paused, bewildered for a moment, but felt that this wasn’t the time to ask and quickened my pace to catch up with my distancing guide.

  Through the cryptic ambience of the nubianic forest, I hung close to Renee’s coattails longing for a change in scenery.  We had traveled, not in complete silence, for what seemed like a half an hour (although my sense of time didn’t actually feel like a sense anymore) along the vaguely demarcated trail; she only speaking with an occasional, “Watch out for this…” or “Watch out for that…,” and I with an simple “O.k.,” or “A’ight.”  The forest was void of all life it seemed.  There were no rumblings of leaves being moved by small animals scurrying away in haste at your approach; no buzzing wings of insects making their nocturnal journeys in search of (or to become) food; none of the natural noises of the great outdoors…just silence and to add to the dismal atmosphere, Renee’s flirtatious, good-natured behavior had been replaced with one that was withdrawn, distant, and cold.  Her face held the same countenance it possessed when I’d attacked her earlier and she continued to scan our surroundings as if we were being hunted.  To my relief, we suddenly came upon a stream which cut perpendicular to our path and amazingly, the same mysterious liquids I witnessed on the pillars in Perdition’s Square flowed along it’s meandering channel.  Even more amazing, each of the colored liquids flowed separately in the stream—independently.  I gazed in wonder at it’s beauty alongside Renee’ at the stream’s bank.

      “Must be different viscosity levels,” I said in a whisper to myself, not realizing that I had spoken out aloud.
      “What?”
      “Huh?  Oh, nothing,” I said suddenly snatched out of my thoughts by her voice.  “I was talking bout’ da’ colored water—that it must be different viscosity levels which keep them separated like dat’.  Something I learned in school.”
      “Oh,” Renee’ said nonchalantly.
      “What is it anyway?”

  She turned to face me with an annoyed, distracted look and I felt suddenly juvenile under her gaze.  At first, I thought she wasn’t going to answer, but then her gaze softened and she moved to stand closer to me.
      “Sustenance—‘Tears of the Ancients.  It’s what helps sustain the existence of Abissir Mael in Limbo.”
      “Dat’s all?”  I asked, wanting to hear more about the beautiful waters.  I knew they had to serve more of a purpose than sustaining a realm as meager in importance like Perdition’s Square to be flowing as streams throughout nature.
      “No,” she says as she turned to face the woods in the direction from which we had just came; scanning as if looking for something.  “It serves other purposes which you’ll learn of once you reach your destination.  Right now, I need to speak with you about more pressing information.”
      “Like?”  I asked condescendingly, wondering why she had not already spoken on it if the information was so “pressing”.
      “Like…,” Renee’ said mocking my tone, “explaining to you about the danger of the area we’re in now.  This is the ‘Limbotic Temperate Forest.”
      “Limbotic?  As in Limbo?”  I spat out quickly, having come up with the questions from using my ‘big brain’.  “But that would mean that we’re in Limbo already.”  I looked around at my surroundings as if seeing them for the first time.
      “Yes, cutie,” Renee’ said brightly, “You are so smart!”
      “But…,” I began, ignoring my guide’s sarcastic remark, but she continued on with what she was saying.
      “We entered Limbo as soon as we crossed the perimeter of the courtyard.  The forest surrounds Abissir Mael on all sides and is divided into two parts: the Limbotic Tropical and the Limbotic Temperate; the latter being where we are now.”
      “So what dangers are you talking bout’?  I don’t remember seeing anything resembling bein’ alive when we entered the forest.”
      “First, there is nothing alive on this side of the scheme, cutie,” she began in an authoritative manner, “None of the laws which you have gotten use to in Gaia apply here—well…not none—but most.  Limbo is the realm of the ‘amrak-feeders’—parasitic vermin who thrive off of another being’s amrak.  There are many types, but with only three: Snatchers, Residuals, and Wanderers.  These last being the most dangerous.”
      “And they feed off of amrak?  I suppose I got it for them to get,” I remarked facetiously.
      “Of course,” Renee’ answered plainly.  Either she didn’t catch the tone of my remark or didn’t care.  “Everything consists of amrak, even in Gaia.  It’s the substance of existence, holding it’s fabric intact along with all things.  I believe…in Gaia, they call it ‘aura’.  In Limbo, some things “exist” because of a need of amrak and wayfaring souls, such as ourselves, are their greatest prey.”
      “So why haven’t we seen anything yet?  Are they invisible?”  I asked suddenly alarmed, searching our surroundings.  Over to my right, in the midst of the charred-like leaves of the black trees, I thought I saw something move…but disregarded it as a hallucination from the paranaoia Renee’ had created by the telling of her “amrak-feeder” tale.
      “No, they can be seen.  I figure they don’t show themselves because of my presence.  They know what I am.  Don’t be fooled…they’ll still try and make a move.”
      “A’ight,” I said, “You’ve got my full attention.”
      “Good,” said Renee’, “But first, let’s rest while I speak.  To make our surroundings a little more comfortable, I’ll use a little amrak to dispel some of this darkness.”

  She turned her back towards me and I found one of the dark trees near the bank of the stream and took a seat at it’s base.  She slammed her crook into the black soil a few feet away from the bank and began to twist it back and forth as if trying to start a fire.
      “Being that I’ve already given you the first rule of dealings while on this side of reality,” she began while still performing her ritual, “I’ll give you the second most important thing to remember—take nothing at face value, especially here in Limbo.  The amrak-feeders use deception as their weapon, very crafty tricks to lure and capture you.  If it doesn’t fit into the picture, simply ignore it and you’ll survive longer.”

*******

  I continued to listen to her instructions, but somehow her voice seemed to grow distant as if she were speaking to me through a long sewer pipe.  A feeling of euphoric disorientation overcame me and my senses abruptly became strangled like they had forgotten how to perform their duty.  My vision became blurry and then dark.  I watched as everything around me began to fade away into blackness like progressing cataracts.  Anxiety swept my whole being as I tried to summon the effort to scream to get Renée’s attention.  Nothing happened.  I watched Renée, still with her back towards me, continue with her performance, as the sight of her body dissipated into the dark oblivion…

*******

  Once Renée’ finished her séanic incantations and mysterious hand gestures, a pale-green light blazed from, and around, her staff seeming to light the particles of air molecules on fire themselves.  The area of the clearing, with the crook at it’s center, began to shine brightly; casting light on all of it’s surroundings though along the edge of the lights range, the illumination seemed to be swallowed by the darkness of the forest.  Content with her conjuration, Renée took a few steps backward to further continue in admiration of her work when she suddenly realized that she hadn’t heard her charge’s voice in a while.  She whirled around to face me and a range of emotions from shock to fear crowded her face as she grasped my situation.  The black tree that I’d taken the liberty of leaning against had begun to consume me—literally.  All of my body had been covered in the weird, black bark of the tree except for my torso and legs…which I kicked frantically trying to scramble from it’s grasp.

  Running at full speed, Renée threw her hands out before her and two blazing balls of green light shot out of them and exploded against the tree not far above my head.  The creeping, wooden flesh retreated a little on my body and the tree…creature…whatever it was, seemed to wail in pain.  Renée came to a sliding halt not even 3 ½ feet from where my feet lay kicking and released another of the green projectiles at the wooden parasite with her right hand while with the other, she reached out behind her and summoned her staff.  It flew out of the center of the clearing’s green fire into her hand and she immediately began to strike the wooden mass of the tree with powerful blows.  She moved to flank the creature on the left, and a long branch with the charred-like leaves swung low to strike her but immediately exploded into splinters with a blast of the green fire from Renée’s right hand.  Another branch swung to strike and she flipped backwards out of it’s way.  Using her staff like a pole-vault, she instantaneously sprung toward the tree, flailing fireballs at it’s torso.  The long plait which adorned her head, began to unravel into three long, whip-like extensions—each equipped with the dagger-like energy weapons at it’s end—and begun to twirl above her head in a helicopter blade-like motion slicing through the frenzy of tree branches which had formed a thick barricade around my body.  With the three braids guarding her against the attacks of the branches, she landed on the ground and continued to deliver blows to the body of the tree with her crook.  Flashes of green light sprang from the contact of each hit.  As if by instinct, Renée leaped into the air just as numerous root-like projectiles shot forth from the ground aiming to impale her.  The braids quickly sliced through them as she released a number of the powerful green blasts from her hand which blew chunks of the wooden flesh from the tree’s torso.  Twirling her staff like a seasoned majorette, she paused for a brief moment, which actually seemed like an eternity, with her staff held out before her like a rapier in a fencing-parrying stance.  As if summoning a forgotten strength, her almond eyes began to grow a fiery green and the undulating green of her dress flared to an intimidating green intensity.  Streams of green light—the largest coming from her eyes—tentacled from her body, reaching out into the depths of the Limbotic Temperate.  The reverberations from this power made the abysmal trees lining the perimeter of the clearing sway as if they were caught in the turbulence of a hurricane.  Emblazoned in a massive, green conflagration, Renée held the visage of the angel she claimed to be as the streams of pulsating green light returned from the depths of the forest and engulfed her staff.  The branches and root projectiles of the tree-beast continued to strikeout against her as it’s parasitic bark continued to assimilate my body, but the power she emitted made sure that they posed no threat.  The light, winding around her crook like writhing serpents, seemed to pool into the knots of the gnarled wood until the staff—in it’s entirety—glowed with the ferocity of the green power.  In one single, fluid-like motion, she thrusted the crook into the bulky, wooden mass of the tree, impaling it all the way through to it’s other side.  Instantly, the wooden javelin flared into billions of rays of piercing green light, obviously causing discomfort in the monstrosity for the progressing black bark of the parasite began to recede along my body and the whole tree itself began to tremble and shake.  All at once, the assimilating force released me and then exploded as I made an attempt to scramble away on the ground toward the safety of Renée.  The force of the explosion knocked my body to the other side of the clearing into another of the dark trees.  In fear of reliving the ordeal, I quickly got to my feet and ran to where Renée stood.  Amazingly, not out of breath, I collapsed at her feet.

      “Are you alright?” Renée asked not taking her eyes off of the black mass even though it obviously posed no more of a threat.  The upper-most part of the tree lay in large pieces and chunks and some of the wooden flesh had landed in the stream and became pieces of flotsam, obstructing the natural flow of the rainbow waters.  The base, where I been entrapped, sat shattered along the bank as if some enormous, dormant creature (which the tree couldn’t contain) suddenly awoke and decided to escape.  Long, slender slivers of the dark bark spiraled into the air from where it had been ripped from it’s upper torso making the base of the tree look like a hand from some horrific demon reaching up from the depth’s of hell.  In the “palm” of it’s hand, lay Renée’s staff still glowing it’s brilliant green.
      “What the hell was dat’ thing?!” I asked, struggling to get to my feet.  Renée, satisfied that the tree was no longer a danger, reached her hand down to assist me while she used the other to retrieve her crook in that mystical way she’d so commonly used.  I grabbed her arm obligingly and steadied myself onto my feet.
      “That, cutie, is a ‘Darkentree’.  I don’t know much about them other than they snatch wayfaring souls who carelessly use them to lean against or nap under; hence the nickname ‘Snatchers’.  I should’ve warned you.”

  I glanced around the clearing at all the darkly-clad trees along it’s edge and became disturbed to think that these things had been around us for some time.
      “Are all dese’ trees darkentrees?” I asked.  “Have we been walking all dis’ time through dese’ monsters and you didn’t tell me?!”
      “Believe me, cutie…I do feel bad and for that, I apologize,” she said in a soothing manner which washed all my anger quickly away.  “I’ve been preoccupied with other thoughts ever since we entered into the Tenperate and forgot to warn you, especially being that those nearest the courtyard are not kown to act in that manner.  There’s another type of tree called a ‘Veseltree’ which we’ll be coming upon soon.  They’re harmless, but darkentrees are sparsely populated around them.  Those are usually the ones that are dangerous, not these that lay closer to Abissir Mael.  Something’s wrong.”  She ponders for a moment.  “That is why I didn’t tell you because I felt I had time to warn you of them.  Limbo has changed and I can’t figure out why.”
      “What do you mean “changed”?” I asked.  “Changed how?”

  Renée turned to face me—the cold, distant look she had held so often since entering Limbo was once again plastered on her face.  I couldn’t help but think that she suffered from a multiple personality disorder being that the person who stood before me differed so greatly from the person I had met in the courtyard.
      “Limbo has changed,” she repeated, “For starters, we should’ve made it through Limbo by now, at least coming upon it’s other side.  The Stream Of Ancient Tears,” she said pointing to the flowing, colored waters, “lies near the edge of Abissir Mael and now this episode with the darkentree.  I think Limbo is growing; expanding somehow and I can’t figure out why.  That’s what I’ve been thinking about since we entered the Temperate.  It’s like something doesn’t want us to leave.”

  If only we knew what that something was, I thought.