02 | Lingering Whispers

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[9 years ago - (A/N: this is a dream)]

I tip-toed inside the kitchen. Sneaking a glance from the door, I scuttled inside, careful so as to not get caught by mom.

The plates were clean, stacked next to the sink. The banged-up wooden block, holding kitchen knives and shears, was just beside the sink, atop the counter.

I winced with each crunching step—the floor was noisy, but I refused to get found out by mom—she'd surely reprimand me.

I slowed down, moving with precise and soft steps.

My gaze darted around before it stopped on a shelf. There they were: my favorite strawberry pies.

I crept near the shelf, my mouth watering—maybe even drooling. Near the shelf, I elevated my hand, my feet tip-toed automatically so that I could reach the shelf and have a blissful one-night stand with my sweet strawberry pies, which were tempting me on a silver platter.

(I'm referring to eating 'em whole night, don't get the wrong idea -_-)

There it was! Just inches away from my grasp (in my eyes maybe. In reality, they were what, like, two feet away? I don't remember anymore).

I gulped, my fingers wiggling in a struggle to reach.

But alas, I was too small. This was not meant to be.

No!

My brows knitted. I was determined to have the strawberry pies!

I peered around until my gaze halted on the wooden chairs tucked around a well-used table covered with placemats.

Strutting towards it happily, I hefted one up and walked back towards the shelf.

Putting it down gently, I got on top of it.

I tried to reach the strawberry pies again. But I still had to tip-toe to reach them, just as I was about to touch my strawberry pies, the chair underneath shifted slightly.

My heart leaped out of my throat; I was going to fall!

Panicked, I grabbed whatever was in my proximity.

A sack. Which was probably the worst decision I had made that day.

The chair slipped, but I managed to pull myself—and the chair—with the help of the sack, which was heavy enough to hold our weight.

The chair teetered, but we were safe, for now.

Phew!

I sighed.

Then, much to my fear, the sack slipped slowly.

I paled, this was going to hurt like hell. Probably the gods took mercy upon me as the sack got stuck to a nail on the shelf (it was protruding out).

I was relieved, though the relief was short-lived.

With a heart-wrenching tear, the nail cut the sack and with an air-piercing pop, the sack exploded.

A blast of wheat-colored dust rocked the kitchen, choking the air—and me, making it impossible to see.

I coughed and sputtered as if I was drowning in a cloud of atomized flour. I blinked continuously, trying to clear my eyes as my eyes had taken the brunt of the attack while my body was covered In the flour.

The spiraling puffs of flour coated the kitchen in a thick layer of wheat color.

Hearing the sound of approaching footsteps, I stiffened like a statue.

"Eddie!" My mom, Kiara, bellowed.

"Where are you?" puffing, my sister, Leia, jogged inside the kitchen as well. "What happened- " she stopped as her gaze fell on me.

I turned towards them mechanically and blinked, realizing that I probably looked like a wannabe joker with my face covered in flour.

"Hi?" I waved my hand, forcing a smile in a miserable attempt to change their attention to something else.

I wanted to say something, but a sudden bray of laughter burst out from someone.

My gaze shifted a bit downwards; I eyed Ash—a magma-red bird-ish type of creature who could talk with me mentally, though that was a secret, somehow, she could roar aloud in laughter—frostily.

"Pffft!"

I was going to rebuke her when two bursts of laughter sounded—though they tried to suppress—as well.

I looked at mom and Leia in disbelief.

The three of them laughed so hard that their bodies shook. My sister had to prop her hands on her knees to keep standing.

Mom planted her hands on her hips, releasing two whiffs of flour. "This is not funny, not at all." She stated, her expression forcing a stoic calm.

Though this only made Leia and Ash laugh harder until tears streamed down their cheeks.

"O—M—G" Ash wheezed at me, mentally, as outside she was still laughing her ass off.

"This is gonna be an unforgettable memory." She said.

The laughter continued for a while with me standing there like a statue, too embarrassed to even move.

Not only had I failed at stealing some strawberry pies, but I had also been caught, and what was more, I had been laughed at!

***

(A/N: dream end)

My eyes quivered open, slowly.

I shifted in my position, coughing up some blood: the hit had been more damaging than I'd considered.

Bolting up at the thought, I grimaced in pain.

My back! Ah! My b-back!

I scanned around to see if I was in some sort of danger or not.

Concluding that I was safe for now, I sat down, still looking at the darkened place around me cautiously.

Only a little bit of light was illuminating through the hole above; I couldn't see clearly. The place was indescribable. I wondered what it was.

Looking up, I realized that I couldn't get out: climbing was impossible as there wasn't any place to put my feet on and It was a bit too . . . high.

"Doryu?" I called out to him, inwardly, careful so as not to let out a single sigh.

But then again, the noise of the ground falling here should have alerted everything down here—if something had been here in the first place.

"What happened?" After feeling Doryu's presence, I asked mentally.

Doryu emerged from the darkness, stiffening just as he saw me.

His eyes constricted, and his fur stood up as he waddled backward.

"Dude," He called out, his voice serious.

"Don't smile."—pointing at my face with his paw, he continued—"you look ugly, so don't even try. Your smile looks like you're gonna r*pe a li'l girl and enjoy it to the fullest." He pointed out, his voice filled with nothing but seriousness.

My lips twitched.

I hefted my hand and felt my lips. And yes.

I was . . . smiling? Really? Is this a real smile? Not a fake one? Like the one I usually wear?

(A/N: I know it sounds a bit cringe, but bear with me—I didn't know how else to type it out. Any suggestions on improving dialog?)

I bombarded him with questions and he squinted his eyes.

"Yes, that's a smile. Probably the most genuine I've seen on you." His snout scrunched, "Though God, you look ugly."

He walked up to me. "Did you perhaps—for once—have a nice dream?" he asked.

I nodded, slowly. I didn't remember what I had dreamt of, but I knew that it made me happy, which was a rare thing nowadays, even though I smile a lot, they're mostly practiced.

As if waiting, a whisper echoed in my ears.

~stay alone kid. Trust me, when you're alone, no one can betray you.~

My smile vanished, Anger and hatred flaring inside me—though I repressed it as fast as it emerged.

The whisper continued to repeat what it wanted to say like it always had.

~It's the only way you'll learn. Anyone will betray you, Ed. Anyone.~

Staring at the shadows cast by the light from above, I waited for the whispers of the past to go away; no matter whatever I did to make them go away, they never did.

The memories were buried deep inside, but the whispers remained.

Sometimes, I imagined myself to be like the shadows or the light. A thing without thought, capable of simply being, not thinking, caring, or hurting. Then I could be . . . free.

I shook myself out of my thoughts.

I heard a shuffling noise just a short distance away then something snapped in my view.

I bolted up.

It was the same zombie-like monstrosity.

I shuffled through my pocket and froze. There wasn't Dor in there?? I had some pieces remaining!

My eyes darting around in search of Dor, I found them lying just a few inches away from the Zombie.

What can I do? I'm nothing without Dor! I can fight in close combat but that sh*t's not gonna work on a f*cking Zombie!

I bit my thumb, deep in thought.

"Calm yourself!" Doryu growled at me, inwardly.

"There's still some flakes of Dor inside you, don't let your emotions get the better of you. You're gonna blast your arm or something else—like your family jewels—again like last time." Doryu stated, whispering the last part.

I paled, my flame was a bit unstable—no, scratch that, not a 'bit', it was unstable.

If I had even an ounce of Dor remaining inside my body, my emotions could trigger my flame.

Which in turn would automatically burn Dor as fuel, generating steam, resulting in—sometimes, if not controlled properly—blasting my body parts.

This once, I'd blasted my family jewels and it was not something I wished to experience again.

But, I am strong.

I thought.

That was the irony. The blasting almost didn't hurt anymore, for Alaric's frequent abuses—aka, training—had left me quite resilient, while at the same time teaching me how to push through the pain like a champ.

Bruises and welts mended, that was one thing.

But my spark? Each uncontrolled burst left me more hardened. Stronger. Even more resilient.

But it was still something I didn't enjoy—I wasn't a masochist, thank you very much—so If I could, I tried to evade the uncontrollable bursts whenever possible.

I could heal faster, yes.

But that didn't make it more pleasant.

So . . . I chanted the super secret calm-your-nerves cat technique, vigorously.

Blue cat, red cat, orange cat, green cat. . .

I was interrupted by the zombie as it lunged at me.

I dodged to my right before lofting a kick at its head.

"Doryu! Help me!"

I asked Doryu mentally.

"Nah." He refused, puffing into a white cloud, and then vanished inside me.

"That thing emits the stench of the Eternal Flame's death edict. I'm not taking chances, death's heat is my only weakness and I'm not gonna throw my precious life away; I still have millions of strawberry pies left to taste." He said and quietened down.

F*cking traitor!

My face scrunched, but before I could curse at him, the zombie—showing surprisingly high strength—pushed me away and lunged at me, swiping at my right hand with its nails—which were disgustingly long.

They gleamed a tough and sharp luster before Blood splattered as I grimaced lightly.

I clicked my tongue.

It was just another scar. I was strong enough to deal with it. I'd done so before.

I shook my head, continuing the super secret calm-your-nerves cat technique.

cats are awesome, cats are cool, cats are badass. . .

I continued doing so as I used the remaining Dor inside me to heal my arm.

I jabbed at the zombie's head but it dodged with surprising agility. I clicked my tongue, this wasn't going to work without my spark.

The zombie raised its hand and it flared into a dark-green ectoplasmic hue.

Uh-oh.

The zombie scuttled at me, but I dodged by a smidgen.

I jumped, rolling towards the Dor—which had probably dropped out of my pocket when I fell.

Seeing my situation made me conclude one thing, I should have brought my ring.

I reached the Dor in time.

Reaching for a piece, I hefted it up, bringing it close to my mouth.

But just as I was about to gulp it down, the zombie hit my hand and the Dor skidded away, bolting on the rough, gray-rocky surface.

The Zombie jumped, delivering a lofty kick as if it was a veteran fighter.

"Ugh." I coughed up blood.

Tasting the metallic taste on my lips, I groaned.

Note to self: work on my hand-to-hand combat more!

Skirmishing with the Zombie for a while, I landed a last hit on its face, considering if I should whip out the dagger which lay in a holster on my waist.

But I decided against it and kicked the zombie—who was standing and was just going to strike again—in the groin.

It staggered back.

Capitalizing the chance, I peered around, searching for more pieces, there should be some left here.

It should be around here.

Spotting a familiar red-colored crystal, I jumped toward it, delighted.

Quickly picking it up, I crunched it under my teeth, flaring it just after.

I enjoyed the familiar euphoric, blissful sensation as the powerlessness vanished.

I turned, raising my middle finger at the f*cker before I gave it a bloody sneer.

"Surprise motherf*cker," I muttered, my middle finger brightening up in a glorious lava-red hue.

Then—with a thundering boom—the middle finger exploded and so did the zombie as the blast hit it.

**

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