Doi Soartă ~ Piece #26

Doi Soartă (Romanian, "Two Fates" is the intended title) is a series of short stories about two immortals that watch over humanity from the beginning of time.
This was an exercise inspired by the song "Whoa Is Me" by Dredg. It was to see if I could accurately portray emotion in physical descriptions.

 

Era: World War II                                                                  Area: Bunker

Arsinoe lifted her head through the daze and confusion, all the soldiers had gone and she was alone for what felt like days hearing only muffled sounds of ammunition going off far above, gun and tank alike. Thick smoke filled even the lowest level of the bunker she was in, the rooms and hallways edged in darkness save for single bare light bulbs shining pale sickly light. A lone soldier was walking down the hallway in front of her coming towards her room, even from far away large red splotches blurred with the strict dust grey uniform they were known for wearing. If he was wounded his gait did not show it, a steady and serious walk that had no acquaintances with stumbling and yet lacked the heartless and rigid mentality of her captors. 

As he got closer it suddenly dawned on her that he was coming for her despite having been watching him, her eyes widened and she began to tremble. The days of shock torture had left her nervous system shot and slow to comprehend or completely unable; as long as she stayed awake they did not care. Preoccupied by fear she did not return to reality until the firm sound of the heel of his boot stopping just before her. It was at that moment she found that the inherent urge to scream and struggle that had become automatic within her was nowhere to be found. Though the trembling remained as she was not able to stop it; having been weakened to her very core since she was denied sleep long years after the first signs of drowsiness hit. 

The scent of blood and gunpowder permeated all of her senses as he stood there in silence for a long moment, his head was slightly lowered, the brim of his hat shielding his eyes from her view. She could not muster the strength to lean forward and try to see his gaze and was not even sure if she wanted to. There were three things immediately apparent when looking at her: she was terribly skinny, her skin was deathly pale, and there were small black bruises here and there - most notably around the constraints at her wrists and ankles although they were clasped. In much the same way she could not muster strength, torn between being very afraid or very relieved, she could not gather words to speak.  

All the same and still without a word, he knelt down and she felt the pressure at both of her ankles disappear one by one and it was not until he stood up and very carefully but very easily snapped the metal restraints around her wrist that she understood he was setting her free. The entire time his face was hidden from her and she scarcely noted that his hair was a jagged mess that reached mid-neck beneath the black military issue hat - not the style of a clean-cut soldier. Furthermore, the blood was coming from the various holes in his uniform, in particular one straight through the right side of his chest and another at his  left hip.

He took a step back and held out his hand, it was familiar. Staring at his hand, Arsinoe finally noticed something was missing. It had become completely silent and by now was unnerving; no shots fired, no explosions, nothing. Not even his voice. The trembling stopped as she made it her resolve that she was going to stand and with extreme difficulty gathered herself to be ready to do so. Her slender fingers wrapped tight around the arms of the chair as her feet touched the frozen floor, a whimper turned into a sob as she tried to push herself off of it. Managing that, she stood a few seconds before collapsing against him, his outstretched arm coming around her protectively.

There was only a moment before noticing the nature of how he held her and looking into his eyes. The familiar garnet iris made her feel safe for the first time in what could easily have been six years, "Iason!" came out cracked, cut short by her lack of voice. He simply stared down into her large blue eyes and the warmth from his body, even his blood that was now staining her wisp of a dress was the most comforting thing she had ever felt. But as she embraced him tightly, she realized there was something very wrong.   

All she could hear from within him was a loud, unintelligible cacophony. His face was expressionless and somber, but behind that was an excruciating pain. An animal that was bound by chains, bleeding and hungry, never to trust another human again. Somewhere in between all of that was one sound that kept repeating itself over and over again, unable to be ignored; a profound and undeniable longing to feel human. The thoughts and feelings were so deep and intertwined that every fiber in her body wanted her to let go of him, shut her eyes, and cover her ears - anything to make them stop. But that infallible giving nature of hers responded to needing to nurture him. 

Suddenly finding strength against him, she raised herself up by the tips of her toes and draped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him down into a long, passionate kiss. At first he did not move, it was as if kissing a soulless statue but eventually he gave way. The cacophony quieted as his arms came around her, replaced with silence and his tears against her skin. She could only imagine the horrors he had faced up until that point and that perhaps, this was the last time.    

She could only think one thing, "We can not do this anymore..." but knew he could not hear it, especially now. She pulled away, "Let's just leave..." escaped more like a whisper. He stood rigid, unmoving, "After what they did to you...?" never mind that he had a hole in his chest. She met his question with silence, he continued. "Are you so sympathetic for these creatures that you would just walk away? Forgive them? Would you rather they tear us apart entirely?!" With each new question he seethed even more and his tone had become more of a growl than that of taking part in a civilized discussion.

She was going to continue to be silent if it were not for the alarming and incessant shrieking from within him. No longer a confused and tortured sound, it was a very certain and enraged emotion that took over the entirety of his being. This was more terrifying than anything any human had ever done to her. Her fingers gripped tightly at the arms of his uniform and she began trembling again, "Please..." was a breathy prayer. "You cannot..." a prayer that would reach no deity and certainly not him. He curled his hands around hers and pried them off of him. Taking a step back he turned and began walking away. "Iason...!" she stepped forward and tried to reach out to grab him, but just as she was about to there was only air and he was halfway down the hall. He continued walking again and lowered his head as he heard the cold slap of her hands against the floor.

The End

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