The last thing Jack remembered were the howling whispers at the edge of hearing, the vibrating cracks in his vision. He'd tried opening his eyes, and was instantly confused. He blinked once, twice. Can't see. What the hell...? and then cautiously poked himself in the eye. He flinched, but the physical discomfort he felt was overwhelmed in knowing that the creeping suspicion he had became a horrific reality.
He was blind. What was more than that, Jack had trouble feeling the clothes against his skin or the breaths he took. He could hear himself breathing, but it was as if he was listening to himself from underwater. Everything was muffled and distorted, as if his body was just so much static on the radio, desperately hoping to find a stable signal.
The truth of his situation was simple and cruel.There was nothing, and that was what horrified Jack. There was no sound, no light, no warmth, no sign that anything had ever been in this place, or that this place existed at all.
The Abyss.
He closed in on himself and tried to shut out the dark. It crept, tendrils of the void reaching into his soul, the madness searching slowly, surely, for cracks in his mind. Jack wasn't a fool - if he stayed in the Abyss too long, it would end him and all that he had ever been. No songs would be sung, no funeral held, no memories kept, just oblivion
As the man's essence slipped further and further from him, he murmured a short prayer. Jack slipped a silent plea to the universe.
I'm not done yet, damn it.
Jack took several deep breaths in. It's fine. You're a mage, you can find a way out of this. You just have to stay calm. He brought his breath down into himself, trying to center his being. Other mages had returned from the Abyss in one piece, claiming it took focus and peace. There had to be a way out of the Abyss, he just needed a way to find it.
It was about then that Jack realized he couldn't feel his clothes against his skin. "No." The word was quiet and slightly panicked. "No. Oh shit, no." Jack was familiar with the theory of the affects the Abyss on the human body. The senses are stripped away slowly, along with any belongings. Then goes the body; skin and fat, then the gooey bits, followed lastly by bone.
What's echo's is human sentience and the soul, laid bare and naked, clinging together like a pair of lost children. The soul is apparently more vulnerable to The Abyss than the mind, and ceases to exist mere moments after the body has vanished completely. The mind, unable to reconcile the loss of the soul, begins a self-destructive attempt to cease the pain, ultimately grateful for the numbing oblivion the Abyss promises.
The worst part was that if Jack had remained calm, had kept his composure and steeled his resolve to continue existing, he could have found his own way out, back to Earth, back to the remnants of his life. His panic damned him, and Jack raged as the dark stripped him away, howling to ears that could no longer hear. There was no trace of the man who howled into the dark, no footsteps back from whence he came.
In the Abyss, there is only nothing.
Author's Note
EDIT: If you read this fic long ago, There have been some changes in syntax, grammar and content since December. Thank you.
Jack found himself lying on a floor, head ringing and vision blurred. What? What is...? He pushed himself up onto his elbows and looked at the room he'd wound up in. Stone walls. Blue light. Window, very high up. Bed. Where am I? Jack fought back a groan, and did his best to slow his rapidly-beating heart.
Having just undergone total sensory deprivation, Jack wanted nothing more to lay still and let his senses recover, but something wasn't letting him. Something thrummed in Jack's soul, deeper than instinct, more meaningful than reason. It thrummed that resting now would kill him and demanded that Jack get his ass up and do something about it.
With an irritated groan, Jack struggled to his feet. Pain shot through his left leg as it protested movement. I'm hurt. When did...? No. No time now. That could be dealt with later. He had no idea where he was, and that alone could kill him. Pain was transient, death was not.
Jack stumbled to the door, ignoring the pain in his leg. He wrenched the door open and peered outside. Hallway, torches, nobody there. Jack slammed the door shut and leaned against it with both arms, taking some weight off his hurt limb. He had a few moments. A few moments to sit and rest and think before anything else happened.
What had happened? I was back in the city, and then - Jack grimaced, and shook his head in frustration. Can't remember. What in hell is going on? The thrum deepened, bidding for Jack's attention. Jack ignored the call instead and took a deep breath. Just a few moments was all he'd need. Full concentration was necessary for this, otherwise what he planned wouldn't work.
Another breath entered Jack's lungs, and another. As the third one filled his lungs, his consciousness let go of the reins. Years of practice assisted Jack's unspoken will , and he guided his thoughts backwards in time. Jack remembered the thrum demanding his attention. His frustration at not knowing how he got here. His fear, deep and instinctual, just a few moments before that. There was alertness and pain, and the slow, foggy confusion of waking up. And before that...nothing. An insurmountable wall stood in the middle of Jack's memory, barring access to the events prior.
There wasn't time for this. Trying to remember the past could come later, surviving the present couldn't. Alright. Plan. Need a plan. Find out where I am, find somewhere to hide, get out of here. The thrum had demanded his attention, and now Jack was ready to give it. He'd need its help if he was going to get somewhere safe. It was time to move. Checking the window would need to come first. He was in a building, and he needed to know how big it was. Jack turned around to make for the window -
- And immediately cursed himself for not checking the room beforehand. No wonder why the thrum was being so vocal.
As it turned out, there was more to the room than he'd thought. There was assorted furniture, wardrobes and a desk. There were paintings and materials for painting. There was a bed, and an equine creature with wings and horn standing next to it, eyes locked on his. She was crouched in what had to be a battle stance, wings flared and horn glowing dark blue.
Jack backed up to the door, knees bent, ready to bolt if need be. The window couldn't be too high, and he might survive the fall. Jack felt himself grimaced at the thought of this creature fighting. Arial advantage, strong legs, and God knew what that horn could do besides impale him.
He could use magic, but the weakness of the thrum told him there was none to be had.
There was only one chance to avoid conflict.
"Any chance that you speak English?"
Luna started. It spoke! The last thing that Luna expected from the creature was that it could talk.This has gotten much more complicated. Perhaps she should call Celestia? Wait! It was still waiting for some kind of response.
"I didn't understand what you said." Luna said softly, raising slowly from her crouch. She cast a spell as she rose, a sending to Celestia. Her elder sister would know that she was in need, and that gave her the time to concentrate on the being before her. It didn't display any immediate signs of hostility, and besides, Celestia was on her way. Perhaps she could discern its purpose for being in her Royal Bedroom.
She looked into the creature's eyes, looking for a hint of understanding, but there was nothing. She'd just need to try another approach. Luna asked, in the corresponding language, if he spoke Griffon. Again, no response other than a furrowed brow. Well, there were other Languages and there was nothing but time to kill before Celestia arrived.
Except for the two of us. Luna suppressed a shudder, and cast a small contingency spell. Should the being before her turn violent, it would find itself in a locked dungeon beneath the castle.
Hopefully her big sister would know what to do.
Jack crossed his arms, and dug his nails into them. He was in an unknown place, couldn't remember how he got there, and there was a horse-thing in the same room as him who wouldn't be quiet. She'd asked countless questions(or at least they sounded like questions) in just as many different languages(or at least they sounded like different languages).
To make matters worse, Jack could feel her raw magical power. It was impossible to miss. She'd cast a pair of spells a short while ago, and the weight of their resonance left Jack in horrified awe. He had no idea what the spells were supposed to do or what it meant for him, but one thing was clear. If he tried to do anything, be it run or attack or do something magical himself, she could stop him. Easily.
The thrum hated it.
"What about Old Equestrian?"
Jack shook his head again. He didn't understand - "Draconic?" - a word she said, but there wasn't much he could do about it. The thrum seemed to understand - "Moonwhinny?" - the futility of leaving, and it became quieter, fading into the background and beyond the range of Jack's hearing.
"Zebric?"
Jack sighed. "Look, I don't understand, alright?" His inquisitor frowned, though Jack felt that it had little to do with the words, and more to do with the language barrier. "This is going nowhere fast." With a sigh, he glanced out the window. "I could try to jump....?"
His train of thought was interrupted by the sound of hooves on stone and a voice, and even though Jack couldn't understand them, the words were full of majesty and power.
"Lulu? Who is in there? Why did you send for me?"
Author's Note
EDIT: If you read this fic a long time ago, it as you knew it is gone. It's been rewritten. I hope you enjoy the revised edition.
Firstly, Id like to thank Peregrine Caged for being helpful and awesome by proofreading this for me.
Well, I feel like that came along nicely. I'd love for you folks to comment or somethin', but it's not necessary, and I'm grateful you guys read this. If you have any recommendations or observations, let me know.
Until next time.
