RWBY: LIFE AND DEATH - CHAPTER 1

I can’t remember how I died, just that I did, and all I can say is… it’s a pretty disorienting feeling… to know something but not being able to fully comprehend it, like knowing the result of a mathematical equation but not knowing how you got said result, it was frustrating to a certain degree… but it was what it was… after all, it wasn’t like knowing how I died was going to help me now, I was dead, and that’s all I needed to know.

Or so I thought.

Right now, I was in a very troubling situation, one could say, something I didn’t know how to deal with, for my status was an unknown to me, at times I would feel alive, but my mind would shake that seemingly impossible thought off, I mean, how could I be alive, if I was dead, that thought was something my brain couldn’t fully comprehend, it felt odd, all I knew was that after I closed my eyes, expecting to find the everlasting darkness that awaited beyond the veil of life, instead I found myself in a dark and cramped environment, something not exactly normal, or at the very least, not something you would expect, that much is certain.

Day by day, I felt trapped, unable to move or talk, in a cage where I could only think, I didn’t feel my arms or legs, meaning the only thing I had was my mind which was the only thing that kept me occupied stopping my slow but sure fall into the pit of madness, perhaps I was in a coma, it sure felt like it at times, and all and all, it was a plausible theory if you consider all, or perhaps… Just perhaps this was my personal hell, a way to pay for my sins whatever they may be, either way, being trapped in a place where you can’t move, talk, hear or see anything is too much for anyone, or at least for me.

But I had to admit…. This prison did wonders to my imagination, being the only tool I had at my disposal to entertain myself, I would imagine all sorts of things, create wondrous worlds to keep myself entertained, but this magnificent tool was slowly but surely getting old, after all, even something so intangible and powerful like imagination can die, if you have no stimulus to keep the flame alive.

And when it eventually did, when my imagination eventually died, when I eventually found myself with nothing but the empty void of darkness, I wanted to die… to truly die in the truest sense of the word, I wanted to stop thinking… I wanted to silence my thoughts… and be at peace. This situation I was in… was not something worth living, I wanted to stop existing once and for all, that grim thought clouded my mind taking over my entire self, becoming my one and only companion, this dark self-harming thought, remained until something in my environment changed, a cataclysmic event, for me, for one day  I heard something… a rhythmic sound that soothed my pain away, one that created a musical melody that brought me joy beyond what I thought possible, and for the first time since I found myself inside this prison, I was happy.

From that point my situation started to improve little by little, and my suicidal thoughts started to die down, some days I would hear muffled sounds and what I assumed were voices outside my prison, and when the everlasting silence decided to come back and haunt me, the rhythmic melody was always there for me, to calm me, to mend my wounds, to protect me from my own mind.

As time passed inside this inescapable prison, yet comfy and welcoming prison I was once again welcomed by another pleasant surprise, as one-day awareness crept up to my arms and legs… I could feel them, and while I could barely move them, it brought me a sense of relief to know I had arms and legs, and that maybe I would soon be able to move once again, maybe this prison was momentary, who knew.

Day by day things continued to get better, I could feel my body getting stronger, and more responsive to my commands, at times I would humor the thought I was a baby, and this prison was nothing but the womb of my possible mother, but this was impossible, I was no Messiah, reincarnation was impossible, right?

One day, as I humored this fantastically absurd thought… Pain surged through me, shocking every corner of my body, forcing upon me a newfound state of panic as my once calming unknown rhythmic sound was now going at Eminem speed, accompanied by a muffled scream filled with pain, and something else, followed by the most painful and creepiest squeezing sensation I have ever felt.

My body was being squished and pushed…  the more the walls in my prison squished me the more pain I felt, and I wondered was this how I was to end, crushed to death? The pain continued until it simply stopped as what I can only describe as a pair of giant hands pulled me out of my prison, and my dark prison turned into a blindingly painful reality.

“Fuck!” I tried to shout, but instead, this is what came out, “WAAAAAAAAA!” I was right?

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One thought kept rolling around in my head as the big shadow carried me. One singular thought. It was all I could think about while everything else was going on around me. WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON?!?

How could I possibly be right? I was no son of God, nor life was a novel with stupid plots where anyone could be resurrected, so why… was I here, why was I alive, and why in the nine worlds I was purring! Babies don’t purr!

“There there my little cub, everything will be okay,” the shadow soothed, her voice seemingly calming my internal turmoil, “Mommy’s is here,”

“How will we name him honey?” A new shadow asked.

“Umber, Umber Khan,” The warm and soothing shadow replied, and if anyone is asking why I say shadow, well… I can’t see shit yet, except for shadows.