Radio Silence...Part 1

I awoke to nearly silent darkness. The only sound was a gurgling, squishing sound that was regular and strangely comforting.

I was floating within a warm, watery cocoon.

For the first time in years I didn’t have to push back against other voices in my own head. I was alone with my own thoughts, as confused and scattered as they were.

“Where am I?” My own voice sounded distant and muffled.

“What is happening?”

I tried to move, but my limbs felt heavy and unresponsive.

“Kenny?!?!”

“Alexa!?!?”

“What the fuck is going on? Someone help me!”

There was nothing but the muffled, water-logged sounds of my own small voice and warm, wet darkness.

Doubt began to eat away at the edges of the small amount sanity that I had left.

“Why am I here?”

“Who am I?”

That last question echoed through the darkness, bounced off the unseen walls and came back at me in endless waves of varied loudness.

“Who am I?”

“Who AM I?”

“WHO am I?”

“WHO AM I?”

“who am i?”

I tried to reach up and cover my ears, but my body refused to respond. I was completely helpless as the echoes grew louder and more insistent, hammering at me from every direction until it built into a constant crescendo of sound and fury.

I answered the questions as loudly as I could. I threw out a new true answer every time the question came bouncing back.

“I AM JASON SMITH!!”

“I AM AGENT RUSTY BONES!”

“I AM A DEAD MAN WALKING!”

“I AM A KILLER!”

“I AM KENNY’S FATHER!”

“I AM A COP!”

“I AM A MAN!”

“I AM…I am…i am…I am I.”
A small dim light grew around the edges of my vision. The darkness began to fade as my body began to feel normal once again.

I was laid out on my back on the floor of the cavern beneath Yggsdrasil. The sound water dripping from the roots above into the pool to my left brought me fully back. Each drop echoing in the cavern like the questions I had been bombarded with.

I was alone.

I sat up and looked at my hands in the dim, diffuse light of the cavern. They looked almost normal. They were very pale, but the flesh seemed real enough. I reached out to touch the floor with my right hand. It was cool, damp and hard. It was…smooth and slick.

I pulled back my hand and brought it up close to my eyes. Rubbing the tips of my fingers together, I felt the friction of skin on skin contact.

I stood up. My legs were stiff, but functional. I reached down with my right hand and felt my stomach. I actually felt the contact on my gut both through my fingers and through the muscles of my torso. I pinched the pale flesh between my thumb and forefinger, hard, and smiled at the pain of it.

“What the hell? Am I alive again?”

No one bothered to reply.

(To be continued on Thursday, July 3, 2008)