The Primordials: Death's Fury (Book One)

I couldn’t remember falling asleep that night. The last thing I remembered was lying in bed, pondering over all the experiences I had that day: I found a creepy forest, Tymon’s spirit energy attacked me, went into the said creepy forest, another of Tymon’s abilities attacked my mind, went to Tymon’s home, V showed up with a bombshell of information identifying Greed and said I’d have to defeat an army if I wanted to stop him, and then, just when I thought that was enough for the day Tymon stopped me and asked questions that got me to wonder about my family’s superiority to others seriously.

Now, I was floating in space. Mentally, not physically. For some reason, this was how all my dreams started: me floating in space, staring at Earth.

After a moment, the dream zoomed in toward Earth. When it stopped, the scene was now that of a raging fire that had engulfed everything in its path. The heat I felt radiating from the fire was unreal; imagine standing in front of an oven set to max temperature. Now, imagine someone opening that oven, and all the heat trapped inside it suddenly released towards you. Now, multiply that heat wave times a thousand. That’s what standing there felt like.

In the center of the sea of flames stood a figure whose body seemed to have caught fire. It wasn’t until the figure started walking through the fire towards me that I realized they weren’t caught on fire; they were the source of the fire. As it got closer, the sweat on my skin began to dry as fast as it was produced. My body didn’t even have enough water left in it to form blisters. Instead, it just started flaking and peeling off, layer by layer.

I watched my hands as the heat caused my dried skin to crack, then ignited as it burned away right in front of me. My blood bubbled and evaporated before reaching the ground; my muscles sizzled, then became charred and gave off a sickening aroma. After they started resembling charcoal, my muscles shrunk, exposing the bone underneath them, then broke off.

I suddenly felt nauseous and began to hack. I just watched some of myself be incinerated and didn’t feel any of it.

Why would I dream this? Who the hell dreams of themselves being burnt away like that?

The flaming figure and its unbearable heat were just before me now. Most of my body was either skeletonized or dust at that point, and I knew it was a matter of seconds before I found myself in a different dream.

While waiting, I observed the figure closely and realized there was something familiar about it, like I’d met it before. I tried to touch it with my remaining boned hand, but the dream shifted just before I could make contact.

Now, it was dark. Absolute darkness.

Then, up ahead, I could see a light flickering in the distance.

After making my way to the light, I saw it was the same figure from before, except its fire was more like a candle now. It was trapped inside a semi-round glass cell and sat with its knees curled to its chest. Somehow, I could feel its desires. It wanted to be free, to spread its flames and regain its true glory. Regardless of the heat, I knew it would release; I tried to help it by lifting the latch that kept the glass connected to the metal frames of the cell.

I managed to lift the latch and began to slide the glass open. I noticed that the more I opened the glass, the stronger the figure’s flames became, but before I could open the glass even halfway, two large hands appeared around me and the cell. Deep violet energy released from the palms of the hands and wrapped around me and the figure.

I suddenly felt myself lose strength.

As I sunk to my knees, I felt all spirit and aspiration leave me and instead be replaced with a crushing sense of hopelessness. I watched through empty eyes as the glass closed and relatched itself to the metal frames. The figure inside had returned to its weakened, demoralized state as the hands and cell began to pull away and fade into the darkness.

As the hands drew further away, my strength returned, and I found myself running after them, but they were too far for me to reach and disappeared.

The dream shifted again. This time it displayed a quick succession of scenes.

In the next scene, I saw the same dream I’ve occasionally had since I was 16. My parents were standing together, both smiling with tears in their eyes. Their mouths were moving, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. Then they were engulfed in a bright light. From a distant point of view, there was a giant mushroom cloud, like a nuke had gone off. In the next flash, I stood in a room that looked like a waiting area in some hospital. There were multiple dismembered bodies on the floor, some bent over counters, and some even stuck in walls as if they were thrown there by something very strong. Blood was splattered everywhere, broken lights flickered on and off, and slashed marks were on the walls, the floor, and even halfway through some people’s torsos. It was as if a monster had come in and slaughtered everyone.

A thick, pungent, metallic scent made my stomach turn.

I quickly identified the scent as blood. There was so much of it coming from the bodies, floors, and walls that its smell was now easily discernable.

I looked around at the lifeless eyes of the victims. They all seemed so real but were people I’d never met.

How could I conjure up a nightmare like this? This was the horrific aftermath of a massacre at a hospital of all places.

The following scene wasn’t much better.

A large crumbling building was half sunken into the ground, with lava pooling from the hole. I could see arms desperately waving from multiple windows and hear the victim’s cries as the ceilings in their rooms caved in.

After their screams went silent and their bloody arms went still, I felt my eyes heat with tears.

Why was I dreaming these horrible things? I would never wish anything like this on anyone, so why am I dreaming about it?

As I cried, more scenes flashed, but they were too fast for me to register.

Suddenly, the flashes stopped for a split second, and I saw a weird planet that was split in half before the dream shifted to a white room.

There was nothing in the room except a white sofa, a white lamp, and a white TV mounted on the wall.

Sitting on the sofa was a being that I literally couldn’t describe. It was like invisible wavy matter was there with a humanoid shape.

The figure’s head turned toward me.

“Lisa! You finally made it,” it spoke.

Its voice was neither masculine nor feminine, yet it had subtle hints of both. Just like the voice from earlier...

The figure got up from its seat and walked towards me. It stopped before reaching me and tilted its head. It must’ve seen the bewildered look on my face.

“Sorry it’s been so long. I’ve forgotten humans can’t perceive most forms of energy.”

The figure morphed into a middle-aged woman with long brown hair wearing a long blue dress and a silver jacket. She looked like an aunt.

“If this form is uncomfortable for you, I can become male or whatever you find comfortable. Would you like for me to change,” it asked me. “Oh, and you can call me Viraa....”

The next moment I was abruptly waking up. Without wasting a second, I got out of bed, rushed to the bathroom, and began vomiting into the toilet.

One hell of a way to start my morning.

After five minutes of retching, I went to the sink and brushed my teeth. I thought back on everything I’d dreamt about; the flaming figure, the victims in the hospital, the victims in the crumbling building, my parents...

That was the weirdest and most disturbing dream I’ve ever had, I thought to myself.

Unfortunately, Lisa, those weren’t dreams.

Hearing the voice again caught me off guard, making me accidentally swallow my mouthwash and cough uncontrollably.

After drinking some water and controlling my breathing, the coughing stopped, but now I had a weird sting in my throat.

I sighed heavily.

So, someone is living in my head. Great. It’s not like I didn’t have enough problems as it was.

“It’s Viraa, right,” I asked. I really wanted to freak out, but what would be the point? I just had to figure out what’s going on first.

Correct. Viraa answered.

“I see you stuck with the female form,” I mentioned.

If it makes you more comfortable, I can change to one of your preference.

“No, no, that’s fine. Just, um...who are you exactly? And why are you in my head? Oh, and what did you mean about my dreams not being dreams?”

You will receive the answers you’re looking for in due time. I promise. But for now, I believe breakfast is ready.