Journey to Nowhere

There was darkness. Everything around Blitz was covered in a shroud of black, but all he could think about was why this didn’t bother him. He could see the crumbling surface of the rock in front of him even though no rays of light could possibly reach here.

There was darkness. He could faintly remember his name, but that was about it. His brain refused to give him any further details, although he really tried to convince it to cooperate. That was also strange: thinking was suddenly very hard and all sorts of unclear instincts clouded the rational part of his brain. Blitz wasn’t sure what to do – he was suddenly hungry, but no food item in particular came to mind. He was only certain about one thing: it had to be meat.

With a growl coming from somewhere in his chest, Blitz tried to move the rock in front of him. No lack of air or strength bothered him, which was surprising yet somehow pleasing. The rock refused to move at first, but slowly started slipping backwards once some pebbles fell loose. Finally something cracked and a small landslide started under Blitz’s back. He fell some distance until a pointed-edge rock broke his fall. That should and would have broken anybody else’s bones, but Blitz felt abnormally fine. He even felt sort of comfortable.

After a few minutes rest, when he was sure no big rocks were about to fall, Blitz carefully stood up on the pile of dirt and boulders. It was still dark but that still didn’t bother him. He looked around the small cavern he ended up in and decided on a whim to go left. That caused him to fall off the pile and into a puddle. Blitz got up and took a sip, but that didn’t really change anything – he just felt something cold and wet drop down his chest and that was it. He had expected something more, but couldn’t remember what, so he started following a small stream in hope to find other people: maybe they could tell him what was going on.

The darkness got unto his nerves in a while. He could see perfectly without light, but the tomb-like feeling was really annoying. Plus his feet were completely wet after the first dozen steps. He didn’t remember if he lost his shoes before or after the cave-in: any memory past the last ten or twenty minutes was erased. He just kept walking.

It was hard to say how much time had passed but eventually he saw a light in the distance. He was sure it was from a flickering flame even though he forgot what flames or non-flames even looked like. It all felt surreal: he could see in total darkness but also in the light with the difference being intuitional rather than physical. It was a campfire. The flames burned quite well, so it was recent.

Blitz sat unto a near-by rock and stared into the fire. He was hoping to wait for whoever was here but tired of it soon. He wasn’t tired or thirsty and the hunger was more of a craving than a necessity so he continued walking.

The tunnel or cavern or whatever it was called was pretty straight-forward. There were no forks or significant cracks – only one way in and out. That’s why it was creepy that Blitz didn’t encounter anyone for a long time. Who lighted the campfire then? Maybe it was him? There was no hard evidence against that: after all he did forget everything.

Suddenly a sharp beam of sunlight fell onto his face and he could hear shouting in the distance. The ceiling wasn’t very high, so he could reach the light-filled crack effortlessly. There were definitely people there – their footsteps and conversations were like a orchestra to Blitz’s ears. He could hear everything clearly, even though he suspected he shouldn’t.

“So where’s that smart guy?” asked someone from above the crack.

“Dunno. I haven’t seen him in a while. Should we be looking for him?”

“Probably. Ace is getting impatient.”

“Well get him another beer and tell him to relax, I’m on it.”

“I sort of doubt he’ll be happy about this.”

So is he the smart guy Blitz thought. In that case, why was he still in this catacomb? A smart person would have been out of here ages ago. He decisively started a light jog. It was harder than his muscles remembered what with stiff limbs and uneven footing, but he managed quite well for someone who just survived a cave-in.

Finally, a gush of fresh air reached Blitz. It didn’t seem refreshing, just very different from the cave air. This made him upset – why weren’t his lungs happy about this? He sped up and in only a few seconds made it to the cave entrance.

Blitz looked around and then looked down and then looked down again. Apparently this was a ventilation duct, which ended on the side of a sheer cliff. It was a long way down, although it didn’t scare Blitz as much as it probably used to. He looked at his hands and legs. They say that because of the echo in the mountains, the scream could be heard even near the sea-line beyond the far planes.

Blitz’s body was a jigsaw of scars, dried blood and ripped skin. There was quite a big hole just above his stomach, but the blood had already dried. There was no possible explanation, why Blitz was still alive, so he resorted to the impossible one.

“I’M A ZOMBIE!!!” he yelled to the world in general.

“Oh, pipe down. It’s not the end of the world, now is it? At least you’re not dead! Although there is a difference between alive and undead,” said someone above him.

Blitz looked up to find a relatively young man in a fur overall. The fur was white with blue stripes, which felt very familiar to Blitz. The man was standing above him, in a legitimate entrance to the cave.