Inside of the eyes, looking out of the layers of biological matter that weaved together, forming individual shapes of beauty and species.
There was my own death observing me.
A gaze of familiarity was staring right back at me.
Outwards, observing and looking at me, right over steps and stones, air and branches, it was the abyss of hel and it held my stare.
Like a flickering Orion upon the backdrop of the cold universe it weighed, seized and caught me. Holding my soul as it touched my heart with fingers which for the briefest of moments seemed to hold and cherish my entire life.
I stood there, with a smile upon my lips as the essence of my existence, the thing that was my soul and heart, my bones and muscle mass, my own pathways and gray matter, it was all lumped together and held gently in the fingertips of mistress death herself.
And just like that, it was gone.
On black wings, the moment was whisked away and carried from my dreams back into broad daylight.
Yanking my focus away from this other life.
An endless kiss that still physically lingered against my mind and lips. A weighted presence that was growing with strength and importance inside of me with each passing second.
And yet, the vivid clarity of that other realm lost its luster and faded from my eyes and mind. Becoming both more and less as it was turned into a sketch that changed continually with each new second.
Like pencil brushes, changing with each new stroke but all the old was still there too.
But as I returned to daylight, I knew, that this was something that would always follow me around like the perfect companion, holding my hand all through every clearing, hill, and crevice.
It would fade, change and rework itself in endless ways, but it´s importance and significant truth would never change.
Hel was part of life. And she held my hand.
Until, one day.
When my eyes would once more, look out over the daisies fields. And my fingers running through each of its petals and dewy drops would find her grasp once more, guiding me home to her warm embrace.
The hunter returned.
Like the sweetest lovers embrace and the best of friends that finally came back home from the longest journey ever made.
And I knew that I would drift away on her fields of black and gray, not exactly like this sleep induced decades long dream but perhaps not that different either.
Except that it would be my very own eternal sleep without new good mornings.
I snapped right out of it, there and then, the moment was gone and passed as the day around me returned in full bloom, and as the light of sun hit my synapses once again, my eyes found its focus inside a blurry mist of colors and light and hard to focus shapes.
And as I tried to take in what went on, on the other side of the glass windows that separated the inside of their home from this garden where I stood, silently witnessing the couple making love inside their home, i held out my hand and called by name as my fingers touched the feathered being that poked around, sitting on a branch right next to my shoulders.
How strange of me to use these old Norse names I thought to myself as I witnessed the steamy love making, on the other side of the tall, glass high windows.
Or let us be honest now, they were properly fucking. Naughty, raunchy, steamy hot fucking. And I had no fucking idea what the fuck I was doing right here, standing outside in their garden.
Where Death may rest and butterflies their wings one day will open
“So, how is the new book going baby?”
She asked as she leaned in closer and slowly kissed his neck, our two naughty lovers were back in the kitchen where they had made love a couple of hours earlier. And she had squirmed, erupted, quaked and orgasmed, not once or twice, but a whole bunch of times, over and over as he had pleasured tortured her sensitive clit and nipples, ass and pussy, making her cum just one more time.
Oh my gosh how he had fucked her. And she loved it so incredibly much, the perfect kind of morning sex, mmm. My god, the perfect kind of sex that she could never get enough off, period.
His muscular and well-defined arms and torso propped up on his elbows as he looked down at the screen of their Surface pro book, his eyes smiled a bit as he turned his head just a little bit and sultry soft allowed his lips to catch hers.
“I am not sure. I mean, it is going great, I love the way this story is almost growing all by its own. I write a few words and the next day it has kept on evolving and reaching new places I never thought it would when we started this journey.
It´s as neat reading as it is being privileged to write it.”
He laughed a little at himself.
“But, at the same time, right now, I have no idea where the main opposing characters are. On the inside that is. The boundless frame is here. The individual characters and their expression and language, the vivid feel of the various scenes and how they all have their own voice. The pieces, and the chessboard.
It´s all in the right places.
But not the details. A well, I am loving this journey so it will slowly reveal itself, step by little step.”
‘So, what do you think? are you enjoying it?. You haven’t told me what you think yet.’
“Oh, I love it, You know I do. You are so talented my sexy, hot boy.” She smiled a sensual smile as she replied.
“Reading it is doing things to my mind and fantasy. It is like the story is giving wings to crazy thoughts. You know the way they say our mind changes when we learn new languages and skills.”
“Like how showing empathy creates a bigger skill set of empathy. And just like that, all of a sudden those thoughts, they all seem so natural all of a sudden.
Like a blanket being pulled off the bed in slow motion, and as it flies off the bed, it is revealing with each passing inch something new and utterly fascinating. Yet still hiding something, still tucked beneath the bed covers, and as you look at it, all of a sudden you realize that all that was hidden, it was always there.”
“It´s amazing how proud you make me baby.”
“But, I have to ask, is he really talking to some form of life force?
A god, demon? bat shit crazy spirits, or what is going on there. Or is this some kind of strange mental health issue tale, like that game hellblade perhaps?”
Their lips and tongue touched and tasted each other as he turned around and his fingers and the palm of his hands touched her slow and soft at first on the outside of her pants, before finding their way inside, his strong fingers softly caressing her naked butt and delicate skin,
“Uhm” he let out, “I so love touching your delicious ass girl oh my god.”
“And no, I don’t know.
But soon it will reveal itself to me.”
He whispered, just as his fingers spread her butt cheek inside of her pants and the tip of his fingers with a slow and gentle touch reached her shaved growing wetness, he traced her subtly wet and delicate shape of her clitoris.
His fingers followed the gentle, wet curvature of her swollen, lips and opening as his tongue tasted hers once again.
the Wall that prevailed
far beyond the Castle
of long forgotten indolence
His head was hurting now.
A throbbing pain, and in his eyes, the bright light and mist made the world pulsate between clarity and a foggy mess of objects that were perpetually going in and out of focus.
Why can’t I see, he thought quite puzzled inside the void.
His hands might have been clutched in anger, or so it felt to his body and mind at least, because at this moment he could not even see his own hands.
His fingers, limbs and entire body were lost in a fog of mist and blurry dark moments.
His skin prickled and in his growing rage, it all of a sudden felt like a fever, unlike anything he had ever felt before it now ravaged his mind and body.
On the outside, however, nothing changed.
Nothing moved, not even a drop of sweat rolled down his skin as he sat in dead silence, like a never moving butterfly in front of the altar that was his ceiling high windows. He was the evergreen oak tree, and the sun was the sky he would forever grow towards.
The nurses went on with their days, they changed his clothes, tucked him in at night, checked his health vitals, showered him. Fed him, massaged and rubbed his skin.
Nothing had been spared when it came to assuring that he would always be well taken care of. For, however long, the thread of his life span would keep on ticking.
Would it be the tail of his telomeres that one day could divide no more, or would cancer, or his heart call it quits and once and forever give in?
Perhaps, one day, the flu would take him down the river, painting the sky eternally black and feed him to the headless children, his rotten corpse returned to nature before he ever was allowed to see or move his fingers again.
Perhaps he would never again look up at Orion as it dances beyond the Aurora, turning around the axis that is the sky of countless of planets. Or, could it be that he would one day, open his eyes and move his pale muscles. Stretch his legs out and clasp with strength what was, for now, utterly powerless and dormant fingers.
They thought, or at least hoped that the view in his castle of glass as they called the room he lived in was something that he appreciated.
The nanobots that soared his bloodstream gave them a clear view of his internal activity and health in body and mind.
So they knew that his mind registered what happened on the outside. And that the effect was as good for his soul and mind as it was for his physical health and well-being. They could see the areas of his mind, the activity that responded to the butterflies that gathered in the heat of the invisible waves as they bathed in the sun that reflected and heated the towering sheets of glass.
They could see this and so much more as they continued to care for him. An immobilized shell of non-life on the outside, but full of sprawling life beneath the surface of neatly washed clothes and immaculate skin. So they knew that he was alive and functioning, mental acuity, neurons and gray matter fully alive.
They knew all this, and so much more, but there was, of course, so much that they could not tell, and did not know.
For all our advances, there was just so much we still did not know about the human body and our mind.
So for some reason they had never managed to hear him, neither had he ever, even once, reached out with his mind to move or interact with any of the artificial computer powered puzzles and interactions they tried to entice him with.
Other patients had responded to such experimental treatments at times, a few years ago, they had for the first time ever, managed to allow one patient to mind control another human being 500 miles away through the use of computers and the basics of the world wide web, but not him.
Nothing worked like that, nothing basic, nothing advanced.
Not that they could see.
Not that the local AI could measure and report.
So all that they could see was that his mind and body responded in silence to its private conversation with the natural world outside the castle of glass they had built for him.
But beneath the calm void of silence, deep inside the surface like tranquility, the man was screaming, screaming, screaming.
Inside his world of silence, screams of pure adrenaline, anger and bloodthirsty rage swoshed the waters of the entire world as he smashed his hands against the windows, against his own skull and skin.
Well, inside his mind, that is what he did at least.
Interlude, moments from the Stream.
October 10, 2023, Netherlands.
The towers crumbled, as metal and glass and concrete bowed down to the powers of nature. And before us, the tall skyscrapers took a swan dive back into the Northern sea we all had crawled from.
The walls had fallen, broken down by natures relentless campaign of attrition.
Cars and metal, broken asphalt and rusty pipes washed away as the tides swallowed entire city blocks.
Netherlands joined far away Islands and Denmark, Japan and Florida and a few others, victims of cause and consequence as nature calm and silently collected the debt we had created.
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( or wait for the next chapter to appear here on my ‘Beyond2c’ magazine.)