Darkness.
Yes, that was what she was seeing right now, darkness.
She had been conscious for a while and would have quickly fluttered her eyes open, but her mind felt heavy. She was in the purest bliss.
There was nothing to worry about as long as her eyes were closed. Yes, her entire body ached in a way that was unfamiliar to her. Yes, the surface she laid on was cold and hard and uncomfortable; if she opened her eyes, however, she would have to think. Even though she had just recently woken up, she was already tired of thinking.
But of course, she was thinking right now, wasn’t she? Her curiosity and boredom were besting her.
She opened her eyes and beheld a white marble ceiling hanging far up above.
That was when she realized she had no idea where she was.
Her heart raced at the sudden revelation. Her upper body shot up in fear but lost its balance. She fell back on the surface below with a thud and, wearily, she tried to raise her right hand to clutch her aching head. For some reason, however, she couldn’t move her right hand.
Come to think of it, she couldn’t even feel her right hand.
She twisted her head to the right and eyed her white, long sleeve; she found no right hand sticking out of it.
More than perplexed, she tried to raise her left hand, wrapped in seven colored strands of cloth; it was a struggle, but eventually, her fingers brushed the cotton fabric of her right sleeve. She felt around for the missing appendage.
The sleeve trailed up to above where her elbow would be, as if nothing was wearing it. Her fingers traced her shoulder and the bottom of her upper arm, but as it dragged past her elbow, she felt no forearm, no wrist, and no hand.
The realization hit her like a train.
Her right arm was gone?
…H-Her right arm was gone!
She felt sick, so sick that she was close to vomiting on the spot. She cradled her stomach, trying to calm her insides. Her breathing came out ragged and uneven.
As her heart thrashed in panic, she attempted to move her other limbs. She knew her left arm was intact, so what about her legs? Do they work?
After much testing and bending of her limbs, Noriko determined that they still functioned. Ah, what a relief. She still had her legs and her left arm.
Despite how horrified she was at this unexpected revelation, She attempted to reason with her emotions. She needs to calm down, ease her mind, and think as rationally as she can.
The first thing she should do is stand up. Yes, that’s what she should do; she should stand up and observe her surroundings. She needs to figure out where she is.
She propped her left arm on top of the surface below and lifted her upper body. This time she didn’t lose her balance and quickly surveyed her surroundings to obtain a clearer picture of her location.
The entirety of the room she was inside of was made out of the same white marble; at least, she thinks it’s white. The arched windows adorning the carved walls revealed the night sky plainly. The place was dim, so who knows what color any object truly was.
She looked down to see what she was lying on. She appeared to have awoken on a tall, pure-black slab over three times her size. She guessed the slab to be around 20 feet in length and 10 feet in width.
Was it an altar? It looked like one, but for who was it for? A giant?
She further studied the decorations engraved all over the altar. Ethereal pictures of hearty sugarcane growing by crane-crowded beaches covered the entire slab; it matched the mood of the otherworldly walls she found herself enclosed in.
Well, she might as well step down from this altar. She slowly scooted herself off the supersized slab, taking care so as not to fall over, and placed her two feet on the ground. Strange, she wasn’t wearing any shoes. At least she had tights on; who knows how dirty the floor is?
Glancing to her right, another altar nearly identical to her own laid close by.
A boy rested on top of it.
She clutched her altar to hold her ground, preventing herself from spazzing out and falling in surprise. A light gasp escaped her throat; it was the first sound she had uttered since she had woken up.
Her gasp must have roused the boy, as his eyes squeezed together, and he grimaced and groaned in annoyance. As he groggily rose, she took the time to study the boy’s features: He was of African descent with skin as dark as cocoa, black coiled hair, and a square jaw. Body-wise, he was tall and somewhat muscular. He dressed rather casually and sported a few pins on his navy and white varsity jacket: a black fist, a green carnation, and a thundercloud.
The boy let out a yawn, took one look at her, and scrambled off his altar in a frenzy. “∩oʎ ǝɹɐ llǝɥ ǝɥʇ oɥʍ?!” He clamored with a cautious glare, clutching his altar with one hand and clenching his fist with the other.
She winced at the blaring voice that assaulted her eardrums. What on earth was he saying? “…Sumimasen. Anata no kotoba ga rikai dekimasen. Nihongo wa hanasemasu ka?” She inquired in Japanese. He was speaking a language she could not recall the name of; its name was on the tip of her tongue.
The boy blinked a few times and raised an eyebrow. “Sorry bribs, I don’t speak Chinese. English? Do ya know English?” He emphasized with a confused and frustrated tone.
…Ah! English! Now she understood what he was saying!
Ignoring his offensive comment, she searched through her mind for a response and fished out a name. “…Noriko.” She couldn’t remember her last name for the life of her. She would have to settle with giving her first name for now, even if it made her uncomfortable. “My name is Noriko. Mōshiwakegozaimasen.” She apologized quickly. “I could ask the same for you. Anata no o namae wa? Who are you?”
Noriko’s calm voice relaxed the boy, whose mind raced with a hundred different questions. He knew this girl’s name: Noriko, but who was she? Where even is he? Why is he here?
To get the answers to those questions, he’d have to give this girl a name. “…'Name's Brian.” It worried him how it took him actual effort to recall it; how could he have forgotten his own name?
Brian's fear morphed into anger, and his glare intensified. “But who the hell are you? ‘Ya got somethin’ to do with this?!”
Noriko's gaze fixated out of a window far up the wall to the right of her. “I’m not responsible. I woke up on one of these alters, just like you, as for who I am, I…”
Dread consumed her. Where was Noriko born, and who were the parents that birthed her? How old is she? What was the last thing she remembered?
She searched, and searched, and searched for these answers. Nothing specific came up. She only had logical guesses and vague conclusions. “I do not know,” Noriko answered stiffly, clutching onto her black accordion skirt.
“Wha'd'ya mean you don’t know?!” Brian thundered, anything but pleased by her answer.
Noriko gave Brian a subtle glare of disapproval. “Please, keep your voice down. Losing your temper will get us nowhere.”
“I think I got every right to be pissed considerin’ my situation!” Brian did not lower his voice in the slightest; if anything, he was even louder now.
Noriko reluctantly nodded in agreement. “I suppose you are right, but still; please try to calm yourself." Noriko pleaded. Only when Brian was compliant with her wish did Noriko continue. "Do you remember who you are?”
Silence filled the room…
Brian's shoulder’s tensed up. The expression on his face grew more and more horrified by the second. “…I-I can’t remember anythin’. ‘Only thing I remember's my name-”
“¿H-Hola?”
Noriko and Brian turned to the owner of the new voice. A third altar lay next to Noriko’s altar and across from Brian’s altar. On top of this altar was a soft-eyed scrawny boy. He was clearly of Afro-Latin descent based on his facial features and his language, although his hair was cherrywood red and wavy rather than frizzy. If Noriko and Brian could see the boy’s hands stuffed under his saffron rain-poncho, they would probably be fidgeting furiously. "¿Q-Qué está pasando? ¿Quiénes son ustedes?” While it was clear he was speaking Spanish, his pronunciation made it somewhat difficult for Noriko to translate his words.
Brian glanced at Noriko. He had no idea what the redhead was saying. “‘Ya speak Spanish too?”
“A little. Hold on a second.” She turned her gaze back to the crying soul, giving him a reassuring look. “Saludos. Estás bien. ¿Hablas inglés?”
The boy's quiet whimpering simmered down, and he slowly nodded. “Y-yes. I am speaking English an b-bit. I-I am not good though.”
Brian bit his lip tightly, trying to block the giggles that threatened to escape his throat at the boy’s poor grammar and the heavy Spanish accent. While Noriko also found it a bit amusing, she refused to show it. She wasn't going to make fun of the poor boy.
“That is fine, perfectly fine,” Noriko reassured the boy. “Do you know your name?”
“Ah…Aden? My name is Aden.”
Aden? Perhaps he was multiracial. It would explain his hair and his lighter-than-average skin tone: an orange-clay color. “Nice to meet you Aden. My name is Noriko, and the boy next to me is Brian. Do you remember where you are from, or what you were doing before you got here?”
“…I…”
Aden bit his lip tightly, tears trailing down his cheek as he shook vigorously; the realization terrified him to his very core. “¡Tengo miedo!”
Noriko and Brian stood by as Aden curled up into a ball on the altar; their hearts were heavy and filled with pity for him…
…Another yawn was heard in the distance. Brian and Noriko scanned their surroundings and beheld another altar across from Noriko and next to Brian and Aden. On this altar was a girl around Noriko’s age.
The girl’s hair was strawberry blonde with faded blue streaks, and her skin was a light peach. Her skin was so light in fact that if she were cast in sunlight, she would appear as white as snow. Her slightly curved frame stepped down from her altar, wearing a black bomber jacket with stripes of white, pink, and cerulean.
She stretched her arms and let out a lazy moan. “Qui interrompt ma sieste?” She slurred out in French with a surprisingly sonorous voice.
Noriko also knew a bit of French, and luckily for herself, the new girl was speaking the standard dialect, so she understood her better than she did Aden. “Désolé. Se reposer n'est pas idéal en ce moment. Parlez-vous anglais?”
The new girl opened one of her eyes in confusion before she squealed. Clutching onto the altar behind her, she frantically glanced between the three strangers before her. “Quoi?!I-I’m sorry but who the hell-”
“I’m Brian, she's Noriko, and he’s Aden. We all woke up here and can only remember our names. We got no memories of who we are, or why we’re here.” Brian deadpanned. He wanted to get the explanation over with. “Unless you’re special or somethin’. You remember who you are?”
The girl huffed, seemingly offended. “Of course I do! My name’s Diantha! Diantha…” She trailed off, searching for her last name in her collection of memories, but finding every folder to be empty.
An eerie silence filled the marble room. The only sounds heard were the rustling of tree leaves from outside the walls and Aden’s quiet sobs.
Brian was the one to finally break the ice. “Ok, so what the hell is- Woah! You ‘aight? Your arm…!” Forgetting his question, Brian's eyes sighted Noriko’s loose right sleeve, blood-stained and hanging over the stub of her arm.
“It is…gone, but I seem to be in good health,” Noriko answered reluctantly. Her nausea nearly hit her with full force as she was reminded of her missing arm. Strangely enough, it felt like it was still there sometimes.
“W-what!” Aden gasped. He lifted his tear-stained face from between his legs. “You do not have the arm?”
Diantha also responded to this news with concern. “Are you sure? A missing limb isn’t something to pass off.”
Noriko nodded her head in assurance. “It is not bleeding, at least, it does not appear to be, so I think I will be fine. Do any of you three have injuries?”
Brian, Aden, and Diantha surveyed every inch of their body at the question.
“'Just a bit bruised up. 'Feel like I got cornered n’ murked.” Brian answered simply.
Diantha ran her hand through her hair, touching the medium-sized gash on the upper right part of her forehead. “It hurts like a bitch right here. I feel a bit winded.” She sighed out, staring at the floor in dejection.
Aden's shoulders shrugged. “I feel fine.” He didn't sound too concerned.
The three teens turned to Aden and inspected his face and body. He was definitely not 'fine.' A few large and ugly bruises covered his face and neck, and a couple scars poked out from under his green shorts. Most importantly, something was wrapped around his left eye; bloodstains stuck out under the wrapping.
Diantha cautiously inched towards Aden, who eyed her approach with fearful distrust, he didn’t protest, however, when she carefully cupped his cheek and closely inspected the wrapping. “Is that…duct tape?”
That comment was enough for Noriko and Brian to race over to Aden and see it for themselves. “It is!” Brian muttered; he was completely dumbfounded. “Damn Reddy! Why'd you wrap your eye with duct tape?”
Aden shrugged once again. He shifted his position as he glanced around the wide and spacious room. He was nervous from the attention “…I…I do not know. I do not seem to can rem…I cannot remember why.”
Noriko lifted her hand to her temple, massaging it slowly. “It is going to be a pain, peeling it off. You must have been desperate to have used duct tape…” She commented quietly.
“Are you sure it doesn’t hurt?” Diantha sat down on the altar next to Aden and gave him a concerned frown.
Aden vigorously shook his head. “No, I am fine. It is not bad.” He gave a strained smile to the three.
A friendly smirk spread on Diantha’s face. “Well, we all seem to be hitting it off, despite our situation.” She determined with enthusiasm. “Maybe we shouldn’t focus on ‘whats’ and ‘whys.’ It’d be better to focus on finding help instead.”
Brian grimaced. “Who’s to say we can trust each other though? We don’t know jack about each other.” His retort earned a glare from Diantha.
“Brian is technically right.” Noriko reasoned calmly. “We know nothing about each other, and one of us could likely be behind this stressful situation. However, the disadvantages of being alone are much more numerous than the disadvantages of working as a team. If we work as a group, we’re less susceptible to any dangers we could face. It is best to trust each other for now.”
Brian frowned at Noriko. Those were a lot of big words Brian found to be confusing and, most importantly, absolutely needless. He eventually got what she said though, and glared at the floor, muttering a hesitant ‘aight.’
Diantha clapped her hands together in relief at the group's agreement. “Then I suppose our first goal is to find a way out of this room!”
The four kids observed their surroundings. Besides the four altars surrounding the center of the room, it was rather bare. The intricate designs across the walls and floors were the only things preventing it from feeling so dull and encaging.
However, Diantha’s altar pointed to a large tapestry hanging over the wall, divided in the middle. The patterned curtains covered a hallway; its length was unable to be determined due to the distance. “Well that was hard,” Brian muttered sarcastically.
Noriko paid special attention to the art on the tapestry; a strange…insignia perhaps? Or a symbol? The art was a four-pointed star shape, divided into four sections. Each section contained a different shape and color near the end of the points: a red circle, a blue triangle, a purple square, and a pink diamond.
Whatever the insignia symbolized, she had no idea. Maybe it was some sort of religious symbol she had never seen before?
Noriko trodded through the curtain-covered hallway, pushing the piece of cloth out of the way and disappearing behind it. Brian followed suit, glancing at every corner around him as he too disappeared behind the curtain.
Diantha extended her hand to the anxious Aden, who took it hesitantly. She led him through the curtains as well.
The hallway wasn’t very long, and the four teens soon stopped in front of a pair of staircases. One led down to the left, and one led down to the right. Noriko twirled on her heel; giving an unspoken question to the other three. Which way?
Diantha shrugged and strutted closer towards the staircase. “Am stram gram, Pique et pique et colégram…” She recounted a rhyme as she pointed her finger back and forth between the two staircases.
Eventually, her finger landed on the left staircase. “Pique! I’m going down the left one!” She decided, and she skipped down the stairs. Noriko hurried after her, urging her to slow down so they could stick together.
Brian would have dashed down the stairs after the two girls, but he felt something cling and pull on the end of his sleeve. He twisted to the side and saw Aden staring up at him with unease. “¡E-espere! I cannot keep up…do not leave…por favor.”
Brian gazed at Aden's puppy dog eyes; he couldn't determine what he felt at that moment. Was he feeling pity? This had to be pity, right?
Well, regardless, this pipsqueak couldn't do much harm to him. “Sorry shorty. I'll slow down for ya.”
Aden beamed at Brian; his eyes shining with joy. “¡Gracias!”
Brian didn’t know what the phrase ‘grassy ass’ meant, but he could guess based on the context.
The two boys stepped down the left staircase, following the two girls they woke up with.162Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRxk8j5N8F2
