The Mirrorverse

Maya

Maya couldn’t move. Her arms were useless slabs of meat at her sides, while her now foggy brain tried to work out what was going on. She tried to move her fingers but they barely twitched. Her head, containing eyelids made of stone, was moulded to the pillow. She could hear a murmuring, something like a cacophony of noise slowly taking shape, growing in a crescendo. It was like the opening of a play, progressing bit by bit, scene by scene.

Why are my eyelids not working? Maya’s drowsy mind pondered this somewhat unusual question before losing the train of thought and starting it again. She focussed on her eyelids, willing them to open. Slowly but surely, they flickered, moved, blinked. Her eyes opened to a sea of white. It was like fog so dense that you couldn’t perceive anything distinct, or indistinct for that matter, mirroring the murky soup in her head.

The confused girl began to come to, coherent thoughts surfacing in her addled mind. Then there was this horrific noise, like a high pitched gruff roaring that filled her ears and soul. It was some time before she realised that it was her screaming.

Now there were other noises. She listened, quiet now, to what could only be footsteps, running footsteps, and something that sounded almost like voices, but not quite. Eyes open wide, she saw a shape appear out of the gloom, then another. She tried to shout Ka, but a strange croak replaced her voice. Blinking hard to try and shift the fog, she watched as people came into a blurry focus. Virtually blind, deaf and paralysed, it was the worst nightmare she had ever had and she needed to wake up. Soon.

Thoughts started racing through her slowly clearing mind, wondering where she was, and why she couldn’t move, why couldn’t she think clearly? Her memory banks were somewhere between depleted and non-existent, she only knew that she needed Ka.

As she attempted to focus on the coloured fuzzy blob leaning over her, she managed to command her eyes to squint, and the fuzzy blob developed a head. A rather large, bald, bespectacled head. It swam in and out of focus as he spoke as if from under water. Maya didn’t know what he was saying, she didn’t know what she wanted to say. The world went black as she drifted back out of consciousness.

* * * * *

It is advancing on me, its glaring orbs penetrating my soul. Almost human, but not quite, with an aura of something animalistic, raw, stupid. It hunches towards me, its white skull gleaming in the moonlight as its boots make oversized tracks in the dirt road. I back off until I hit something not entirely solid, which grunts before letting off a demonic laugh. I step forward too late, it seizes me, throwing me on its shoulder like I weigh nothing, and sets off down the road. My screams make no difference to the ogre, as it joins its counterparts marching purposefully down the makeshift road. We enter a dirt hut, roughly made of straw and branches, yet somehow sturdy. I will myself out of here, dreaming of home as ferociously as I can but only succeeding in making the ground tremble. This startles the stupid creatures, each looking around to find the cause of the vibrations. They make grunting sounds as they touch the mud and branch walls. While they are distracted, I think of running away but I see no means of escape.

Suddenly a loud grunt from the back of the sparsely furnished hut makes everyone stand still. I am offered up to the creature like a sacrificial lamb, and I make no effort to struggle. Something tells me that is not a good idea. I am thrown through the air like a rag doll, my breath catching in my throat at the shock of being air borne. It grins down at me, revealing yellow and brown stumps where there should be teeth. Dental hygiene is clearly under-valued here, I think sardonically as the foul stench of his breath makes me gag.

It laughs as it throws me over its shoulder, marching out the hut and down the road, if you can call it that. Despite my blind terror, I can see that it is a small settlement, with huts of various sizes and states of construction or decay surrounding us as we are swallowed into the interior of the village.

Paralysed with fear, I can neither speak nor breathe properly, my lungs taking in shallow gasps periodically. We arrive at a hut of a much sturdier construction than its counterparts, and I watch in horror as two trees are rolled away revealing a doorway. I am thrown inside unceremoniously and there I lay, face down, with the taste of dirt in my mouth.

“Hello,” said a pleasant baritone voice from behind me, “Can I help you there?”

There are hands on my shoulders, and the world shifts as I find myself sitting up. I am staring at a kindly old face, set amongst long, wild white hair and an equally impressive beard.

I just sit there, staring at him, panting almost to the point of hyperventilation. He puts his hand on my shoulder, saying nothing. Sobbing, I embrace him in a fierce hug. I draw back, realising his cheeks are also wet. I look around me at the perfectly circular room with no furniture, and a hole in the floor at the farthest point from us. It suddenly dawns on me that this is a prison, and the hole is the toilet.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” I just keep repeating, scratching at my face.

“Calm now,” says the man, with a gravelly voice that doesn’t sound like it’s often used, “This won’t do us any good at all. My name is Joe, what is yours?”

“Gotta get us outta here, gotta get us out!” I mutter, gasping and pulling my hair outwards, holding it at angles from my head.

My hysteria is interrupted by the barricade being removed, and the ogre that had brought me in grabs me, and heads back out the door with me slung over his shoulder. I can hear Joe calling after me,

“Don’t fight, you can’t fight them.”

In a few strides, we reach our destination. I look up to see a hut, much the same as the others. It is in reasonable repair, with a large wooden door that the creature kicks open with one swift boot. I gasp as I behold the enormous bed that I am now in the middle of. Without thinking, I bolt to the door, not wanting to find out what fate is in store for me. I barely make it to the door when a hand the size of a shovel, as disproportionate as the feet, clobbers me around the back of my head with enough force to knock me several feet sideways.

My ears ringing, and lying where I landed, it feels like the life has been crushed out of me. I watch the world turn from colour to black and back again in a never ending volley between unconsciousness and being vaguely awake. It picks me up while I am still struggling to breathe, throwing me on the bed. It pins me down with one hand while pulling at its trousers with the other...