Naytnal - The awakening (english edition)

She pressed her trembling body tightly against the rock face. Her breathing was rapid, her eyes were filled with tears. Her lips trembled like it was minus 10 degrees.

The screams she heard were loud and clear. But she fervently hoped they wouldn’t find her here. She put a hand in front of her face. If she didn’t see them, maybe they couldn’t see them. But apparently it didn’t work.

The girl, maybe 16 years old, pushed even harder against the wall as the screams grew louder and clearer. The dark roar echoed through the night.

She somehow knew she shouldn’t have run away. She should have faced them, stood her ground against them. But she had no more strength. For too long she fled from them, for too long she hid from them. And now they were about to catch her and then push her through the forbidden window. She couldn’t imagine where she would end up. She didn’t want that either.

“Leave me alone,” the girl whispered tonelessly.

Another scream. Louder than usual this time.

With the last of her strength, the girl pressed herself firmly against the rock face of the gorge she must be in. Suddenly the wall gave way. An opening appeared out of nowhere and the girl was swallowed by the rocks.

The screams stopped. It got darker than night. The girl could no longer see. Only her breathing could be heard.

In the second that followed, the girl groped into emptiness. The rock face seemed to have disappeared. But it was still pitch dark and she didn’t know where she was.

Her breathing slowed down as she felt that she could feel safe.

“Where am I?” she whispered softly.

Suddenly there was a rumble. It sounded like someone was pushing a chair or a table back and forth. She then heard something shatter - probably glass.

Less than two seconds later a small light came on, probably the light of a torch. The girl turned around, startled.

She was in a small cave. It was damp and cold in here. The drops falling from the ceiling of the room conjured up stone patterns. Narrow and elongated, they formed and hung down from the ceiling. Below the structures she saw other patterns, almost mirror-inverted from the ones on the ceiling.

“I knew it,” she suddenly heard a voice.

The girl turned abruptly to where the voice came from. Then she saw a stranger standing next to her, holding a torch. The young man was maybe 18 years old. With an awed look he looked at the girl.

“I knew you were coming,” he said.

The girl looked into his eyes in surprise.

“Where am I?” She wanted to know. “Who are you?”

“There’ll be time for that later, Kitty Linnore,” said the young man. “First of all, it’s important that you’re here.”

“But I don’t even know where I am,” Kitty clarified. “What’s going on here anyway?”

The young man made no move to answer Kitty. He took her by the hand and led her to a corner of the cave where a table with two chairs sat.

“Sit down,” he invited her.

Kitty did as he said, not without taking her eyes off him.

“You ran away from them,” the man stated.

“To who?” Kitty said thoughtfully.

“Never let them find you,” the stranger explained. “Only when you are ready can you fight them.”

“But I don’t want to fight,” Kitty complained. “Who am I supposed to fight? Who are those persecuting me and why are they persecuting me?”

The young man shook his head.

“All in good time, Kitty Linnore,” he said quietly.

And in the next second it was pitch black again. Kitty heard only her own regular breathing, calm and gentle, echoing around the room.

“The demons are looking for you,” she thought she could still hear the stranger’s voice.

But then it got dead quiet.

Suddenly it was like being carried up and floating. Several feet off the ground, she seemed to be gliding in the air. Kitty seemed to call out, but her words went unheard. Kitty sensed she was mute.

Light shone in Kitty’s eyes. She started seeing pictures. These images floated past her like a film. She wasn’t where she thought she was for a long time. She must have ended up somewhere else, somewhere in a desert, somewhere in a steppe, far and lonely. Wind swept over her body. Kitty was powerless. She couldn’t move, couldn’t scream or do anything. Her eyes followed the images she saw as if fascinated.

A dry bush detached itself from the sandy soil and was swept by the wind across the long, lonely road. The man looked after him. Then he took another sip from his water bottle and then put it back in his brown backpack, which he then slung over his shoulder again. Some clouds appeared on the horizon, which could probably indicate a typical, short summer thunderstorm. The man stopped and looked at her. Then he took a deep breath, scratched his beard and kept going. A nice day for hiking, he thought to himself.

A little later a sign was heard rattling. An old highway sign with the inscription “Welcome to Desert End - next stop 55 miles.” So there had to be a small town nearby where the man could perhaps spend the night, because he would certainly be 55 miles to the next stop today can’t do it anymore. The setting sun was looming over the peaks of Monument Valley on the horizon, and the wind was picking up. The man looked around for houses. He didn’t see any, but there was a small dirt track off the country road that probably led to an inn or motel. Exactly what he needed right now - a simple, nice room with a creaky, squeaky bed and a shower. Maybe a small TV in the room so he could catch the latest news before he went to sleep.

Before the man wanted to inspect the dirt road, he sat down on a bench by the side of the road to review all the impressions of the day. He could hear thunder on the horizon. Aha, the approaching thunderstorm is already in full swing back there, he reflected. He took a map out of his pocket, and a felt-tip pen as well. Then he drew on the map the path he managed today.

There was no telling how long the wanderer had been walking, but by the looks of it, it had been days. His clothes were dusty and dirty. His hair appeared greasy and his headband, which featured the American flag, was soaked with sweat from the heat here in the Arizona desert. What madman walks across the desert? But maybe he was on the road with a motorbike and had a breakdown. But because the gas stations, let alone towns around here, are often hundreds of miles apart, one had to consider a multi-day trek to the nearest dump if one didn’t want to wait endless days.

Another thunder that sounded much closer this time. The storm seemed to be coming at great speed. One should be a cloud, the man thought to himself. The sky suddenly darkened abruptly, several flashes of lightning. The man remained seated anyway.

As if spellbound, he looked up at the sky. The clouds suddenly began to circulate. They turned, and faster and faster. A tornado? On a day like this? Another loud thunder. A power line appeared to have been hit nearby; the sound was unmistakable. The clouds now formed a vortex, immensely large, getting closer and closer. Trees were thrown through the air, a car flew through the air.

But instead of ducking for cover, the man just sat there, staring at the sky, frozen, always in the same direction. Suddenly something very strange flew out of the hurricane. It was big, very big. It had wings and had a strange green sheen to it. Its wings beat slowly, almost calmly, as if gliding. The wind couldn’t seem to harm the strange creature at all. It looked dangerous. And creepy. But it was also somehow a fantastic creature, admirable and almost majestic. So the creature landed suddenly. It landed right in front of the man’s eyes.

It reared up in front of him. It looked down at the man with its huge eyes in its head, which looked like those of an ugly snake. It then drooped its wings and exhaled a puff of smoke from its two enormous nostrils. The creature seemed to be some kind of dragon, a cross between a dinosaur and a lizard. His legs were thin, almost small in contrast to his majestic body. The strange creature then lowered its neck until it looked the man squarely in the eyes.

“Make your wish!” It spoke in a deep, fervent sounding voice

“Who are you? What are you?” the man said mechanically, but not trembling with fear. He seemed apathetic, like a puppet without strings.

“Make your wish!” the being repeated fervently. His voice sounded somehow distorted, tinny and echoing at the same time. Much louder than the wind. And strange, oddly strange. “Make your wish! I, Thunderbird, have come from the far reaches of space to offer you world domination. I am almighty Exchange your soul with me and you will receive limitless power, mine limitless power. You become the emperor, the absolute ruler of your planet. make your wish!”

The man still stood there, frozen to a pillar of salt. He seemed almost incapacitated, like a stationary machine with no oil. No doubt the alien entity Thunderbird must have hypnotized the man to a degree no one had ever been hypnotized before, and the force, the power with which Thunderbird did so must have been immense like never before power has never been anywhere in the world. The man had no chance but to give the answer he needed to give.

“I wish to swap my soul for yours,” the man spoke slowly.

“Very well,” Thunderbird roared. “So be it!”

Then he craned his neck in the air. A plume of crimson fire shot out of its large mouth, and it bared its teeth as it blew it out. Then suddenly the hurricane swallowed up the kite and the man, and shortly after that the clouds, the whole storm, disappeared as quickly as it arose.

There was now a mysterious calm on the edge of this long, endless highway.