Angel's Purgatory

There was a child’s laugh that lingered in his ears. A small boy with dulled grey eyes and nearly colorless blue hair slowly walked down the decline. His hand latched onto a cold, feminine hand as he cautiously descended the sandy slope.

His hand shivered, though both it and the environment was warm; the people were walking down to a small coast. For that specific area, it was sunny, cool, and warm. However, a full view of the area revealed that they were on a large boulder that was the size of an island, surrounded by an endless ocean that chaotically crashed against the rock and with itself. Except for that coastal area, there was also a large, sky-piercing tower and a thick and heavy mist that surrounded the “island”.

There was a voice that was muffled to the boy, the female’s hand let go as she rushed down further than the boy. Another hand, a large, strong, and comforting hand took the boy’s which caused his shivering to cease. The boy didn’t look up at the man, his head was still down as he slowly moved down. Though his head was unmoving, his eyes peaked at the man, but could not see anything except for his short, unshaven, and unorganized black facial hair.

Finally, the two reached the sands. The young child from earlier joyously yelled at the boy, but to his ears, it was muffled and he heard nothing but the ending “l”. The woman, noticing him ignoring the girl, started yelling at him, though she was also muted, her tone was much more aggressive. Again, all that could be heard was the ending “l”.

The man also noticed, but when he spoke it was much calmer and quieter than the two. Though, the boy could still not hear. They continued saying the word over and over, ramping in volume and intensity, until the three said in sync, “Will!”

***

His eyes suddenly flashed open. He was Will, though older—twelve, maybe thirteen—and his eyes and hair were brighter than before as if they were given life. He woke up lying on snow. As he got up, he felt that his body was sore and it ached everywhere. Before long, he realized that he was inside a “room”.

He was inside a cube, and it was made of some foreign substance that was blue and transparent. Will realized that whatever it was, it was keeping the snow out and keeping him warm. Looking outside the cube, at the ferocious hail, snow, and wind that whipped around branches of trees as if it were having a tantrum, he sighed.

Will was glad that he did not have to face the cold, especially in his torn rags, but his body still ached. He started to stretch meticulously and left no parts of his body unmoved. He did it all by instinct without giving it a second thought, and when he was finished he suddenly thought what the hell? Was that me moving?

Though he was still slightly sore, he massaged out a couple of kinks. Then, a thought struck him. Who the hell am I? I don’t remember anything except for my name. . . I don’t even know the faces of those people in that memory, just my name. Will—at least it’d better be my name.

Trying to sort his thoughts, he sighed and walked around the area when he suddenly slipped on something cylindrical; it was soft, yet hard.

He rubbed the back of his head as he slowly opened his eyes. “Ow, what the. . .”

Will looked in horror at what he stepped on, it caused him to unknowingly ease away from it. It was a corpse that was completely flat in the ground as if the killer had wanted the intense snowing to bury it. It wore a completely white jacket and pants which was why he didn’t notice it before.

The corpse was devoid of color, but it could have been recent or old as the frigid temperature could have preserved it. It was most likely a man, but its face was gone; its neck was seared black. Though the snow had mostly covered the corpse, its chest had a giant hole that was nearly filled up with snow, but it was similar to its neck as blackened flesh could be seen just barely peeking out of the snow.

There were no signs of bleeding, it looked like the attack had simultaneously ended its life while searing his flesh from being able to expel its blood.

Will continued backing away until his back bumped into the end of the cube.

The blue, transparent cube started disintegrating slowly, starting from where Will touched it. He hadn’t realized it though, not until a stray branch slammed into the cube causing a sound that made him jump and back away from the cube. Only then did he feel the cold of the snow that was whipping into his back.

With dreadful eyes staring at the corpse and the slowly opening room, he had but one thought. Cold. It’s cold—I’m cold—I feel cold. Color drew away from his face as he could not move his body, could not think anymore. There was a small quaint voice and he assumed that it was coming from his head.

The child’s mind was starting to break.

It started getting louder though. First, it was barely noticeable, but it kept on rising, though it was blocked due to the raging winds that felt as though it was clawing its way to Will.

Slowly, “. . .”

It continued, “—id. . .”

Once more, “—id!”

“Kid!” The yelling voice had struck a bell in Will’s head.

He was awoken from his trance and jittered around in pursuit of the source of the voice. He saw nothing.

“Am I. . .” He chuckled, “am I going crazy? Hearing a voice in my—”

“Kid—” The voice was clear and it most certainly was not in his head.

“Who are you!” Will snapped, “whaddya want from me!”

His voice reflected the fact that he was close to tears. As soon as he spoke though, he continued calmly, as if the thought of having an outburst never crossed his mind.

“Let me rephrase that, where are you.” He was completely calm and serious, though quieter as if he was a new person.

The voice was hesitant for a moment, taking in the sudden shift of personality. After waiting for a while with no answer, Will walked over to the corpse and sported on its jacket and pants as he could no longer bear the cold.

Hesitation could still be heard in its voice, it spoke, “do you see the sword on the ground?”

Its voice was old, ancient, and raspy as though it was on the cusp of death, yet it was unnervingly comforting.

Will looked around, not seeing anything except for a navy cloth that looked like it was covering a sword.

The voice seemed to have noticed his gaze as he said, “pick me up.”

Confused, but listening, Will picked up the cloth and was surprised by its weight or rather, lack thereof. As he unraveled the cloth, he could properly see the sword. It was long, from the tip of the blade to the end of the handle, it looked like it was made of one single material. The actual blade was thin and wide. The guard was unorthodox, it was similar to a cutlass with its circular size, but it did not connect to the pommel of the sword—of which there was none. It cut off not even midway down the grip which was long enough for two hands and short enough for one. A one-and-a-half-handed sword. The guard also had four empty spaces, as if it was allowing the blade to extend out further.

It was beautiful, not because of its design—though that certainly was a good reason—but because of the material. It looked like the entire blade was made of one single metal, a white alloy that was seemingly translucent.

The white color of the blade that both stuck out of and blended in with the snow had brought him back to its weight. It weighed as much as air does.

The voice coughed, snapping Will from his fawning over the blade.

“You must have many questions, I’m sure, but you must be cold. . . you. . . You already took his clothes?”

“Is there an issue with that? I was going to freeze before you were going to say a word to me.”

The voice chuckled in consideration, “I see. No, there are no issues. This is honestly a good change of pace. As I was saying, you must have many questions however, here is not the place to speak, especially with—”

Something following the winds approached Will from behind, but in response, he turned around, facing his palm and mouthing something. Yet nothing came out, not from his silent voice and not from his palm. The object flying toward him was a large branch, easily capable of heavily injuring the regular boy. Will started shivering and panicking with acute hyperventilation. It was as if he had swapped back to the child in the past.

Then, the blade grew brighter and brighter as if tempting, luring Will to use it. “Use me, use me! I will give you unrestricted power if you abuse me, form a contract with me.” Though these words were never spoken, Will could feel the effects of their existence.

Without any further thoughts, his mind calmed and his body steeled as he effortlessly held the blade and sliced the branch in two with one fluid motion.

The attack was so destructive that the snow on the ground flew on the air like an ocean being parted into two, for that moment the wind had calmed and followed the motion of the blade, the grassy ground beneath the snow had a slight divot which had highlighted the existence of the attack.

“Without any more distractions I suppose,” the voice chuckled, adopting a tone that was much more friendly, though still distant, “it is good to meet you, Hero of Light. Now then, let’s talk and—wait what are you—hey!”

Thud!