The desolate world of white began to fade away like smoke before his eyes. Drifting away like a dream, the pristine horizon cracked like ash and turned tarnished and gray. Particles of this melancholy place float away on some unseen wind. The further William ran in this now disintegrated world, the more the darkness encroached. It was as if this darkness had its breath, its heartbeat as it surged and flowed. Like a wolf chasing its prey in the night.
Soon the man found himself running in pitch-black darkness, his legs ached and his chest burned, but he didn't care. He was certain that if he kept going he'd reach the end. He'd find his way back from this nightmare of death. He just couldn't give up.
Somewhere in that thick oppressive darkness, the ground began to give way. Crumbing beneath him, William shouted, scrambling to grab for anything, but his hands found no purchase in the nothing before him.
He was falling, down, down..... just when he thought there would be no ending to this lonely descent, his body crashed into something liquid. William held the last breath he could capture before sinking into the cold water. Forcing his eyes open beneath his now fluid prison, Will was surprised to find he was no longer surrounded by darkness.
In this lonely expanse, lights flickered and shimmered, but they looked odd, not like illuminated sea life or even fairy tail orbs swirling with magic. No, these lights held colors and formed colors. Immediately he swam toward them. Realizing these lights were not lights but images being projected, and not just any images but memories..... his memories.
Will's jaw slacked when the bubbles of air escaped. The man grabbed his throat thinking his surprise had cost him and now he would surely drown. Yet he didn't. He breathed in the mysterious fluid without a problem, he quickly dispelled the mild amusement at this discovery and began looking around at the various tabloids displaying snippets of his life.
One of these had to hold the answer.
"Brother, we did it, did you see? "
The voice from one of the memories caught his eye. It was Luke. He couldn't have been more than 17, he was even huge then. The blonde hair was a mess as he came running up in his soccer uniform. Will smiled, watching, engrossed in the memory. It was when his little brother's team won the regional in high school, he had never seen Luke so animated about anything.
" Yes you did, I'm proud of you! " he had told him and hugged the younger one, congratulating him.
Will reached out, touching the image as it rippled and faded, he needed to live for his little brother. As tough as Luke liked to pretend to be, William knew his brother still needed him. He needed someone who didn't take everything so seriously. Luke had that unfortunate trait of never knowing how to relax. Even with Felicia by his side, the younger man was still wound so tight. And losing his big brother would break him. Not that William thought so highly of himself, it was just a simple fact. His brother took on everything, he held onto pain and wore it around him like chains.
" Hey, Freak! "
Another less pleasurable moment in his life filtered into view. The brilliant colors of a school playground took shape. Will looked over at the image of himself around 7 standing in a schoolyard surrounded by other children. Their cruel sneering faces, it was amazing how vile small children can be. One might wonder what they were taught at home to spew such vitriol at such a young age.
"His mother died probably because he's so weird !" one of the children shouted, nearly spitting the horrid phrase.
"One of his brothers too, and the other ones are all sick now. I bet he will die too." another voice joined.
William felt the same rage he did that day, the first fight he ever got into. His vision tunneled and his skin itched, he could take what they said about him but his family, he just snapped.
The adult version watched and grinned, reliving the pleasure he felt that day. Watched as the spindly little form of his youth pounced over one of the other children holding the boy down and punching him over and over.
When the teacher pulled him away, his little fists were sticky with blood. He'd broken the boy's nose and busted out many of his teeth.
The flashes of images that followed grew more and more violent, sucking him into the crimson glow. Fight after fighting for one reason or another, blood...so much blood.
That's all he could see was blood.