The darkness was absolute.
I drifted in a void – weightless and untethered, with no sense of time or place.
My last memories were fragmented, scattered like shards of a broken mirror.
I had died...right?
It seemed like the only plausible explanation for this emptiness. A bright blur in the heart of darkness of my recollection and then it somewhat became clear.
Of course, I had died! Died like a retard after my crush of many years said she liked me back!
Fuck my life!
Well, it's fucked anyways. After all, I am dead! Ha..ha!
There was nothing in this place—no sight, no sound, no touch. Just an endless abyss wrapping around me, suffocating yet oddly tranquil.
I couldn't even tell if I was breathing. Perhaps I wasn't.
I was dead after all. Why would I be breathing?
But if I was actually dead, how am I monologuing like Ayanokouji? This doesn't make sense! Have I entered some active paradox with my death?
I lost track of time in this place after the first month.
The first week was panic, second was hopeless struggle, third was despair, fourth was acceptance and after that I stopped counting from 0 to 86,400 every day.
However, recently I have been feeling a little different. Slowly, albeit imperceptibly, something has begun to change.
It was faint at first, just like a distant echo of sensation.
I couldn't place it, couldn't understand it. Rather than sensation, it was like a constant bombardment of a sense that I had never wielded.
Sixth sense, perhaps? But isn't that basically just intuition?
And besides, I could feel it whispering to my consciousness.
It wasn't the same wrinkly, old woman's voice that I kept hearing while I was breathing my last, but it felt oddly similar.
How do I know she's wrinkly? Cause he sounded like one, that's why!
As I was musing, the void pulsed around me, and a flicker of awareness sparked in my mind.
It was as if my brain was awakening, neurons firing up in a synchronised action of creation. Thoughts became clearer, though still muddled, and I began to perceive more than just the endless dark.
A rush of something—something warm and fluid—enveloped me.
I could feel it now, pressing in from all sides. My skin felt…raw and… new, tingling with every touch.
Was I… floating?
Well, at least I could feel something. It was better than the sensation of plain 'nothingness' I felt during the first month that always pushed me to the precipice of madness.
Well, all I can do is wait…maybe this is my punishment for being an absolute pussy for so long!
Hahh…I am tired…
…and I want to die.
What kind of hell is this…?!
***
My sensations have grown stronger, more defined.
I can now sense the boundaries of my body, my limbs, and my core.
I can make my fingers twitch. The movements are miniscule but it's better than just feeling of having a body but being unable to move it.
I still have some existential crisis. Maybe I am not dead?
And just in a coma? Maybe I am slowly regaining control of my body? I had received blunt force trauma to my head after all…
The thought alone was the driving force behind my will to not go totally insane. Maybe I'll see dad again. If I am in a coma, he might not be as miserable as well! After all, he has a hope that I might wake up.
I should take Olivia on a date too…
Having the same monologue for the 706th time, I twitched my fingers for fun.
I marvelled at the feeling. Well, the term 'marvel' has a very low bar for me now.
I just made myself get excited at the realisation that I had fingers again, or rather, I could feel my fingers again. They were tiny, delicate, but they were mine.
Although I can't remember why my long and masculine fingers are so small and stubby again.
It could be because I am reincarnating…
NO, FUCK NO! I am NOT reincarnating. To hell with that!
Also, I didn't meet a blue-haired dumb goddess until now so I am sure this is not reincarnation.
…yeah, I am sure.
***
Nothing much has changed. Although; my awareness had significantly expanded.
On top of that, their range of motion has also increased. Although, the movement is more sluggish than before, as if pushing through a thick liquid.
I flexed them, feeling the resistance of the fluid surrounding me. It was warm, comforting in a way, like a gentle hug.
Don't tell me I am in a Recouperation Tank.
Although that would be pretty cool.
***
I can finally feel my legs that have scored so many goals! Wooo!
Would've raised a toast but it looks like this slimy, liquid-y chamber does not have that.
On a side note; it might sound creepy (and it totally is) but I can feel my muscles forming and the joints taking shape.
That aside...
I HAVE AN INTERESTING FACT!
I discovered it during my multiple 'incursions.'
When I kick out like this, the whole fluid ripples around me. It's funne.
And oftentimes I feel like a hand against my feet. But I have convinced myself that I am hallucinating.
Yep…
(***)
Time passed—days, weeks, I couldn't tell.
But with each passing moment, my body grew stronger, more complete.
I could feel my heart beating. My lungs filled and emptied, drawing in the warm fluid that surrounded me.
It was a bizarre sensation – breathing without air, but; it felt right. Natural.
I became more aware of my surroundings, the walls of the chamber that held me. They were soft and they pulsed with a steady rhythm. It was as if I were inside a living, breathing entity.
I thought gaining more of myself would make me happy. But all I felt right now was despair.
Maybe I had realised it a while ago, but I continued to deny it. Deny the absolute, iron-clad truth that I am being reborn.
The idea will seem absurd, but the evidence is too glaringly obvious.
My body was growing, developing. My senses were awakening, and I could feel the world beyond the darkness.
My skin was hypersensitive as well. Or maybe it's this sensitive because I have spent so much fucking time in a womb with no ability to perceive!
Every touch and movement are amplified.
I can also feel the woman whose womb I am inhabiting's heartbeat.
I may not admit it later but sometimes…it is comforting.
Whispering. Telling me that…I was not alone.
Her voice, though muffled and distant, would often reach me in the dark, from beyond the membrane that was lined with stretched, red veins.
I often listen. You know, trying to make sense of the sounds.
There are other voices as well, mingling with this woman's.
Laughter, conversation, the rustle of movement. She was an active woman as well.
I would often hear loud clamouring sounds from a distance as well.
It was a world I couldn't see but could almost touch with my growing awareness.
And despite the prospect of a mediaeval world, possibly with that of magic, it made me feel hollower on the inside.
(***)
My brain had picked up pace in its development, neurons firing and connecting in a complex array of consciousness.
Thoughts are clearer, more coherent. I can now remember more—fragments of my past life other than the scene of my death.
That also did little to decrease my disdain for this new world.
I had been seventeen, on the cusp of adulthood, and now I was going to start over.
…
Would there be a way for me to go back?
(***)
I feel like today is the day.
Over the course of past days? months? the darkness had shifted into a mix of red and black.
But I may see a colour other than these two today.
Why?
Because I can feel something different.
A change in the rhythm of my tiny room.
The fluid around is pressing in, pushing me forward. It was a slow, inexorable movement, like the turning of a great wheel.
The confines were tightening, pushing me toward a distant light. Despite having my bones developed overtime, the contractions that squeezed me hurt, even though just a little.
My ears were ringing, ever so slightly.
The woman seemed to be a strong one, since all that reached my numb ears were a few occasional groans of pain. And nothing else.
The light grew brighter, filling the space.
My heart raced, and my tiny body bristled.
I could finally see the light at the end of the tunnel.
Well, more appropriately, light at the end of a vag—
'THAT'S THE WOMAN WHO'S GOING TO BIRTH YOU, YOU DUMB FUCK!'
I mentally reprimanded myself.
Ehm, anyways, finally, the darkness around me began to give way and the fluid started to drain away.
For the first time in…uhh, let's say 9 months—excluding the time I was in a guy's balls because that is disgusting to imagine—I could feel the air.
Cool and soothing, yet so…unfamiliar, brushing against my wet skin.
A jolt went down my body, making me gasp and cry out.
I am no longer floating; I am being pulled into a new world.
The pressure increased, and my body was further compressed and squeezed through the opening as I was pushed toward the light.
Suddenly, a pair of strong hands from behind the opening gripped me from shoulders and yanked my fat ass out.
I could hear voices, excited and relieved, mingling with my cries of joy.
I was out in the real world, once again!
I couldn't help but cry continuously. I was not sure what I was supposed to feel.
Happiness? Anger? Relief? Sadness?
I had left so much behind. So much, that this 2nd chance at life feels more like a punishment than a blessing.
A soft cloth suddenly wiped against my forehead while some kind of incision was performed around my stomach. From my periphery, it felt like a blood-caked snake had fallen to the ground.
The cloth smeared away the fluid from my face before pulling it to itself.
My eyes were bombarded with so many colours that I could barely see anything. Just a general outline.
Sensory overload! Code; RED!
The woman smiled gingerly at me as she suddenly pressed her lips against my forehead.
The warmth of her lips was much, much different than the warmth of her womb. It felt so much…alive.
She looked down at me and then moved her lips. I could not completely understand what she said.
There was a heavy static infesting my ears and the sensory overload from colours and natural light had still not completely subsided.
However, as she paused and looked into my eyes, I felt those red orbs soften.
Red…RED! DEMON! WITCH! BURN HER!
Wait…I'm being too dramatic.
She looked overhead and then nodded before looking down at me. Someone came from behind me. I tried to turn my head, but I couldn't spot the person. All I felt was a slight, playful nudge to my nose.
The golden haired, red-eyed woman kissed me on the forehead once again, before talking in a language I couldn't grasp. But the last bit…I think I got it.
"Velkominn til heimsins, lítill Ássur"
Maybe it's my baby brain but I realised a bit late…isn't she talking in Ancient Norse…?
As I thought about it, my vision started to blur and fatigue overtook me.
God…being a baby is so exhausting, what the actual fuck?