So many images appeared, then vaporized across Erasmus’s dreamy vision while the Unnamed had him in its golden cage of ribs and spectral sinews.
The first was of what looked like a black aircraft hovering over a huge body of water. It looked strange, yet, familiar, like he hadn’t seen it before, but a different version of it. The ship was flat, black, with two long wings and a round center. It flew effortlessly, glowing with engine fire but not emitting a sound crushing boom. It paused over some water, and what looked like a black seed dropped into the water unceremoniously. Then, the plane of sorts banked right and spun upwards into the clouds without a second thought or hesitation.
Next, the image was a shoreline of sand, seaweed, and small waves beneath blinding sunlight. Then it began to shutter, like an internal antenna needed to be adjusted inside his brain. Out in shallows a feminine shape with green tendrils swam, bending and twisting in the teal surf as if she were a freed prisoner. She dived into the darkness after a few laps back and forth. A few shadows followed her out to the deeper blue. They were larger, and somewhat muddled in their silhouettes. They almost looked like overturned ships.
As these visions passed before Erasmus, there were no smells or sounds. The trance was eerily silent causing him to hear his own impatient breath gasping, and the occasional sound of foliage being brushed or snapped from outside the monster’s moving bones. Despite the obvious physical movement of the monster around Erasmus’s body, which was curled into a ball within this bronze prison, his form did not move. He was suspended, almost cradled.
He hadn’t felt this safe since he’d been alive.
The last vision was the most abstract. It was a massive forest, larger than anything Erasmus had in his broken memories, overlooking empty plains of grass and flowers. The trees were massive, stretching into the sky and spreading out in jade patterns. They reminded Erasmus of giant steel buildings and a winding train worming through their skyscraper bellies. He didn’t know why he had that memory for comparison. He didn’t know where it came from.
Then, the movement stopped. There was the clatter of gunfire, followed by desperate yells and quick explosions. These sounds were becoming a pattern to Erasmus’s very existence. They were a violent echo following him through every setting he came across. Was the whole world constantly set ablaze by malice and war? Or was it just him? Was he cursed with some sort of breathing, bullet-wild requiem.
Erasmus suddenly seemed to be floating inside the Unnamed. His stomach felt light, like his body was trying to escape it. Air rushed by him through gaps in the Unnamed skeleton. Then, there was a collision of dirt, plant, and his flesh.
And then there was again, silence.
More coming every week. You can learn more about The Greenland Diaries book series and also read some of the days from it. To catch up on previous entries of Erasmus, hit here. Thank you for supporting my work.