The Life After Death

  Chapter 14: Through the Abyss Part 1

  A scream tore through my throat, raw and unrestrained, as a jolt of electricity shot through my body. My eyes snapped open, wild and searching, the sheer force of the terror still gripping my chest.

  My chest heaved, each ragged breath sending daggers of pain through my ribs. Sweat dripped from my forehead, stinging my eyes as I stared wildly at the dark expanse above. My mind reeled, the sheer terror of what I had just experienced still clawing at the edges of my consciousness.

  What the hell was that?

  The memory—no, the nightmare—was still seared into my mind. I had felt it. The agony, the darkness, the sheer weight of suffering. The sensation had wrapped around me like chains, pulling me deeper into an abyss where pain and torment reigned supreme. And yet… I had never lived through anything like that before. No recollection of those moments, no buried trauma from my past life.

  Was that me dying? The thought crawled into my mind like a sickness. Did I just come back from death?

  My pulse pounded in my ears as I forced my gaze downward. My vision blurred, colors bleeding together before they slowly coalesced into recognizable shapes. My thoughts scrambled, fragments of Marcus and Elise flashing through my mind.

  Why was I reliving them?—none of it made sense.

  Shock settled in again. The towering cliffs of The Divide loomed impossibly high above, their jagged edges slicing into the sky like the fangs of some ancient beast. The sheer scale of the descent struck me like a hammer.

  How am I still alive?

  I remembered the fall, the feeling of weightlessness, the brutal impacts that should have shattered me to pieces. But the pain, while excruciating, wasn’t fatal. I was still here.

  I should have bled out.

  Had something cushioned my fall? Or was it something else entirely?

  That warmth, that faint sensation felt familiar, it felt like healing. Almost like... Helena's touch.

  A thought struck me, sharp and desperate. “Mom! Dad! Hel! I am awake!”

  My voice, hoarse and strained, barely carried in the vast emptiness of the ravine. Silence swallowed my words whole. “Mom! Dad! Helena!”

  No reply.

  Minutes passed, or maybe it was hours, before the realization hit me like a stone wall.

  They didn’t come for me.

  The thought squeezed at my heart, cruel and suffocating. I had imagined waking up to Helena’s worried eyes, to Raiden’s gruff scolding, to Elara’s soothing voice. But they weren’t here. They weren’t searching.

  Were they even looking? Maybe the path was too dangerous. Maybe Elara’s condition made it impossible for them to risk it. Maybe… just maybe… they thought I could survive.

  My throat tightened, the weight of loneliness settling deep into my bones.

  A bitter chuckle escaped my lips. So this is how it is?

  I wasn’t dead. I wasn’t saved. I was just… forgotten. A stray piece of fate tossed into the abyss. I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing away the sting of tears.

  No. They survived Kaelor. They had to. They would never just abandon me. And if they’re still alive… I’ll make it back to them.

  Resolve solidified in my chest, steady despite the trembling in my limbs. I had survived worse. I would survive this. My body screamed in protest as I tried to move. My legs—nothing. My ribs—each breath sent agony lancing through my torso. My left arm—nothing. But I could feel my fingers locked in a vice grip around something.

  Moving my head ever so slightly, I noticed the hilt of my dagger, its blade buried deep into my left thigh. A fresh wave of pain pulsed through me, and I realized it must have lodged itself there during the fall, the impact of hitting the rocks driving it in.

  My right arm, however, responded.

  Slowly, painfully, I raised my hand toward the sky, fingers trembling as I opened them.

  A small smile tugged at my lips. I can still move.

  As the scene behind my hand came into focus, my breath hitched again. The Divide loomed before me, its cliffs stretching endlessly, an impassable titan of stone and shadow.

  I fell from there…

  Another, more painful realization followed, settling deep into my gut. Maybe they moved on. Maybe they thought I’d never make such a fall.

  The weight of it pressed down on me, suffocating. My hand slowly lowered, falling limply against my chest. Tears burned at the corners of my eyes. I let them fall. Just for a moment. Just to grieve the possibility that no one was coming.

  Please… let them be alive.

  The thought spurred me into action. I had to move. I had to do something. My right arm was my only functioning limb. Gritting my teeth, I used what little strength I had left to roll my upper body toward the riverbank. My body, weak and broken, felt like dead weight. But I refused to stop.

  With one final push, I collapsed forward, my face hitting the wet earth, half-submerged in the cold water.

  I drank. The water was crisp, clean, revitalizing in a way that sent a shudder through my battered frame. My body begged for more, for nourishment, for something to fight against the creeping numbness.

  I need a plan.

  An hour passed. Maybe more. I lost track of time as I focused on just existing. Then, I took a slow, deliberate breath and concentrated. Laying still, I forced my mind to focus beyond the pain. If I couldn’t move, I could at least try to draw in mana.

  The faint pulse of mana still lingered within me, a whisper of light flickering weakly in my manaheart. It wasn’t the typical way I refined it—without the structured breathing and posture I was used to—but if I could even faintly gather some, it might give me the strength I needed.

  As I closed my eyes, something felt different. The mana particles in the air shimmered more vibrantly than before, their hues pulsing like distant stars. I reached out with what little energy I had, trying to pull them toward my manaheart. The effort was sluggish, frustratingly weak, as if my body resisted the process. But I could feel them responding—just a few drifting closer, like embers drawn to a dying flame.

  Summoning what little I had left, I pushed, forming the smallest gust of air beneath me.

  The force sent me rolling, slamming into the bark of a nearby tree. Agony erupted through my body, a fresh reminder of my broken ribs, my shoulder still burning from the spear wound, and now my left thigh pierced by my own dagger. I let out a hoarse scream, the pain so overwhelming I nearly blacked out.

  And yet… I smiled. I can still feel pain.

  That meant my body just needed time. Time to heal. Time to regain strength. Time to figure out how to climb out of this hell.

  I glanced down at my shoulder where the spear had pierced me, expecting to see a mess of blood and torn flesh. Instead, my eyes widened. The wound was still there, but it had sort of closed, unnaturally. The bleeding had nearly stopped, the flesh knitting together just enough to keep me from dying.

  A bitter laugh escaped me, laced with exhaustion and confusion. "What the hell..." I muttered under my breath.

  Who had done this? Helena wasn’t here. There was no one. Unless... had she somehow reached me before I hit the ground? Had she tried to save me as I fell? I shook my head, the thought sending a fresh wave of confusion through my aching skull.

  "I’m so confused..." I murmured, pressing a trembling hand against the wound. Whatever the answer was, I didn’t have the luxury of dwelling on it now.

  Leaning against the tree, I took my first real look at my surroundings. Mist drifted from a waterfall above, swirling in ghostly tendrils through the rainforest that stretched around me. The trees were enormous, their trunks thicker than any I had seen before. The air was dense, heavy with moisture, and strangely rich, unlike the thin mountain air of The Divide.

  A strange calm settled over me. I was alive. In pain. But alive.

  I let out a slow breath. “Alright,” I murmured to myself. “Time to rest.”

  Closing my eyes, I let exhaustion claim me once more, knowing that when I woke up, my fight for survival would begin.

  Darkness settled, agony—raw and unrelenting—surged through my body, hands clawed at my skin, dragging me deeper into the abyss. I could hear screams—some distant, others too close. They weren’t mine, yet they echoed within me, vibrating against my bones.

  The sensation of something writhing in the shadows gnawed at my awareness. My breath came in shallow gasps, my limbs thrashing against a force that seemed to coil tighter with every second. It was familiar, yet utterly alien.

  A whisper slithered through, curling into my ear like a serpent’s hiss.

  "Get closer!"

  I jolted awake with a gasp, my chest heaving as I instinctively pushed myself against the rough bark of the tree. My body ached, the remnants of the dream clinging to me like a fever dream.

  Night had already come, the rainforest bathed in the twin glow of silver and crimson moonlight, My breaths came in short gasps as I pressed a trembling hand to my forehead.

  What was that dream? Why is it always this painful?

  The sensation of agony, the suffocating darkness—it felt too real, too visceral. Why does it keep happening? Am I losing my mind? My body ached, but my mind churned with unease. As if I am experiencing something buried deep within me.

  Without realizing, I startled at the sensation—my forehead was pressed against my left hand. Instinct kicked in, and the realization hit me. "My body rested... I can move," I murmured to myself.

  The aches and pains were severe, but they did not paralyze me. Slowly, I tested my legs, willing them to respond. A dull, burning sensation ran through them, but they moved—sluggish, heavy, but still functioning.

  My attention turned to my left thigh, where the dagger remained embedded. Gritting my teeth, I reached toward it with my right hand, my fingers trembling as they grasped the hilt. A sharp jolt of pain lanced through me, and I sucked in a breath, steadying myself. “If I left it in too long, infection would set in.”

  Bracing myself, I wrapped my left hand tightly around the hilt as well, sweat dripping down my brow as I readied for the inevitable pain. With a sharp tug, I pulled. A guttural grunt tore from my throat as the blade slid free, fresh blood seeping from the wound. My vision blurred for a moment, black spots dancing at the edges, but I forced myself to stay conscious.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  Without wasting a second, I ripped a piece of cloth from my right sleeve, my hands trembling as I worked. Tying it tightly around my leg just above the wound, I secured the makeshift bandage, pulling it firm to slow the bleeding. The pain was a raging fire, but I clenched my jaw, willing myself to endure. The wound was now bound, but the throbbing ache remained, pulsing with each beat of my heart.

  I glanced at my shoulder, noting the slow trickle of blood escaping from the partially mended wound. It wasn't fatal, but the sight of it made my stomach twist. With a sigh, I tore another strip from my already ruined sleeve, pressing it firmly against the wound before wrapping it tightly around my shoulder. The crude bandage would have to do for now—at least enough to keep the bleeding under control.

  With my leg and shoulder secured, I turned my focus inward. I needed strength—just enough to stand. Gritting my teeth, I tried to will my muscles into action, but my body felt like dead weight, refusing to respond.

  My breath came in shallow gasps as I pressed a trembling hand against the damp earth. My manaheart still flickered faintly, the mana I had gathered earlier barely enough to sustain me.

  "Come on... just a little more."

  Closing my eyes, I concentrated, channelling what little mana I could into my limbs. It was not the powerful surge I had once wielded but a subtle, guiding force, coaxing my body into movement. I infused my legs with the faintest pulse of energy, feeling the slight resistance as my muscles responded sluggishly. My right leg twitched, then my left, the pain flaring but not enough to stop me.

  With a deep inhale, I planted my right hand firmly against the tree behind me and pushed. My body protested, fire coursing through my ribs and leg, but I forced myself upward. Inch by inch, my frame lifted off the damp earth, my trembling limbs barely holding my weight.

  Every motion was agony, but I kept going, teeth clenched against the overwhelming burn. The mana weaving through my muscles felt unnatural, an artificial strength keeping me upright when my body should have collapsed.

  It reminded me of the enhancements I once relied on—cybernetic augmentations that turned weakness into strength, flesh into steel. But this was different. The mana didn't pulse with the cold efficiency of machinery, it was forcing itself forward through something that felt both foreign and intimately mine.

  Finally, I found myself kneeling, my breath ragged, sweat dripping from my forehead. I wasn’t standing yet, but it was a start. I let out a shaky breath, steeling myself for what came next.

  For the next few hours, I pushed my body, forcing it to respond, to function. Every motion sent fresh waves of pain coursing through me, but I gritted my teeth and endured. My limbs felt like they were filled with lead, each attempt at movement slow and agonizing. Yet, I refused to stop. I had to get my body working again, no matter how much it hurt.

  As time passed, I realized the sky had darkened, the air growing colder. A chill seeped into my skin, making every ache feel sharper. I needed to move. Whether to find shelter or simply keep warm, lying here would only make things worse. I couldn’t afford to be still.

  Drawing on what little mana I had left, I wove it into my limbs, urging them to respond. It wasn’t much, just enough to make the most basic of movements possible, but it was better than nothing. My breaths came in ragged gasps as I tried to muster enough strength to move.

  Realizing that it was too dark to start finding my way out, I turned my attention to securing warmth for the night. Using my dagger, I began chopping at the bark of the tree, gathering small branches and dried twigs into a makeshift pile. My fingers trembled with exhaustion, but the thought of survival gnawed at me, refusing to let me rest.

  Although I hesitated, knowing how unpredictable my magic had been, I knew I had no choice. Mustering my courage, I closed my eyes and attempted to use my fire magic,— a memory of how Raiden used his magic to light the hilt in the cold evenings guiding my fingers— hoping I wouldn’t engulf the entire area in flames. A small flicker of fire sparked from my palm, licking at the dried branches before settling into a steady glow.

  I let out a breath of relief, watching as the flames caught and spread just enough to sustain themselves. A weary grin tugged at my lips. "Heh... I actually pulled it off," the words barely more than a breath against the cool night air.

  The warmth spread slowly, crawling over my skin like a hesitant embrace, easing the relentless chill that had settled into my bones.

  The flames crackled softly, their glow casting dancing shadows along the thick trunks surrounding me. I held my hands toward them, revelling in the contrast of heat against my cold, stiff fingers. The moment felt almost surreal—just hours ago, I had been plummeting to my death, yet here I was, alive.

  A grin tugged at my lips as an old memory resurfaced.

  "At least this time, I didn’t incinerate myself," chuckling dryly.

  "Still got my clothes on. That’s progress." I joked under my breath, the absurdity of the thought bringing a fleeting sense of humor to the otherwise grim situation. Relief washed over me as the flames grew, providing enough warmth to last through the night.

  As the flames flickered, my mind drifted through the chaos of the last few days. "I really hope they’re okay," my voice barely above a whisper. Thoughts of my family filled my head, their faces flashing through the haze of uncertainty.

  Are they safe? Do they think I'm dead? The idea gnawed at me, pressing against the exhaustion weighing down my limbs.

  For the rest of the evening, I struggled to make sense of it all—how I had survived the fall, how I ended up here in one piece. The puzzle refused to come together, each missing piece lost in the blur of pain and confusion. No matter how much I retraced my steps, the answers eluded me, leaving only fragmented recollections and lingering dread.

  Eventually, I exhaled a weary sigh, realizing that most of the night had slipped away. There was no point in fighting sleep any longer. I needed rest, I needed to gather my strength. Tomorrow, I would start anew, find a way out of this abyss, and make it back to them. With that final thought, I closed my eyes, letting the warmth of the fire lull me into an uneasy sleep.

  Morning came and the first thing that stirred me awake was the scent—damp earth, the lingering char of my fire, and the crisp aroma of the rainforest. The air was thick with moisture, clinging to my skin like a second layer.

  I inhaled deeply, my senses slowly sharpening as the world around me came into focus. The distant chirping of animals echoed through the trees, their rhythmic calls blending into the rustling of leaves swayed by the morning breeze.

  But louder than anything else was the sharp, hollow pang in my stomach. Hunger had finally set in, a gnawing emptiness that curled in my gut like a coiled serpent. I grimaced, pressing a hand against my abdomen. I hadn’t eaten in what felt like forever, and my body was making sure I knew it. I needed food, and soon.

  With a pained groan, I shifted, forcing my stiff muscles into motion. The pain was still there—a constant, throbbing reminder of my injuries. Small drips of blood still leaked from my leg and shoulder, dried streaks marking my skin where the wounds hadn’t fully closed. I exhaled through gritted teeth, steadying myself.

  Gathering mana, I wove it carefully into my limbs, reinforcing the weak muscles enough to function. The process was slow, deliberate. Every ounce of energy counted. My right hand tightened around the hilt of my dagger. Pushing through the lingering pain, I took a slow breath and set off into the rainforest.

  As I moved deeper, the towering trees stretched impossibly high, their thick bark rough beneath my fingertips. Their massive roots twisted and curled into the earth like ancient veins, intertwining in ways that seemed unnatural, as if something was feeding them.

  Vibrant plants sprouted in clusters around me, their colors impossibly rich that seemed to glow under the soft morning light.

  I hadn't taken more than a few steps when I noticed the insects. Massive, unfamiliar creatures, their bodies shimmering with an eerie iridescence, skittered across the undergrowth.

  One particularly grotesque thing—something between a centipede and a beetle—crawled up a tree, its long, segmented legs making a faint clicking sound that sent a shiver up my spine.

  "Great. Giant bugs. Exactly what I needed," pulling a disgusted face as I gave it a wide berth. If there was one thing I wasn’t prepared for, it was oversized nightmare fuel lurking in the wilderness.

  As I continued forward, a sharp cry rang out through the trees, something between a wounded animal and a deep, guttural growl. My body tensed instantly, my grip tightening around my dagger. I moved cautiously, stepping lightly through the thick foliage as I followed the sound.

  The deeper I went, the more I noticed odd details—the faint imprints of strange footprints in the soft earth, the deep scratches that marred the bark of nearby trees. They weren’t shaped like anything I recognized. Too large for any small creature, too unnatural for a wild cat or a bear.

  My stomach twisted. "This world really doesn’t make things easy for me, huh?"

  Despite my wariness, another, more primal thought pushed its way to the front of my mind. If it was an animal, that meant it could be food. My stomach let out another loud, insistent growl, almost as if agreeing with the idea.

  "Well, whatever it is, I hope it’s tasty," I sighed, pressing forward, my hunger outweighing my apprehension as I followed the unknown tracks deeper into the jungle.

  Pushing past thick branches and dense bushes, I caught sight of something that made me freeze—a small trail of blood smeared along the ground. My grip tightened around my dagger as I cautiously followed it, every muscle in my body tensed. The trail led deeper into the foliage until I spotted the source—a small deer, barely clinging to life, limping and whimpering in pain.

  My breath hitched as I took in the sight. Its back leg was missing, torn clean off as if something massive had ripped it away. Blood pooled beneath its frail body, its breaths coming in weak, trembling gasps. My stomach twisted.

  What did this?

  A part of me wanted to understand, to make sense of the brutal scene before me, but another part—deeper, more instinctual—recognized the harsh reality. This creature was suffering. And I needed food.

  Swallowing down whatever emotions threatened to surface, I stepped closer. The deer's dark eyes met mine, wide with fear but too weak to move. I crouched beside it, setting my dagger against its neck.

  "I’m sorry," I whispered, then struck fast, the blade sinking into its throat, ending its suffering in an instant.

  I pulled my dagger free, wiping the blood onto my tattered sleeve before glancing at the remains of its leg. The wound wasn’t clean. Jagged tears ran along the edges of flesh and bone, as if something had gnawed or torn at it with brutal strength. That wasn’t a normal predator… whatever did this, it’s big.

  My stomach growled again, pulling me from my thoughts. I exhaled through my nose, my body still aching as I grabbed the deer’s body and began dragging it back the way I had come. Every step sent sharp pain through my leg and shoulder, but I pushed through, determined to reach the riverbank.

  Back at my makeshift camp, I wasted no time. I gathered rocks and arranged them into a fire pit, then stacked small branches and dried leaves inside. With the deer laid beside me, I carefully skinned the deer, stripping away its hide with slow, deliberate cuts.

  The process was messy, my hands slick with blood, but I needed the hide for more than just practicality—I needed warmth. Once the skin was free, I laid it out, rubbing it with damp earth and stretching it over a thick branch, hoping it would dry and stiffen enough to be used as a crude cover or coat.

  With that task done, I turned back to the meat, my stomach tightening in anticipation. I set to work cutting it into manageable portions, skewering them on sticks to roast over the fire.

  Bracing myself, I once again called on my fire magic. It still felt unsteady, unpredictable, but I needed it. I exhaled and willed the flames into existence. A small flicker danced from my palm, catching on the dry twigs, growing into a steady fire.

  As the meat sizzled over the flames, I sat back, the scent of roasting venison filling the air. My stomach clenched in anticipation, and for the first time since waking up in this forsaken abyss, I felt a glimmer of satisfaction.

  The moment the first bite touched my tongue, I nearly gagged. The meat was tough, gamey, and had an overpowering metallic aftertaste. "This is disgusting," forcing myself to chew. Each bite was a battle, and as I swallowed, I grimaced.

  "Mom would be ashamed if she saw me eating something this bad," I chuckled dryly, memories of her perfectly seasoned meals flickering through my mind. Compared to this, her cooking was nothing short of divine.

  Despite the taste, I ate every last scrap, hunger winning out over my taste buds. As the final morsel disappeared, I leaned back, groaning. My stomach, now full for the first time in what felt like an eternity, weighed me down like a stone. I could barely move, my limbs sluggish, my body sinking into the earth as if I had eaten myself into unconsciousness.

  "So this is what it feels like to overeat in the middle of nowhere," I murmured with a dazed smile on my face, staring up at the sky.

  The Divide loomed above me, like sentinels watching over my struggle. My gaze lingered on it, determination settling into my bones.

  "I’ll make it back to them," my voice barely carried over the crackling fire. No matter how long it took, no matter the pain I endured, I would find my way back.

  But right now? Right now, I couldn’t even roll over, let alone stand.

  "Yeah… I’ll think about survival after I sleep this off," My eyelids grew heavy, my full stomach dragging me down into the depths of exhaustion. With one last deep breath, I let the weight of sleep take me, slipping into an afternoon slumber, the warmth of the fire at my side.

  Darkness enveloped me. I couldn’t see anything, but the sounds... they were all-consuming. A woman’s scream tore through the void, raw with agony and terror. My chest tightened as the air grew thick, suffocating. The shrieks grew more desperate, interwoven with a horrifying series of wet, slicing sounds—something unnatural, something tearing through flesh.

  "Please! No!" the voice cried, filled with anguish and despair.

  Then, silence.

  A deafening whisper rushed into my ears, piercing straight into my skull.

  "Emrys!"

  I bolted upright with a sharp gasp, my heart hammering against my ribs. Sweat drenched my forehead as I gripped my dagger, my breath ragged and uneven. My mind spun in frantic circles.

  Was that another dream?

  Another one—more intense, more terrifying than the last. The screams still rang in my ears, lingering like ghostly echoes. I had no recollection of those events. No connection to that voice.

  Who called me? The voice felt too pointed, as if whoever spoke knew me—not just in passing, but intimately.

  Blinking rapidly, I took in my surroundings. Night had fallen once again, the rainforest now bathed in the twin glow of silver and crimson moonlight. The fire beside me still crackled, casting long, flickering shadows against the trees.

  I exhaled slowly, forcing my trembling hands to steady. My body still ached, the weight of my wounds pressing against me, but I had no time to dwell on the pain. I assessed myself again, testing my limbs.

  My strength was slowly returning, but I knew I couldn't afford to waste another night here. The jungle was unpredictable, and staying in one place too long was a risk.

  For a fleeting moment, doubt gnawed at me. Am I really in any condition to move? What if I collapse out there?

  But the thought of staying put, vulnerable to whatever lurked in the rainforest, was far worse. I clenched my fists, pushing through the hesitation. I had no choice. I had to keep going.

  Bracing myself against the tree, I reached for the dried deer skin I had stretched out earlier, draping it over my shoulders. The crude cover was rough and stiff, but it would keep me warm through the night as I pushed forward.

  With a deep breath, I readied myself, stepping into the darkness of the rainforest, determined to press on through the night.