Single post in The Little One -- [COMPLETED]

“Where are you going?” the male medic shouted. “It’s not me!” the young man shouted back. “I can’t control my legs!” The little girl finally caught another desperate grip on his slippery wrist. For a moment, he grabbed her small wrist, wanting to exert some form of self-control. When he realized each painful step pulled her toward the chaos, he struggled to loosen his grip. His fingers now stiff and difficult to uncurl, he shouted, “Grab her, please!” The lady medic took the little redhead in her arms, causing her to cry out. Realizing he was steadily losing control of his body, the young man tried wrenching free from the little girl’s grasp. His fingers barely responded, loosening just enough for the lady medic to pull the girl’s hand free. However, the man’s fingertips inadvertently snatched off the girl’s yarn bracelet in the same motion. When his hand clamped shut around it, he could only listen as the girl’s wails seemed to drown out the rain and thunder. No matter how hard he tried, his fingers would not release the bracelet nor the sword. “Hey!” the officer shouted, pushing against the young man in utter futility. The constantly shaking sword continued to guide his steps back toward the fierce battle continuing to rage in the streets. “Stop!” The young man couldn’t even respond now. His lips defied his will, refusing to do more than tremble. Maddening since his legs did the opposite. The relentless officer pulled with his every ounce of strength but could do nothing to slow the young man’s stride. It was a terrifying feeling to watch his body continue to move independent of his will. Above all else, he deeply wished the officer could do something to stop him. Any hope in that fleeting desire died seconds later when the officer practically gave up his efforts after being dragged several yards down the drenched sidewalk. But why can’t I stop? he thought before his eyes were drawn to an unnatural illumination on the ground near the vehicle he’d been flung into. As he drew closer, the illumination looked more like a rippling puddle of light spread across a section of the sidewalk. That was when he noticed the sheath. It curiously lay almost in the middle of the growing puddle, and it appeared the liquid light was inside it. Personally, he would have chosen to reach the sheath without stepping in the strange liquid. His feet did not share the same sentiment. They stepped right into the middle of the puddle before his body crouched to grab the sheath without releasing the bracelet. The various symbols on its surface glowed white similarly to the puddle, but after lifting the sheath, he realized the stream of glowing fluid poured out of the sheath itself. He tilted it downward, allowing the fluid to run onto the ground. Whatever it was continued to gush forth with alarming volume, like a faucet with a broken valve. The small puddle grew more turbulent as its size expanded across the sidewalk. It began doubling over itself, creating waves that climbed higher with each splash. Even the fluid at his feet pulled away, adding to the scaling wall of liquid. When its height easily doubled his, the fluid began to taper off from the sheath. By that point, the wall looked more like cycling waterfall feeding and drawing from the inches-high "pool" at its base. It wasn’t until the last drop fell from the sheath did he realize the bars on its surface had gone dark again. Although the symbols still glowed, he had a thought. The sword in his hand still trembled, but he cautiously attempted to return it within the sheath. It took several moments to guide the sharp tip of the blade inside without nicking his hand. Once the tip no longer endangered his hand, he quickly slid the sword inside until a click echoed louder than the cacophony already in play around him. The sword gradually stopped shaking with the glow of the symbols fading. Checking to make sure things had returned to normal, he gave the hilt a tug. It wouldn’t draw out. Somewhat fortunate for that, he began to wonder when exactly he’d regained control of his body. Correction: majority control of his body. For unknown reasons, his hands still would not relinquish the sword nor the bracelet. The confusing thoughts took a backseat upon noticing the light within the liquid coalescing beneath the waterfall’s surface into the shape of a wavy rectangle. It was like staring into a distorted door of light. “What now?” he muttered with little effort. His shoulder still aching, body soaked to the bone, and no spark of a memory to his identity, the young man stared with a deep desire for a sense of normalcy. Part of him expected someone or something to emerge from the waters, but nothing did after several seconds. Then he stepped back. “You want to go through.” Though the statement was aimed at the sword, he kept his eyes on the light and chuckled. Now he understood why the sword wouldn’t allow him to let go. The first thought that entered his mind was the toss the thing right into the light. He frowned. What projected the light anyway? What’s the worst that would happen if he entered it? Death by drowning? Maybe, if he ran really fast, he’d just emerge on the other side a little wetter… if that were possible. “But if I’m lucky,” he thought aloud, “I’ll get total recall.” Inhaling deeply, he lowered his head and charged into the light. Far, far away… watching silently with eyes like endless, serene ocean, a feminine presence expresses no emotion from the events recently transpired under her watchful gaze. After witnessing the gateway’s closure upon entry of the Chronoblade, her attention is drawn elsewhere. A line that slips into the past. Countless choices need be carefully monitored. Give and take forever by her side, maintaining balance with careful precision. She ensures the proper path is followed within the beat of a single heart… because time waits for no man. END