The world around Michael became chaotic, as did his mind. The memory of his brush with death fresh in his mind, the trauma resurfacing and suppressing his sense of reason.
The sound of rushing wind as he cut through the air almost muted the sound of the earth breaking as the vines that hid beneath the grassland made themselves known.
Michael's world was spinning, his breath was uneven and his whole body drenched in a cold sweat as his arms flailed around grasping at empty air in a sorry attempt to slow down his descent.
The rocks that had been flung from his impact with the giant boulder, hit the grassland first and the whole earth stirred in response to the aggressors. And with the activity, came the scent of rot. It was vile and stung at his nose, coupled with the vertigo from the free fall, he felt his stomach churn as the tea he just had rose through his gut.
"I'm gonna die", the realization settled in as all the rationality he built to hide from the harsh reality crumbled.
He braced for impact, hoping to at least use the impact to reorient himself somehow, maybe the momentum of his fall would offer him the luxury. A sliver of hope made it's way through his upturned thoughts. Maybe, just maybe, if he put trust in his enhanced physic he would managed to dodge the first initial strikes, he would have some breathing room to escape.
The events after impact were anything but hope inspiring.
Just like it had the rocks, the horror afforded him no moment of reprieve. His landing was met by a vines of different girth. Some wrapped themselves around his torso while smaller much swifter vines immobilized him by his limbs threatening to shatter his bones. It all happened so fast that before Michael could ricochet off the ground he found himself unable to move, held down by a vice grip. His eyes went wider with terror and his breath became more uneven in his moment of absolute panic.
"I'M GOING TO DIE!" He yelled at the top of his voice, hoping Caster would here, maybe he would help. His survival instincts non-existent in the face of overwhelming power and suffocating fear.
Then pain beyond what he thought possible assaulted every of his limbs.
He felt something, the like of a snake, slither up his bare feet and burrow at the base of his heel with such strength and fervor that it set his whole left leg aflame with pain. Michael squirmed in his restraints in a desperate attempt to set himself loose. An inhuman wail born of pain, despair, anger and desperation tore the air and almost his vocal chords. Blood tainted his mouth and teeth crimson as his throat turned sore.
His veins bulged above his muscles as his eyes turned bloodshot. The adrenaline that was pumping through his blood afforded him some numbness but even that was not enough to dull the pain that tore through his nerves as the vines made their way deeper into his anatomy.
Crimson gushed from his limbs with the likeness of a water from a hose, the vines pushed through his flesh so hard and so fast his mind went completely blank in shock.
Ironically, that was a welcome reprieve.
For a moment, the mind numbing pain became a vestige of what it once was. He could feel the eerie sensation of something burrowing under his skin, but that was it. The creases on his face softened as the terrified expression softened before his face was frozen between terror and relief, his eyelids peeled back as dust and debris filled his eyes and mouth.
His mind was shattered, the pain, the panic, the turmoil that had engulfed him all came at a price. This was his second encounter with a horror so strong and ruthless it left him in a completely helpless state. However, this was the first where he was completely overpowered so fast and so ruthlessly it left his mind and body in a sorry state. Had he really thought he had a chance, even now, he felt true despair. His weakness, almost as if willed by fate, became even more evident. Was this life's way of reminding him of his incapability, wasn't it supposed to be different this time?His mind was already frail, at one point, somehow, something had attempted to cure him. it had almost worked. Almost.
He lay there, heaving, his breath raspy and mouth full of blood from all the screaming. His head felt light and his vision begun to tunnel.
They say, the mind, in an attempt to make sense of a completely unfathomable situation, creates a world to make sense of reality, or to hide from that very reality.
Michael saw a woman at the edge of the tunnel of darkness. Her hair flowed as if it had shackled the very winds, golden rays gleamed off it's surface in a blinding radiance of beauty. Michael found himself smiling. His terrified gaze softened a little and the place where his heart sat grew warmer. This was the feeling he coveted, also one he loathed in an ironical paradox. He felt hope.
He was entranced by the beautiful intruder. Lost was the memory of the predicament he was in, replaced by a warmth so profound it brought calm to his raging mind. The harsh reality seemed to fade before his eyes.
In that state, he failed to hear the sound of breaking bone as his body was forced through the crevices in the soil by the demonic vines. First his limbs were pulled through, then his torso. Blood spilled as bone, skin and muscle tore with the ease of paper. Michael felt none of it, somehow, the sight of the woman made his pain go away, or was it the state of shock his mind was in? How would he know, his mind was already far gone.
Then the sky above him shifted slightly, the clouds begun to rush above him, the brightness of daylight dimmed to become the hue of twilight. It was a complicated sight that Michael's mind refused to process. The sky turned orange and the heat of day turned into the cold of night. Slowly, Michael felt his awareness return to him. The pressure on his limbs begun to lessen, the torturous pain that had assaulted him was no more and the sensation of something burrowing into his insides was gone with it. His body became enveloped by a serene calmness that he had forgotten existed.
The heat of day became the cold of night as a warmth enveloped his body like a second skin.
Before his eyes, a dark canvas dotted with myriad stars opened up gradually.
The grassland above him faded giving way to softer less active ground.
He was no longer in the grassland?