The Underworld (The Atlas Series Book 3) by Becca C. Smith

Author:Becca C. Smith
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Red Frog Publishing
Published: 2016-09-04T06:00:00+00:00

DAY TWO

Chapter Twelve

The woman woke up on the shores of the river Lethe, dry and tired. For a moment, she felt a surge of panic when she couldn’t remember her name, but it passed when she realized she didn’t care very much. In fact, she couldn’t remember anything. She didn’t even know where she was, except that the water flowing next to her was dangerous. She didn’t know why, she just knew it was true.

Examining her clothes and body thoroughly, she made sure that she was completely dry. A drop would be enough to hurt her, somehow she knew that as well. The gray landscape didn’t bother her, either, for it was peaceful in its own way. Part of her sensed that it was somehow wrong, though, that there should be…colors.

The word sounded strange in her head. What were colors?

A moment later the thought had dissipated.

It wasn’t important to her. Nothing was important to her. And that somehow felt very good.

Slowly, she stood up and tried not to look at the water. Her instincts screamed at her to stay away from the river. But a sideways glance betrayed her and she saw something strange on its surface.

Though she knew it was dangerous she stared at the water regardless, curiosity winning over safety.

Images formed of two women and four men in some big basement. One of the women she thought she recognized, but couldn’t quite place. White fire came out of the hands of three of them, encasing two of the men. The two men were then strapped down in wired chairs and locked in by the familiar-looking woman. The images repeated after that in an endless loop. She stared at it for hours, not able to pull her attention away.

Over time she began to see similarities in the familiar woman from the water to her own body. Legs, arms, hands, feet, they matched exactly. She realized that the woman must be her. She admired how the woman shot out white fire from her hands and wondered, if that was indeed her, where she had learned how to do that?

Was this the past or the future? Should she be worried? Should she figure out why she couldn’t remember anything?

She found that she didn’t want to know, and the longer she watched the images, the more distraught she felt.

Finally, the woman yanked her head away and began walking away from the river. It was much calmer now, walking amongst the dry shrubs and cracked ground. There was nothing to focus on and that felt right. It felt peaceful.

She must have walked for miles and miles, but her feet didn’t ache. It was good to walk. It gave her a strange sense of joy. As if she had a purpose.

A mission.

The word stuck in her brain and she couldn’t seem to let it go.

Mission. Mission. Mission.

She battled her own mind: the more she tried to push the word out, the louder her head would scream it.

MISSION.

It was as if her brain was telling her to do something that she had no understanding of.

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