Treason: Chapter 7 - Sub Terram "It's okay to let yourself go, just as long as you can find your way back." - Mick Jagger *** The earth was damp, did not crumble but turned into mud as fingers were slowly moved. Hadn't it been dry before, and hot? Now it was cold, and wet, and full of substances stinking of laboratories. No longer was it comforting; the poison fluids hurt the sensitive skin. Escape them, that was important, but how? Upwards there would only be more of them, the water was seeping down to reach him. Downwards there would be nothing but clear earth, not polluted with chemicals. But going there would make it harder to return to the world above; the question remained if he wanted to be part of it again when he felt so secure and comforted down here. It had been his savior, this earth; when the flames had hurt him, burnt his skin, it had opened its cool arms to him to welcome his body. Covering him, the earth had swallowed him, had wrapped him into protection. Deep inside he knew that this was where he belonged, where he should have gone so long ago; this embrace was what he had unconsciously craved for so long. Peace he found here, and consolation; he did not have to think of anything, could forget where he was, what he was, who he was. Nothing mattered. There was only the feeling of comfort. Sleep would come, a warm, soft blackness to sink into; dreams were going to dance through his mind, fantastic sculptures of thoughts unheard of. Like Sleeping Beauty he would lie, no prince would come to fight his way through the wild roses. The roses would protect him, they would not allow it that somebody found him, lest disturb his sleep. Beautiful flowers of the deepest red, crimson petals that hid the thorns. Smell would surround him, the scent of those ethereal florets. Something moved over his face; something cool and strangely soft. He could feel its movements, its body wriggling when it touched his skin. One of the creatures he shared the earth with, a friend, a brother. They would keep him company here, would make sure that he was never alone. Silent companions in his voluntary solitude. The dreams were coming; voices began to fill his head, talking of love and hate, hope and despair, beauty and destruction. They were cruel, too intense; he tried to slowly shake his head to make them go away, but they were too strong already. He had waited for too long, the voices had found him, they would never let him go. What if he thought himself invisible, would they still be able to find him? A noise from above told him that the effort would be futile, they had discovered his hiding place. Around him the earth seemed to move at a sudden, a weight was lifted from his head. Cool night air brushed over his forehead, carrying the smell of fire and ashes. He did not want to go back there, desperately he tried to bury himself again, to go down into the ground. But hands on his arms prevented this, he was yanked upwards. The earth tried to hold him back, wrapped itself around his legs, but it was not strong enough; he was ripped from its grip and lifted into the air. Somebody was touching his face, much like the worm had done before. A gentle, cool touch; he felt imself being held tightly, so close that it began to hurt a little. Hands stroking his hair, telling him that everything was alright, that there was nothing to be afraid of. He wanted to trust those hands, they were familiar, he knew their touch. Knew their name. "Lestat," he whispered, struggling to open his eyes. He was kissed softly, then a voice told him what he needed to hear, the confirmation that he had not lost himself. "Louis..." Arms came around him, he was carried away. Other voices could be heard, speaking of rest and safety and sunrise. The air suddenly ruffled his hair, and he clung to his carrier to protect his face from the stinging wind. He must have fallen asleep, the next thing he was aware of was being laid onto a soft surface, a wet cloth dabbing on his skin, washing the dirt and the mud away. "Sleep, beloved," somebody whispered. And sleep he did.
