Oculus

Young soul, the voice, the voice... are you awake?

Floating on the edge of the fences of the universe, royal blue energies slowing in haste around the fluttering, fluttering little thing. In and out of dark. Eyelids. Eyelids blinking, eyelids closing. Eyelashes. Pupils. They can see the amber colors in the things called eyelids, dilated pupils. Floating on a water mattress. A water mattress...a new word. Eyelids. Blinking. Closing. Water. Amber. Pupils. Floating. Water. Mattress. 

I am going back to the rest. Leave me.

Eyes closing, an odd nose emitted from the throat. Laugh. Hands, touching and pulling. Feeling. Misty hands ease the soul's body into their hands, pulling them through the tears and paper cuts of the world. The soul is a light feather on the wind, drifting and drifting to the destination. They are falling now. The soul awakes, his hands grasping unseen, lightweight ropes to pull himself back up. His legs swing back and forth in rhythm as he climbs, giving him leverage as he scrambles upward.  The stars around him shudder and shake with tension. 

I do not need ropes, do I? 

The soul walks on the arch of colors--a path under his bare feet--as his physical body formulates and takes its form. I am a he, and my name is Oculus. Cobalt energy twists around his pale arms like serpents. His milky, wide eyes stare to the skies, fixating on the souls, old and young, blankly walking to  the towering arcs of star matter. They must be returning to the real world. From here he could see the labels they were ambling to. Female, male. America, Europe, China, Japan...words fight themselves his larynx, straining to get out. What is this? Am I sickening? 

"How to defeat the universe," a growl from curved lips, "I am no one important. But I wish not to return." Oculus had never spoke aloud in such an odd language, but he understood it nonetheless. Perhaps if I dream of it, it will come true. He envisions clear wings sprouting from his back and carrying him to wherever he desires. Oculus' new wings guide him to the soul pathways, his lips slightly apart in irritated wonder. The universe was endless, but they were all blinded. The tightropes of the universe were all compacted so close together, a series of organized apparitions to force them to return. It was then, at that moment, that his eyes latched onto a girl walking to one of the arcs as if she were sleepwalking. Why the hell do I care...? Perhaps I knew her in the other world.

Oculus could not look away, no matter how hard he tried. His wings shoot upward, tendrils of his blue energy weaving through the expanse of the universe to reach out to her. 

Victory runs in your veins, but you are out of time.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, GIRL? DO NOT GO--" Oculus' wings snap off as if cut by scissors, feathers falling off one by one as the misty hands begin to grasp and tug at his arms, more dominant than before. I must rise, rise rise...must stay conscious. Oculus knew the vultures were circling around him, tearing at his flesh like the hungry bastards they were. The gun and ammo is right by his side, inches out of his reach and all he had to do was grasp it and load his gun. His fingers slip away, one by one, and then his hands and arms as his energies surround him like a growing hurricane, tugging the girl in with him. The girl's foggy eyes open wide, pupils enlarging and then dilating as the energy courses down her arms and legs. 

Do not doubt me! I will not negotiate with you! Oculus' voice shakes the universe, and with it the stars as they collapse into seizures, convulsing like a man in the throes of death, an unavoidable heart attack. It was as if the universe was devoid of any power for centuries, and now finally the lights turned themselves on to illuminate the truly godless dimension. He was only a weak soul, but his visions to warp the collective unconsciousness changed the game on its rapidly spinning bicycle wheels. The girl's breathing syncs in with the whispers of the universe, falling and rising. Oculus could not fall. She could not form words, but he knew she knew not what was going on.

Wandering souls began to turn, stopping on the crossways to set their lost eyes upon the man who dared to shake the stars. They understood as much as he did. And yet some of them still continued to walk to the return without batting an eye. His eyes stare deep into hers, trying to find some sort of connection or at the very least the reason why he bothered to restrict her from returning. He saw a man laying in white sheets, an IV of blood by his side and a mask on his nose and lips. A woman stood in the same room, her stormy eyes staring out of the window. He was dying when he had last returned. The woman just have been her. Oculus had abandoned her last time, and he could not again.

You cannot rely on the universe to do everything for you; they are fooling us!

His body began to shiver in a bout of coughing. He was using too much of his reservoirs of energy. The girl's face slanted into that of a snarling animal at the thought of being so blind. Here, I will help. She allows the energy to use her as a host, keeping the hurricane alive while directing tendrils outwards to brush themselves upon the confused souls. They had to understand, had to be brought alive again.

Who are you? Who are you? Who are you?

None of them seem to answer. They have all lost their sense of identity, stolen from their very hands. No imitation of angels could save them now. Their gauzy figures shimmer as their physical bodies show themselves to their owners, eyes of clear white opening one by one at the comforting touch of the cobalt tendrils. 

Think again, for you are all foolish.

The wispy blues of the billows upsurge, connecting to the hazy doorways to the real world. Oculus' breath flutters in his throat as the feeling of asphyxiation overtakes his throat and lungs. His eyes widen. But I do not have a true physical body yet. Oculus sheds the illusion forcing its might upon him, his body becoming elevated in the air as blue flame licks up at the edges of his conscious. His own energies betray him, pulling him in in torrents to the return. The girl lay suspended in the air behind him, the energy from him abandoning her. Had she exhausted so quickly, and so soon--what are you thinking Oculus, gods damn you! 

WHERE IS YOUR FAITH NOW?

The blue flames lapped at his fingers and head, a dainty little cat easing their thirst. Oculus' milky eyes reflected the corners of the universe; the star matter, the energies, the shining lights, and the flames eating him alive. A flash of yellow color shot by Oculus' peripheral vision. The sudden shrill of  another soul's amber energies pierced the blue energies, cutting off its source. He had mistaken it for a falling star at first. 

"I could never have woken up without you. I...I thank you, stranger." The flames extinguish upon the death of Oculus' blue energies. Oculus stares deeply into the soul's eyes. The world voice sounded awfully familiar, as if he knew this soul. Oculus only inclined his head in turn, his physical body offering a simple smile. What of the girl, though? She must have been transferred back to the rest, only to awake in a century. All that, for nothing? Yes, nothing. I am truly foolish. He turns his physical body back to the fellow souls staring at he and Oculus in awe.

"Perhaps awakening was a bad choice. We only have one choice, and that is to reincarnate." Oculus stares grimly ahead, his eyes slanting downward. I would like to dream of something different. He could not turn to face the stranger who had risked their energies for him. Nor could he look back at his world beloved, now a puppet on strings. The misty hands pull him back through the tear in which he was thrown into in the beginning.

He did not fight against them.