Chapter Text
Charlie opened his eyes for the first time in what seemed like years. He had grown sick of the eigengrau that colored the back of his eyelids, occasionally turning a shade of orange when they were shown to light. It offered him relief from the darkness. Relief from his forced rest. Relief from… death.
Charlie's pupils took a second to appreciate the new surroundings, hoarding them, but only allowing the retinas access. His optic nerves starved for something new. They were only just able to steal just a sliver from the retinas to deliver the surroundings to the visual cortex of Charlie's mind.
When the image had somewhat formed for Charlie, it felt as if he'd had just been freed of a headache, or a loud, repetitive, annoying noise, or just scratched an itch in just the right spot. Whatever it was, though it was minimal, it was satisfying. Pleasing. Relieving. As his vision became more and more clear, so did his surroundings, painted in various shades of green. He seemed to have woken up in some sort of… forest?
“What the hell?” Charlie whispered to himself as he finger-combed his shaggy brown hair out of his eyes.
His eyes- his glasses-
“Where are my glasses?” Charlie looked frantically in the dead grass for his glasses, his frosted vision making the task more difficult. His fingers ravaged the lifeless grass, his frustration and panic growing- when all of a sudden-
“Fuck…”
He was filled with a sense of dread as he felt something crack under his left knee.
Charlie frowned with disappointment as he lifted his knee, and picked up his mangled glasses. The right lens had shattered, along with a crack in the rim, the bridge had snapped, and the left temple dangled loosely from the hinge.
“Great. I haven't even been here for two minutes and I've already broken my glasses. This isn't going to suck whatsoever!”
While Charlie was busy being distraught by his broken specs, a small voice he hadn't noticed before grew louder. The voice seemed vaguely… similar to another voice he had heard in the past.
“Find them.”
“Find them.”
“Find them.”
“Find them.”
“Find them.”
“Find them.”
“FIND THEM!!”
The voice gradually crescendoed and grew more ferocious as Charlie failed to recognize its beckoning. He suddenly realized how loud the voice had become. “‘Them’?” The voice suddenly stopped as the thought crossed Charlie's mind. Charlie groaned as he carefully pushed the broken lens out of the rim to avoid getting his eye potentially cut, and reluctantly put on his damaged glasses. It was hard to find a place for them to sit correctly and comfortably, but once he eventually found a spot, he began to inspect himself with what little clear vision he had. He was wearing a navy green corduroy jacket, with a black t-shirt. He wore leggings layered underneath cargo shorts, and black fingerless gloves. Black combat boots and a bright yellow paracord survival bracelet served as the finishing touches. The bracelet included a whistle, a fire starter, and an undetermined amount of rope when unraveled. A small strange charm in the shape of a sun with a semi-translucent yellow stone in the center. The bracelet was out of place compared to the rest of the outfit, but despite that- he was thankful.
The voice began to scream again.
“FIND THEM”
“FIND THEM”
“FIND THEM”
“I'm getting to that! Jesus christ- who are you? Where are you?” Once again, the voice ceased. Charlie swore to himself. “Fucking imagining things…”
Charlie looked at his surroundings. The trees- which he swore were green before- were rid of leaves or pine needles. He approached one of the trees, and he noticed rigid lines of white and grey. He swiped the tree with his finger tips. They had been colored with black residue.
Ash…
“The trees must've been burned- but what caused it? Where is the fire? How did they all burn within minutes- without me noticing?” Charlie removed his glasses- maybe they affect the way he sees colors? He saw virtually no difference- minus the change in quality. He put the glasses back on, and again, nothing changed other than the quality.
“Am I high or something? Wh…I- I don't understand-”
“FIND THEM”
Charlie stumbled backwards in response to being jumpscared by this voice. Charlie felt obligated to find whoever ‘them’ was, but was given no information to go off of. What is ‘them’? A group? A person? A thing? Charlie turned, looking for something- anything that would give him answers or help him find ‘them’- when his wishes were answered.
A path of grass that remains alive grabbed his attention. Without a second thought, he followed it.