Alone

Disclaimer: - I don’t own any of the characters of The Mummy, I’m just borrowing them to play with.

Dedication: - I hope you feel better soon Sheri.

Author’s Notes: - This is a very short chapter as it is from Jonathan’s point of view, but a hopefully longer chapter is to follow shortly.

Alone Chapter 12

Jonathan was confused and frightened. He was so hot he felt as if he was burning alive, his blood was liquid fire in his veins that consumed him from the inside. His whole body seemed to throb in time to his heartbeat, his limbs heavy, his mind feeling disconnected, disembodied almost.

He knew he didn’t want to wake up, he didn’t remember why but he knew that something awful was waiting for him in the waking world, but he had little peace in the twilight world he now inhabited either. Dreams, nightmares, memories confused, jagged, raw all swirled around him dragging him into themselves. Sensations seemed to be heightened noises, colours, smells, touches setting his nerve endings alight.

Memories merged with nightmares and Jonathan began to forget what was real and what was imagined or out of place. He’d be alone running through the stone corridors and chambers of Hamunaptra being chased, but he’d know that what pursued him wasn’t the monster Imhotep, but a more human creature, one he feared even more then the ancient high priest. He’d be running but feeling "him" everywhere, knowing that he could never escape because his tormentor was all around him. Still though Jonathan would run knowing that when he stopped he’d be caught, and if he were caught it would be the worst thing imaginable. Inside Jonathan realised that he knew what would happen to him when he was captured, but he also knew it was so bad that he didn’t want to think about it, to acknowledge it, so he pushed it deep down within himself and turned away from it.

Sometimes in his dream world he’d hear voices calling to him. Often they’d be distant and indistinct, muffled and beyond his reach. Sometimes though he’d take a risk and reach out for them, wanting some contact with the real world, wanting to reach out to someone because he was so lonely and ever since he was a child Jonathan had never liked to be alone.

There were three voices; they were familiar to him he knew that because he wasn’t afraid of them. When he heard them Jonathan felt almost safe.

One was soft, gentle and full of sadness, when it spoke his name he could hear tears and dismay and it made him feel sad too and guilty that he was causing the owner of the gentle voice pain.

The second voice was a little gruff sometimes, it tried to cajole him, yet other times it too was gentle and would whisper in his ear like the first voice so often did. Jonathan was unsure sometimes how he felt about this voice. Sometimes he would feel resentment and wished the voice would leave and then he could be alone with the first soft, gentle voice, but more often he found strength in the second voice’s tones.

Then a third voice had come to whisper to him out of the heat and the darkness. This voice was rich and deep. It often spoke strange words in a language that rolled almost like music from the speaker’s lips. He liked to hear that melodic cadence, it soothed him and he could lose himself in its gentle rise and fall. This was the voice that Jonathan liked to listen to most of all. It wrapped itself around him and lulled him. He knew that while he could hear it that the thing that stalked him couldn’t come near him. When he was in the embrace of those exotic tones he was safe.

It wouldn’t last though. The burning heat that was devouring him would reach out and snatch him away plunging him back into his fractured world of nightmares where the monster was waiting for him, waiting to touch him and hurt him again.