|My Name Is B
Author: BlueEyesAndDreaming PM
A "What-if?" story about Bill, I suppose. Contains spoilers and what-not. T for a reference to blood.Rated: Fiction T - English - Supernatural - Words: 396 - Reviews: 3 - Published: 02-04-10 - Status: Complete - id: 5718166
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
The crack of the man's skull reverberated around the dark walls of the narrow chasm for what seemed like eternity as he hit the stone ground. Blood quickly began to haemorrhage from the back of his skull and pool around his head and shoulders.
The man's eyes flitted open and closed uselessly. There was no light where he lay. Only pure, untainted darkness. His thoughts slowly staggered into a comprehensible form. There'd been…eyes? Yes. Yes, he'd looked into someone's eyes. There was water. A bridge…on water. A pier. And he'd heard something. A name. His name.
But when did he hear his name? Where was the pier? Whose eyes did he look into? Why couldn't he recall anything? Why was he being denied his memories? Why did he remember nothing?
With a small, nearly silent gasp, he breathed his last painful, stuttering breath and succumbed to the engulfing darkness. He died.
He opened his eyes.
He looked out at the glittering ocean from the stone pier. He turned and gazed at his surroundings. The pier he was standing at was connected to a small grassy outcrop that was dominated by a single, massive tree.
"Odd." He thought, as he turned to face the ocean. "I died. I remember dying…" In shock, he stared down at his body. His body was…non-existent. A light-blue glow outlined his face, arms, and torso. The glow faded to nothing at his hips, removing all traces of his lower regions. His new body was also translucent. Located on his chest was tribal-like design of a single staring eye.
"I'm...I'm a…" his voice halted. He knew what he was. At least, part of him recalled knowing things, beyond the pier, the eye, and the name. He screwed up his pale blue face in effort. "A ghost. Yes, that's what it's called. Ghost."
He continued to look out at the ocean. He gazed upon every wave, every ripple, every trait. Took it in, thought about it, turned it over in his mind, and made the memory his own. Another memory appeared in his conscious thoughts as gently as a feather after some hours.
He looked up at the sky, and saw the beautiful moon for the first time. "My name..." he whispered.
"My name is B."