Are you ready for a taste of Riven? A bunch of Facebookers sure were the other night, and it sort of occurred to me that I've been leaving the cool kids who have been creeping on me from the start (aka blogger followers) the little juicy piece I've been sharing. Soooo, without another moment to waste, check out the snippet of Riven!
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"You came back," she said, a hint of surprise in her tone. Her red lips spread into a small, yet bright smile. "I knew you'd see me again."
"Where are we?" I waved a hand through the water, keeping my eyes on my carbon copy. "Is this all a dream?"
Her smile widened. "Not exactly."
"Then what i
s it?" A shock ran through my body. "Am I... am I dead?"
A flash of something, sorrow perhaps, ran through her eyes. She placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. "That's your choice."
"Oh, so there's a choice now if I die? Not sure if Death will like me messing up his collections roster," I muttered sarcastically. A heaviness was beginning to seep into my body, the all too familiar sensations of life blossoming on my skin. Bruises I hadn't even realized I was missing rapidly pooled in patches over my body, each one like a bee sting.
The lovelier version of me remained unharmed, hand still on my shoulder. Either she had one hell of an iron stomach, or she was used to seeing bruises spawn on people in record time. Then again, if this was all my imagination, maybe I made her up to be stronger than me.
"Essallie, look below," she told me. Turning my gaze below the both of us, all I saw was an endless stretch of black. A mystery, hiding secrets far beyond my reach. "What do you see?"
"Am I supposed to be looking for something specific?" I asked. "You know, Atlantis, the remains of the Titanic..."
"No, you idiot." The prettier version of me snapped, eyes blazing to a deep red. "Look harder."
I took a second look at the black expanse below. At first, nothing but darkness stared back at me, and I had half the nerve to call out my copy on messing with my head. But a closer look brought out shapes, features of a person, chained to the ocean floor.
Without words, I knew who it was. How could I not know that hair, the set of those shoulders?
I looked up at my copy in horror. "What is he doing here?"
"You have a choice," she whispered, a grin of pure malice spreading across her face, her enjoyment barely containable. She raised a hand and pointed above, then pointed back to the very thing ripping my heart in two. "Swim upward and save yourself, or swim down and save him."
"And if I choose none?"
"Then you are more foolish than I took you for."
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