Whitefield: Shattered Realms

Prologue

WHITEFIELD: SHATTERED REALMS.

Prologue.

Bright!

The light...

It's too bright!

Ian Whitefield could barely keep his eyes open, as he stood in a vast expanse of bright white light. The space stretched for over an infinitesimal distance. It had no end, nor a beginning.

The teenage boy stood there with fluttering eyes, his palms over his face as he was deluged with the stupendously white space. No matter how much Ian tried, he could not keep his eyes open for even half a second. His eyelashes fluttered incessantly...

He couldn't affirm if he was actually standing or floating; his feet weren't propped on any surface, neither did he feel hung in the air.

He felt weightless, yet heavy. Empty, yet full. Lifeless, yet brimming with life. These contradicting feelings made his head throb like his heart was in it. But then again, he felt serenity at the same time. He was greatly perturbed.

‘Where am I?’

‘What is this place?’

Ian pondered in puzzled thoughts.

‘But, I was just in my room like a minute ago... Am I dreaming?’

As the teenage lad questioned himself over and over again, he heard a sharp cut.

Pa!

Like swiftly cutting a piece of paper in two with a blunt knife, the white space before him tore apart, ushering in an enormous beam of light, its intensity far greater than that of the white space.

Before Ian could even think of shutting his eyes, his stimuli kicked in, his eyelids had clamped shut reflexively.

Over a minute or two, after his eyes closed, serenity and warmth cuddled him softly. His lips curved up to form a sincere smile. It was as though he should remain in that state for eternity.

But then, a mighty gust of wind swept him out of his serene paradise. The gusty wind was relentless, causing him to stagger back and fall on his butt. His eyes shot open in an instant and they went wide in astonishment. His jaw dropped in succession. What he saw almost made him scream!

With a thick whoosh and accompanied my a mighty gust of wind, a red scaled quadrupedal beast with four wings, flew high over him. It had red eyes and claws as fingers. Its length and mass were as that of an adult blue whale. Its scaly nose exuded hot fumes as it opened its mouth, shooting an orange stream of flames.

It was a dragon. A fire breathing dragon!

Ian could do nothing but sit still as he watched the enormous dragon fly over him in its steaming glory.

As the dragon flew over him, Ian was finally able to look at the blue sky. It was red instead, and blue and green... The clouds were of different colors, urging Ian to raise a brow and stand to his feet.

What he saw next left him in a daze.

He was standing on a hill that was completely covered with lush green grasses. Spanned before and behind him, were various other hills with different sizes and shrouded in contradicting colors of grasses. He saw some hills towering so high, they scraped the multicolored clouds.

He saw dragons, griffins and other mythical winged creatures roam the skies like cars on the road. There were other mythical and beautiful creatures on land; in the valley and on the hills.

At first, he was flustered, but now, he was smiling. He had read about these creatures in books, seen them in movies, but never did it cross his mind that he'd be this real with them. Being a fan of the fantasy and Supernatural genre, this was like a dream come true.

‘Huh?’, Ian's brows arched down as he saw a white furred cat walk up to him. He was surprised to see an animal so casual to be in a place like this.

He crouched and extended his right hand at the white cat. Like the cat was expecting that, it rubbed its fur on the hand as it purred.

The feeling of something so tender and fluffy grimace his hand, put a relaxed smile on Ian's face.

At that moment, the once cute and calm cat, hissed menacingly as its white furs stood straight and it took off.

The flustered Ian was about to chase after it, when a loud roar stung his ears. He looked up to see the mighty red dragon turn dark and gloomy, before shooting down from the sky towards him.

‘What the... ?’

The dragon roared again and Ian almost stumbled from the force. Seeing that it was still heading straight for him, the teenage lad turned and took to his heels, sprinting down the green hill. But that was nothing more of a futile effort, as the dragon inched closer with an opened mouth.

‘Shit!’, Ian cursed as the dragon's shadow cast over him like a blanket. In mere seconds, he was overwhelmed with the beast's breath and it swallowed him whole.

Total darkness and silence prevailed...

...

Gasp!

Ian sharply drew air in as he is suddenly jolted awake. His chest expanded and depreciated, his lungs also, as his breathing was fast. His heart thumped widely against his rib cage like a desperate prisoner begging to be set loose. He was on full panic!

After a minute or two, he finally calmed down with easy breaths and clearer thoughts. It wasn't until now that he decided to open his eyes.

His eyelids parted open slowly as he expected to be overwhelmed by another bright rush of light. But to his dismay and shock, what transpired was the complete opposite. He was welcomed into a space of pitch black darkness. The darkness was so thick, his body trembled like it was being squashed in it.

‘What the hell is going on!? This feels too real to be a dream... Am I... dead?’

As puzzled as he was, he couldn't help but ponder the worst case scenario.

‘Maybe this is how dead souls migrate from the physical plane to the metaphysical?’

‘If so, where was that white place I was earlier? And the colorful hills and creatures? Heaven?... But if barely spent a minute there. Wait... Does that mean.... This thick darkness... Have I been judged to hell!?’

Now, he was terrified. His heart beat got louder. Then it dawned on him, he didn't remember dying; this thought helped keep his sanity in check. But he still couldn't help but think that he probably died in his sleep without knowing.

‘This is just a dream... This is just a dream...’

He kept whispering to himself, hoping to wake up at any moment.

Flick!

A ball of fire ignites by his left.

Flick! Flick!

Kindling flames erupts on sticks attached to the walls around him. The dancing orange flames dispelled the darkness and Ian was able to see again.

He was in a prison cell. The walls were made of obsidian stone, bars of steel blocked the entrance. He was kneeling with outstretched arms. His wrists were chained to the wall, his head was bent at the floor. An absurd sense of pain and anguish suddenly embraced him, causing him to perspire greatly.

He was shirtless this time around, with stripe marks etched on his body. Though, he didn't remember going through any torment, his body spoke otherwise.

He also had this weird tattoo of unknown symbols inscribed on the left side of his chest.

He heard the steel bars rattle, so he raised his head up. He fairly saw a tall silhouette standing behind the bars. The next second, the silhouette was inside the cell, just a feet away from him, holding a red flaming sword.

Ian's heart beat skipped.

White fangs appeared on the silhouette's face as it grinned sinisterly, before thrusting its fiery sword into Ian's torso.

And he screamed!

## Author's note ##

This is the first draft of the book, hence it is prone to have a few typographical errors.