I died. And yet I didn’t. Death was not what I expected. There was no tunnel, no light, no choir of angels nor a pearly gate. I found myself floating, untethered. Drifting, slipping in and out of dreams that may have been visions or perhaps glimpses of what transpired while I slept...
They, whether visions or dreams, felt life-like, sometimes stimulating a particular sense – sight, sound, scent, taste, or touch, sometimes singularly and sometimes all at once.
At times I tasted the sweet taste of nectar upon my tongue. At others, the tempting taste of lust berries until I was awash in ecstasy, memories of my time on the island with my human companions slipping through my thoughts or my alien lover, Isshu, memories of pain mingled with pleasure flooding my nervous system. And Prel, his bestial strength and the violence within him calling to my own primal needs.
Often, I felt the flutter of wings, or the brush of gentle touches from my brethren, the giant butterflies whom we named the beach we had washed up upon. At others, I could hear and feel the warm breezes upon which they floated or hear the waves and smell the ocean.
And more than once I could see the island through their multifaceted eyes, watching as the seasons turned. Summer to autumn. Autumn to winter. Winter becoming spring. And spring changing slowly back to summer. It seemed I watched the years pass, glimpsing changes both subtle and momentous. I watched as great storms raged across the isle. I observed as a band of the lizard folk who had captured us confront Prel and I watched as they lit great pyres for their dead the next day. I watched As Isshu floated listless in the pool where we had consummated our needs and lusts on so many occasions. I saw everything. Or perhaps the visions were the product of vivid hallucinations. Sometimes I glimpsed visions of the strange cavern I had discovered and the crystals within it. It seemed important, somehow, but the thought would slip away before I could solve its riddle and my memories would take over. The cave we’d discovered and taken shelter in. I could see the face of Emma and feel her soft kisses upon the tips of my nipples. I could taste her sex on my tongue and feel the passion growing within me. I could hear her moans as I fed from between her fleshy thigh and as she fed from me… at those moments, the secrets of the island faded into obscurity as I was, once more, cocooned in slumber, sleeping through what I suspected here not mere days, but months perhaps. Perhaps longer…
More seasons passed. I began to feel again. Not the sensations caused by my visions, but something more real. I felt my heart beat. My pulse throb. I felt the stirrings of both pleasure and pain as my flesh and bone began to miraculously heal, the vestiges of the monster that I had been turned into upon the Eye of Thermisto before this never-ending dream had taken me…
And then, everything changed and I awoke...
Or rather, I rejoined the physical world once more, encased in a hard shell-like substance. Panicking, I fought, the instinct for survival setting in. Eventually, exhausted, I had torn enough of the translucent encasing to allow air in for me to breathe. Spent, I simply lay there, waiting for my energy to return enough to extract myself from my confines, trying not to think about how similar this was to a recent memory of me being trapped in what can only be described a giant test tube.
Surprisingly, I felt no pain, although hunger was another matter. The chrysalis, for that is what it reminded me of, was full of viscous fluid that smelled both sweet and sour. It clung to my naked flesh as I sat slowly up, my limbs weak, atrophied from my long… hibernation. Without thinking, I dipped my fingers into it, and licked them clean. It fed my hunger, and I feasted on it, feeling slightly rejuvenated after I’d had my fill of the warm sticky goop (there being no other word to accurately describe it).
“Quel étrange nouveau chapitre nous attend? ” I wondered out loud, my voice so soft that I could barely hear my own words.
What a strange new chapter, indeed…
My exertions having exhausted me, I lay back and closed my eyes. This time there were no dreams, at least none that I could remember. When I awoke, I felt renewed. Stronger. I fed once more upon the thick liquid that filled the chrysalis until I felt sated. And then I fought my way free of the now broken shell, eventually falling to my knees, naked and dripping with the nurturing goop, upon what seemed to be a bed of thick moss-like vegetation.
As I lay there, butterflies settled around me. The very same that we had named the beach after. I reached out, not with my hands, but with my senses. I could feel them. Their senses, emotions, even their thoughts, primitive as they might be. I sent my own, communing with the warm breeze caressing my naked flesh I stood once more, unsteady at first, but eventually finding my equilibrium.
And then, I explored. I was near the cliffs. Isshu’s grotto lay behind me and the beach upon which we arrived after being shipwrecked before. I chose the beach. I was not yet ready for a reunion with my alien lover. Perhaps I would never be. I moved slowly. My muscles were weak with disuse. Besides, there was no hurry. I sensed that more than just weeks had passed since I’d fallen into my silk-encased slumbers. More than just months. Years. How many? I could not guess. What had happened to my companions? To Prel? To Isshu? I had no way of knowing other than discovering their fates for myself.
The sojourn to the beach took much longer than it once might have. I was still weak. Halfway there it began to rain. A warm, pleasant rain. I found a basin filled with water and regarded myself. I had healed. The terrible wounds inflicted upon me were no longer visible. Not even scars remained. Perhaps the liquid I had been encased in had some sort of healing qualities? I had no way of knowing.
I miss my wings. I mused, more of a thought than anything else. I felt the butterflies sigh in response. A sigh of both sadness and hope. Perhaps they would grow back one day. Or perhaps I would remain as I once had been. No longer a hybrid of Lepidoptera and homosapien, but simply Olivia Delacroix. Only time would tell.
Eventually, I came to the beach where was had set up our camp. Of Emma, Bull, Gavin, and Carter there were no signs. In fact, there was very little sign that we had ever set our mark upon the beach. I spend the afternoon searching, tempted by the sight of the berries that we had discovered and feasted upon, opening us up to so many pleasures. Eventually, I grew hungry and dined upon several handfuls and lost myself in a haze of sensuality and a different kind of hunger. It seemed natural to lay upon the soft grass above the beach and finger myself into oblivion for a time. So recently awoken from death only to seek a much smaller death once more. La petite mort indeed.
Eventually I began a trek down the beach towards the cave that Carter had discovered so long ago. I found it easily enough and made my way inside. The strange glyphs still lined the wall, the language still undecipherable. I memory of the strange crystal-filled cavern and Dorofeyev’s diary stirred within me. Other memories as well. Less pleasant ones. My time as a captive upon the Eye of Thermisto where I had been tortured and…
“Non,” I murmured, scrubbing my eyes with the palms of my hand as if I could simply erase the nightmares that darkened my thoughts. I had died and had been reborn. If my broken body could heal, so could my broken mind.
I slipped outside once more, my gaze drifting across the sands and out to sea. The clouds had turned dark since I’d found the beach once more. A storm was coming. Already I could feel the air growing chill and the wind picking up. I decided to ride it out as we had once before in the safety of the small shelter I had just vacated. And so I waited, listening to the wind howl and the thunder crash for what seemed like hours, huddled and suddenly feeling very alone. I ended up curled up and crying, the enormity of all that had happened flooding over me like the waves that ravaged the shore outside.
Eventually, it passed. Both the storm and my despair and I emerged once more into a world of wan sunlight and gentle breezes. Overhead I heard a bird cry out. An albatross. A sign of good fortune if I remembered correctly. My thoughts drifted to my time on The Golden Dove. I wondered what had become of her and her crew. I wondered what had become of Professor Waites as well. Had he survived to return to London? Had he set out upon another expedition of discovery or did he now dodder away his days in the great library with his colleagues reminiscing about his travels…
Once again, I gazed out to sea, lost in my thoughts. Perhaps I should turn inland once more and seek out Isshu. If he still lived. Some impulse, however, stilled my feet. Intuition, perhaps. Or ennui. Which, I was unsure. I sat down suddenly, the sand cool upon my naked bottom, and watched the clouds as gentle winds chased them from the sight, the sky turning from grey to blue, the breeze from cool to warm. And then a strange sight appeared. At first I thought it might be a bird. Perhaps it was lost, thrown off its course by the storm. As I observed it, however, it grew in size. Non. Not a bird. An airship. My heart raced. Hope mixed with fear. Was I to be rescued? More importantly, did I wish to be? I was no longer who I had been. I was as much of this island as I was of my past life the cities of Europe. I had been scrubbed clean of civilization. I laughed softly, standing, shading my eyes with my hand so I could see more clearly. What would they see? A savage woman standing naked upon the beach. A curiosity, obviously. Perhaps I would be better off taking shelter once more in the cave, hidden from view.
Perhaps…
And yet, I stood my ground as the airship grew closer. Looming on the horizon, growing larger with each passing minute until I could see figures moving about the deck as the ship slowed and began to drift downwards, settling upon the ocean. I began to walk towards the edge of the beach as several small craft were lowered into the ocean. Soon there was a trio of small boats making their way through the swell of the waves. It was too late to turn back now, so I simply waited, watching as they set foot upon the sands of Butterfly Beach for the first time, tears rolling slowly down my cheeks.
FIN
