Have you ever been unconscious for a lengthy period of time? Perhaps you have been in a coma before, if you have then you will be able to understand what I mean when I say that I was in the black.
An insurmountable amount of time had passed, I knew this. The flicker of candle light, chorused by the sounds of sniffling, the sickly pull that only comes from human flesh being sewed, brought my estranged mind back to me, back to the present. My limbs felt frozen and bound. There was a good deal of pain around my neck, it felt like I had a collar of molten iron choking my skin, pulling me head down. I tried to make a sound but only managed a ragged wheeze.
The sniffling stopped and then a body moved over me. It was an old man, a white man with a wispy beard that horded patches of pink skin. He looked diseased with a single glistening gem of mucus hanging from the tip of his nose. He was either a super serious seamstress or he was a back street surgeon of some description. I closed my mouth and continued to pull in each and every drag of air through my itchy nose. I couldn’t even crinkle my nostrils to get it. But to be honest the itch was the first thing I had felt in a long time. Perversely I didn’t mind it.
The man wore a glass screen that was lowered across the front of his eyes, it looked to be attached to a slender metallic frame that fastened around the circumfrence of his head like a crown, the levers and springs on display made me feel uneasy, but what the glass did left altogether a different impression. From where I lay the effect was comical as his eyes bulged back at me; one blue, one brown. Making an indistinguishable grunt he once again disappeared from view and continued to stitch and sniff.
Now I knew what was going on, I was being stitched back together like some mad scientist’s monster! Bastards must have dug me up and chopped me into pieces! Bastards…but still, you would have done the same, wouldn’t you? I know I would have.
It was the year 1555 when I crawled back into that hole, how long I had been ‘dead’ for was anyone’s guess. And, call me sentimental, but I felt like I was back home; back in Mother England. I believe I could even hear the distant howls of the rain in the wind. Whichever way you see it, you had to look on the bright side of things. I had been collected together for a reason. Whatever the reason it was a reason worth living for again.
Henry Game had been respawned.
Good news for me, probably, bad news for others, definitely.