"Creation" Chapter 3. Fantasy Vision

A/N: I hope the surprise was a success. This chapter is a bit short, but the next one, I promise, will contain more paragraphs and events

Word count: 3,4K

Warnings: not much detailed descriptions of nudity, voyeurism, brief mentions of murder, death and violence, swear words, a pinch of adult thoughts (a veeeery small pinch, bunnies...)

🎧 Sleeping At Last — As If in a Dream

The splash of troubled waters. The glare of a yawning crescent moon. The chirping of forest dwellers. Everything fades and becomes silent in one second.

Only the curves of your body remain.

A graceful neck – and marks of strangulation. A sloping shoulders – and cuts. A thin waist – and a healed wound. A narrow back – and traces of a whip. A rounded hips – and a fresh scar of a knife wound. Hair falling in waves. Shiny drops running down the skin. Plump lips closed in fear...

Noa can not take his eyes off you. No matter how hard he tries.

Your body is exhausted, but despite all the pain, all the suffering and torment you have endured, your body radiates femininity. A completely different femininity than that of the females in the clan. You are a ringing echo, a blossoming human girl. And of course, you are different from the female chimps. From the top of your head to the tips of your toes.

Noa intrigued by you.

***

It had already happened when Noa first met people on the way he was taking. It had interested him then, as everything unknown interests him. Then another human girl had disappeared from sight as suddenly as she had appeared, taking a different way. It was regularity. People need other people, they seek out colonies of sane survivors – and they live completely different lives. It had been an accident then, for rethink the present.

And then Noa could not imagine that his path would once again intertwine with the path of the echo. With the path of the human girl who does not disappear, but remains.

Because this human girl cannot go back to people — after all, only a painful, perverted death awaits her there.

It was a measure of coexistence then. To have a shared experience, to say goodbye, to exchange the last important words – and never meet again because of different aspirations. Different truths. Then the echo went to other echoes. Noa hopes she found what she was searching.

But you will not living to next to apes, among echoes like you. You are going to live with apes. That complicates everything.

What are you aspirating for? What is your truth?

Certainly, that you were not aspirating for a life among all that was alien. And Noa has already learned part of your truth from your eloquent, caustic gestures. Noa does not condemn you at all, and even more so, does not feel offended — how else can you defend yourself?

Back then, Noa was solve people out without understanding them – and that interested him as a conundrum. As a task that requires a strategic solution. Now, that interests him in a different way.

All, that Noa knows about you — is your name. Trying to solve you out yields nothing but vague guesses. Maybe it will be like this in days, weeks, months. No answers to questions. No one tactics help get closer to you. Honesty breeds more doubts in you. Acts of kindness make you distance yourself. Care makes you choke on sobs. What did they do to you in the place you managed to escape from? What did those from whom Noa saved you do to you? What did your past do to you?..

Understand you — is to choose the path that leads into the unknown.

Noa tries to understand you, and when he succeeds, even just a little — it is attracting.

It is tempting. And it is impossible to resist.

Your fragility enchants Noa. And it is unlike anything he is ever experienced before.

Noa justifies himself by that he is obliged to protect you, so fragile — and only for this reason is he glued to you, as if sticky resin.

Knowing that you were defenseless against all the dangers lurking in the light and in the shadows, that could break you again, Noa followed you. The whole way you traveled, he protected you. Even if without your knowledge. Otherwise, you would not have allowed it. If you knew that Noa was coming for you, you would again break your voice in begging to leave you, not to touch you, not to look... Not to care...

But who knows, maybe there are other ruthless men hunting for you?

Having learned how vast and multifaceted the world outside his home was, Noa now explored the forests and plains to find lost, dusty knowledge. These were the remains of human science, human creativity, and human culture. A legacy, not worthy of oblivion.

Staying late one evening, Noa saw you. Wounded. Consisting of a scarlet mess and hopeless rags.

You shook and cried, scraping your skin against the thorns of the bush. And the scavengers stalked your trail. Noa had heard everything, all their foul intentions. Noa had heard that they had decided to use you, torture you to death — but before, fulfilling every lustful desire. Not the desires that were part of courtship and mating rituals. Not the desires that offered fidelity and asked for reciprocity, no. Obsessive, base desires. The human curses they spat out, and the way they guffaw as they discussed their cruel pleasures was incomprehensibly vile.

Noa did not believe that someone's mind could be so corrupted. But they reveled in the upcoming reprisal on you — and Noa could not remain idly.

Noa learned how senselessly cruel the world can be, when two monsters threw you into a ravine.

Prepared to attack and heard you fall, Noa scolded himself for hesitating. That, you did not die there from your broken bones right away — miracle.

Attacking them, who mocked you, taking away your almost cut-off life, Noa seemed himself like a monster.

Noa hated himself for the way you saw him that night. Killing two and looking like an sinister angered shadow.

Their dead bodies were a nightmare. Even as they took turns trying to deal Noa the killing blow — he did not want to kill them. He wanted to send them back to where they came from. To keep their smell from being in a place where the soles of their boots should not be. When Noa's palms turned crimson, he regretted.

But if Noa had not done this, he himself now would be dead.

And you would be dead. But first — vulgarized.

Why did they want to abuse you, huddled against the ground and cobblestones with hopelessness frozen in your pupils, so filthily? Noa thinks that killing two scavengers — is not the same as ruining two souls. But the justification still seems insufficient, guilt scratches at him from within.

Guilt that also for that now he is no better than them in your eyes.

That is why, as soon as you regain consciousness, you always recoil from Noa, like from fire. You are afraid of what you saw that night. You are afraid of what you ran away from - and you are afraid of where you ended up. Fear takes root in you.

Something tells Noa — someone from the past you left behind can still cause you irreparable harm.

And you will not be able to save yourself alone, running away and trying to be brave. Your trembling, the tears shining in the corners of your eyes and your racing heartbeat are noticeable even in the short moments when you forget about everything that scares you. But then you go to the lake alone, and the evening falls on the forest like a darkening blanket. What would you do if the events of that ill-fated night were repeat? What would you do if Noa had not followed you like a silent shadow again? You are so improvident, that Noa would like to say everything he thinks to your face.

The determination to do so would have prevailed - if at that second when Noa thought of everything that could happen, you had not hastily started to take off your clothes.

If Noa came to you now, you would dismiss his behavior as instincts.

Taking a deep breath, Noa straightens his back. Every his muscle, every vain tightens.

As you untie the scraps of your shirt, Noa nods to himself, remembering your recent words in the bird pen. This is why you came here. As you pull down the shreds of your pants, leaving the robe he gave you on the sand, Noa approaches on two legs, bristling his fur. To protect you if necessary.

Lying to himself — is shameful and pointless. The excuse Noa gives for every thought that comes to mind, sounds out of place in his own head.

***

Even if there was no need to protect you, even if you were not hurt and could handle it yourself, Noa could have not leave. The grass around Noah’s feet is tangled in the coastal grass — and as much as he wants to turn around, walk down the beaten path, and go back to his usual business, leaving you alone in the darkness, — he cannot leave.

Noa admires you as a graceful, flawless work of art. But the admiration is mixed with something else, unknown and inexpressible, beyond any definition Noa knows, no matter what he tries to find.

When you take off your shirt, soaked in blood and healing ointment — Noa gets on all fours, furrowed his brows and swallows.

So as not to lose balance.

If you turned even an inch, Noa would see your firm breasts.

When you enter the water, Noa cannot control his breathing. The world freezes, everything seems like an unimportant backdrop. You turn around, covering with your hands, looking up at the trees that are growing in a solid wall. Flowing strands of hair fall on your collarbones. The smoothness of your hands and wrists framing your breasts takes the ground under his feet. Standing right beyond the treetops, Noa gasps for air, unable to stop the mad knock that pierces his ribs.

You appear to him absolutely naked.

This should not have happened. Fate is playing tricks on him, like a fool.

Although, why would fate fool Noa, if he had already fooled himself?

Allowing himself to stare too long, Noa chides himself. But it is no use. He cannot move, mesmerized by you. The way the water embraces you — so pure, so vulnerable, — takes Noa back to the moment when he once saw human art celebrating beauty.

Drawned in pencil wonderful woman with a fish tail, holding a baby in her arms. Also with a fish tail, but small. She seems to be looking out of a drawing, overflowing with the joy of motherhood. Peace, care and awe emanate from the graphite strokes. The immaculate beauty of the moment envelops the paper, barely touched by time. The woman holds the child in such a way that the loving, tender touch seems not depicted, but the most that is real...

Must be, people call these amazing entities mermaids.

This is a myth. People have invented many myths. Good and evil. Instruct and absurd. Seductive.

Noa thought, he knew what that word meant. Delightful lie, that could never come true.

But seeing you now, Noa realizes that he was wrong — what else were you now, if not a myth in reality?

As you dive under a boulder, Noa imagines the how the azure scales on your feet and ankles shimmering. How the fins wriggling along the lines of your body. You are surrounded by an aura of magic and innocence. Noa feels like if he takes one more breath — you will immediately dissipate into a mist. That kind that spreads along the surface of the water in the morning.

In the spring, the evenings here are especially long. They come in all shades of pink, red, and gold — before the darkness takes the place of light. Noa sees you shining, wrapped in the rising stars. As bright, as if the brightest hour of day still lasts.

Can Noa look at you like this? Can Noa gaze at you, in the spilled moonlight, like this?

Can Noa admire you?

Swearing under his teeth, Noa curses himself for what he feels.

You circling like an underwater nymph. Hiding, you disappear like a fairytale vision. Noa exhales awe that permeates him to the bones, to the heart and to the pain.

Above the water only your eyes peering into the april twilight.

Noa looks at you from a distance of two outstretched, clasped hands.

You heard a presence. And you were scared.

Looking for a place further away, a place to hide, you swam up to Noa. And you did not realize it yourself. Cause you do not feel his smell.

Breathing in and breathing out, Noah smells you too clearly - you smell like lake coolness, fragrant flowers, and something else... Something that seeps from his nostrils straight into his consciousness. Something that confuses.

Your concern? That, should be, what it is.

You are truly worried that someone will attack you again. Hearing every sound, feeling every touch, you are afraid of new blows and encroachments. But Noa voluntarily laid responsibility for you on his shoulders, how can he not keep you?

No way. From now on, Noa will do anything, to make sure no one dares to even think about breaking you. In any way. No matter what it takes.

You — mermaid, almost caught in a net. You — flower, almost crushed to crumbly. But Noa would not let anyone catch you and crush you. Not for anything.

Noa assures himself, that he does this out of an unspoken duty. Out of principles. Out of justice, after all.

But Noa's thoughts are in mess.

Noa's thoughts are feverish. Like he is gravely ill, like he is dying. Like Noa knows he is going to have a disappointing outcome. And it does. Noa places his hand where his heart beats — where the memory of your weakening touch is still fresh.

To think that, Noa touched you. His hands touched almost every curve of your body — almost everything he is so absorbed in right now. It seems unreal now, when you are seems like a maddening miraculous illusion.

You are beautiful. More beautiful than anyone or anything, that Noa has ever seen.

You are so beautiful, that Noa feels, like in you merged all the things that can inspire veneration.

And if all the thoughts that flashed through Noa's head were obvious, not requiring comprehension and acceptance — with this thought, filling his mind quickly and irrevocably, Noa cannot come to terms. You charmed Noa at your first meeting, despite the circumstances. Covered in blood and dirt, tearful and scared, but trying to fight... Holding you in his arms, Noa saw the fading glow. You no longer hoped for anything, and the glow faded into a lonely ember.

That morning, Noa hoped that the glow emanating from you would not fade, but flare up brighter — but Noa was not prepared for the fact that now, washed from all troubles, healing, you shine even more unbearably beautifully.

Noa close his eyes so you don't blind him, like a fallen, blessed star.

Must not, Noa must not look at you. For now it is only the absorption of your image — but later, Noa is sure, he will think of you something, that he will desire and be ashamed of. Something, that is an inherent part of nature intent.

Noa does not know how to deal with the thoughts of you, that are rushing through him turbulent current.

All that Noa knows — he has to stop right now. Has to turn away, forget about this. Wait until you're dressed — and then follow you, still silently, ensuring safety.

And Noa certainly should not become like a scavenger. After what happened to you, you are free to not let any man touch you. The lingering thoughts about you — that what will only make Noah feel worse right now. He is not even a human man. He is a beast that you will continue to hide from, no matter what your life in your new home is like.

Noa rely — if he does not indulge his own fantasies, everything will remain the same.

World sounds and moves again, but the rhythm is completely different. The dark silence is filled with repercussions and undertones. Noa watches as you peer fearfully into the leaves rustling from his strained breathing.

World will never be the same for Noa again.

Noah curses himself for his uneven thoughts, as your wet hair shines, clinging to your tempting silhouette.

But he is obliged to hide all thoughts more reliably than you hide, again clutching on boulder.

In order not to disturb you, not to make a single unnecessary sound, Noa clenches his jaw. His larynx is constricted with frustration. What is he hoping for? He is an ape. You can hardly trust him. You have absorbed the fear of apes, probably, from the moment of birth. People teach their children to be quiet and afraid, so that they survive this invisible, multi-year struggle. People teach their children both to avoid battles and to fight apes.

Noa feels captivated by your beauty. Losed in this battle. And the strength he used in the fight will not help him free himself from this captivity.

Beauty shimmers in every your fleeting movement, in every flutter of your eyelashes. Beauty is at your fingertips. Beauty is in your voice, when you threaten the thick evening, assuring that you are armed.

If it were anyone else here right now — these would be the last words left on your lips.

From your body and your soul would have be nothing but scraps. You have just literally pointed the hunter to you, the victim.

Listening to the melody of your voice, Noa almost falls to his knees — as if you finished him off, relieving him of torment. Listening to your voice, when it is full of confidence and shoreless, just as the lake enveloping your body is shoreless now, is a blessing for Noa. Unexpecting. In response to any action of Noa you hide, scream and cry — in the short time spent with you, he got used to this and decided that for his ears you will not sound any different.

But you talk to the forest in a way that makes Noa petrified. He would give anything, for you to talk to him like that.

It seems like a dumb wish — Noa would do anything, to you say something to him. At least even just one word, eye to eye.

But what needs to happen, for you do this?

Perhaps, even if snow covers the slopes in the middle of summer — inside you nothing will grow instead of fear. Noa laughs in vexation — no matter what he does, you will always feel like you are a little cornered animal and someone's gaping maw is about to eat you up.

Standing unacceptably close, Noa growls gutturally. Unrecognizable — so that you decide that the forest beast has taken you for prey. So that you think about how to protect yourself on your next willfully foray. Because, obviously, you will go off alone to who knows where more than once.

***

Noa leaves the worst, most menacing thing in him in a growl that resound for miles. He barely recognizes himself, but he continues even more louder — so that you do not guess anything.

You will never know he saw you like this. So enchanting, so pristine.

Because you are destined not for his gaze.

You turn your head back and forth, making splashes. Water hits Noa's bristling fur, sobering him up. Silently retreating step by step, Noa thinks, this is conveniently. Otherwise, he was not have been able to cope with the unknown feeling you have kindled in him. He walks away to the glade, where the flower petals shared with you their scent.

The leaves, surrounding the lake, no longer rustle.

***

From the thundering growl you afraid to drop your heart to the bottom of the lake. You count the seconds, until the inhuman noise stops. You wait - and dive into the depths to reach the shore unnoticed.

At first, heard breathing among the trees, you thought — they has come to kill you.

Damn bastards of the settlement. When you were a child newly trapped in their rusty dungeon, they punish with death a woman who had climbed to the surface. Said she was infected, cursed by demons swarming the surface, that she would bring death to all unless she was gotten rid of. Shot her. Carried on, as nothing had happened, their fanatical blathering, as if it were the for edification.

That terrible event deprived you of any desire to escape. But you kept inside you your only truth.

They lied and jeered. Hell was there. Find a way out was impossible.

You would have accepted your fate sooner or later, like everyone else living here. If they hadn't done the same thing, that you hated them for, once again. When you were so small you could barely pronounce your own name — you could't help your blood mother and father. And even as an adult, you couldn't have time to save your foster mother and father — there no way you could have overtake two fired from a pistol bullets.

But you were able to find weapons there, where you weren't allowed to enter without order.

You were able to kill one of them.

You were able to escape so far.

If it were them — you would have to pray to God, that death would take you before they could carry out the punishment, that awaits you for every broken rule.

But when the growl rang out, you felt that anxiety dripping from you along with the water.

Anything more stupid, than rejoicing at the growl of a hungry beast, you can't even imagine.

But they are cowards. You've heard a lot of their dead drunk talk while exploring the dungeon corridors. They know where the prey is found, and where the predators is found. And they've never hunted where they could be attacked by those who rightfully own the land above. It means, they sure don't turn up over here.

So, whoever made that deafening roar — you thanked fate.

Approach the shore, you reach out to the light-blue fabric to quickly put it on and tie it around yourself. All that remains is to wash the dirty rags, which you do in a hurry.

Still, Noa asked you to come back before dark.

Darkness descended the forest without warning. Your tank top and shorts are drying right on you. From barely squizzed shirt, that you've wore over the thin fabric, dripping drops. The wind is pulling your hair in all directions, heralding a cold night to come.

Along the way, you look back to wish the flowers survive the badweather.

The path leads you to the apes's huts. To your hut, where you have to settle in and tidy up. The dwellings are visible, hanging lights show the way. All the work for today is done, everyone is probably heading to the nests. You yawn.

You look ahead. The routine arranged by the apes is boiling, just as it was when you came here as a stranger. Surely, you didn't hallucinated, due to wounds, exhaustion and cold exposure, and life here flows peacefully?..

You turn carefully to tap your look at the doe with her little deer. They seem as like hugging.

They not afraid of you, not at all.

They see you, and they don't hide in the forest, as you take a few short steps toward them. You stretch out an open hand, and with your fingertips you stroke the doe's honey-brown fur. You know from books, that deer are not easy to see. They wary and unnoticeable. Why then does this forest mother like speak to you about something? Her dark eyes look at you and the top of the fawn's head. She allows you to caress her baby, and it cuddles into your palm.

You smile, transforming all yourself into a carefulness, so as not to disturb them. You would stay in this moment forever, standing next to the doe and fawn.

It's similar to what were taken away from you twice family warmth.

The glade illuminating, as if it were a sunny morning. Embracing you in-deer maneer, the mother and child leave. You know for some reason, that you will see them again — after all forward there are many sunsets and sunrises.

Seeing your hut, you walk faster.

Questions that were scurrying through your head this morning are still scurrying. The clan's abutments still seem strange to you, because you yet know almost nothing. You are healthy, but still weak. But now you feel a warming hope.

And in any case, you cross the threshold of a new home, thinking not about yesterday, but about tomorrow.