Clean Hands: The Womb, #1

By Richard B Knight

Acting as a prequel to the events of The Darkness of the Womb, this standalone story centers around the Archetype, Instinct. His mission is to journey inside the mind of a dreamer in order to influence them to make a crucial decision that will affect the rest of history. But dreams are unpredictable,  and Instinct finds himself on shaky ground once he enters the dream world. Will he survive his mission, or will he find that even he, the embodiment of mankind's Instinct, can't even handle the world of the subconscious?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Richard B Knight
• Release date: Jul 20, 2015
• ISBN: 9781516381821

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I

The air was creamy, like goat’s milk, and a warm, but demanding wind rubbed Galahad’s face and rustled through his clothes and hair. Each gust pushed him toward the rectangular entrance of the pyramid.

Hello, he called into the entryway. His voice echoed, even though he couldn’t imagine the interior to be so cavernous.

How had he gotten here? One moment, he was sinking into a deep sleep, and the next, he was stepping through a shadowy fog and into the desert. The sand crunched beneath his sandals.

All at once, the horizon rushed forward, as if the land itself was being swallowed up by some giant, invisible serpent. Galahad whimpered and darted into the pyramid.

Fetid air instantly grappled his face. He reared back, but it had already infiltrated his nose and mouth. The taste of something spoiled and squishy, like a rotten tomato, clung to his tongue. The rancid, pulpy taste pushed its way down his gullet. His chest rose and fell with sharp, unfulfilled breaths as warm, foul-smelling piss snaked down his leg.

He retreated into the doorway, but his back felt only hard stone, a wall where his only means of escape had been. A blanket of darkness engulfed him.

Wait! Galahad scratched frantically at the rough surface. I wasn’t ready!

The inner world of the pyramid shifted behind him. Nearby, two shrill voices called out, each gasping and screaming for air, as if drowning. He pictured two children, their small hands reaching up for him, just out of reach. This vision of their wavy, frightened faces shook Galahad so violently that it forced him to turn and face whatever horrors awaited him.

A dry, sterile light fell upon the space. Its dull luminescence pushed back the darkness ever so slightly to reveal