Jacob In Coma II

Jacob floated in a sea of memories, each one more vivid and enticing than the last. He had agreed to the ancient process of recovering his lost memories two days ago, and since he had sunk into the soil bed, he hadn't woken up.

The healer had warned him that the journey would be perilous, that he might get lost in the labyrinth of his own mind. But Jacob had been desperate. He needed to remember, needed to reclaim the pieces of his past that had been torn away. He needed to overcome the taint that the vile creature of the undead had left on him. If he had decided the easy way out, he knew that he would never have forgiven himself.

The first three hours had been agonizing. He had felt his body convulsing, his muscles straining against an invisible force. The spasms were violent, jerking him around like a puppet on strings. He had thrashed on the soil bed, gasping for breath, his mind bombarded with fragmented images and sensations. It was as if every memory he had ever had was tryi