I'd be pretty happy to get some feedback on the beginning of my novel. This probably won't be the final product, so feedback is very much appreciated.
The kicks that had been raining down on him just moments ago began to fade. The screams of the men grew muffled, but their faces burned themselves into Levin’s eyes.
When he opened his eyes again, he saw nothing. Only darkness.
It wasn't clear to him what he was lying on; everything felt numb. For a moment, Levin thought he was floating—unsure if he was even still alive. Actually, there was nothing to hear but the rushing in his own brain. His attempts to move fingers, toes—anything—remained unsuccessful.
With eyes half-open, Levin forced a small smile onto his lips. Levin had no idea what kind of face he was making. How his body lay, or floated—regardless, he couldn’t help but look up. When he could no longer keep his eyes open, he closed them. There were worse things than death, if this really meant his death.
(To hell with it all...)
His inner voice wasn't agitated. Rather, it was calm, slightly optimistic. He had nothing more to lose than himself and a dirty life in a dirty city with dirty people...
When Levin came to, he wrapped his arms around himself. He got goosebumps immediately. His breath condensed before him. He straightened up slowly, first with both arms, then just with one. He balled a fist, eyebrow raised, and brushed against the hard ground he was lying on.
Stone.
When he looked up, light from the night sky fell into his eyes. It was the moon. Not quite as he knew it, as that gray, moody shapeshifter among the stars. This moon existed "here" too, but it wasn't alone.
That was also the first moment Levin realized that this place "here" couldn't be Earth.
The familiar moon hung in the night sky—Levin believed he could recognize it in any world, as often as he’d seen it—but below it hung two others. One glowed blue-green. Levin knew the color from his visit to the sea. In his hometown, it was always a myth what such a thing looked like, but Levin had been allowed to see it! The sea.
It wasn't as blue as Levin had thought—partly, yes—but it reflected in many colors, especially green, which perhaps came from all the trash lying in it. A greasy substance floated on the surface, providing all the colors of the rainbow. It was ugly. Still, he thanked his gang leader in Gorra—back on Earth—for taking him there.
The other moon, however, was black. A cut in the sky that Levin only saw because of the surrounding stars. Levin narrowed his eyes as he inspected the sky. His body froze, his face twisting.
(This isn't Gorra... This can't be Earth, right?! Was I marked, too? I didn't show any symptoms, what a load of crap!)
As Levin checked his own body for damage or missing limbs, and especially for the mark, his body shuddered once more. The mark was hard to miss. Only now did it start to itch.
Beneath Levin’s torn clothes, stitched together from scraps of fabric, the mark lay on his skin like coal. It painted the ribs beneath his right pectoral black without shame. Levin craned his head back to grasp the extent of this stain. Levin's right side was stained from near his navel to just before his spine, with a few tendril-like sweeps at the borders.
Levin knew what a mark meant. When a mark appeared on humans, they vanished from Earth after three days—or so the stories went; Levin didn't believe in myths.
Levin ran his hand over the mark, eyes wide. It pulsed slightly, but the sensation echoed through his entire body. Levin's hand twitched, as if it wanted to scrape the mark off, skin and all. Levin jerked his hand away. It was as if his hand had developed its own consciousness that wanted to drive out everything foreign—and the mark definitely belonged to that category.
(Careful now...)
When wandering in strange lands, one had to be careful, above all else. Shortly after, the black tendrils on his skin swayed minimally and immediately retreated to their original position.
Somehow, Levin saw everything very clearly. Too clearly. At every movement, his head jerked almost mechanically, picking up movements or sounds Levin had never heard or seen before. The light of the moons flickered briefly, as if something flew through it. It left a whistling vibration in the air.
Levin removed his hand from the mark again—it’s probably best not to mess with it, he thought. First things first: know exactly where I am. Find water and food.
Levin's legs obeyed his thoughts and they were not disfigured, as he initially assumed. That must have been a dream or a place between the two worlds. But he was sure that those men on Earth had beaten him crippled, literally.
(But everything’s back in place!)
This made Levin's eyes go wide. His head swiveled left and right. To the left, a narrow hole led to the night sky. Around the hole was stone.
(A cave, then...)
Levin walked along the cave wall with one hand outstretched. And he did so even though he could see everything clearly, despite the night sky. Outside the cave, a small platform extended out, but it led into nothingness. A cliff that dropped hundreds of meters into the depths.
Saliva forced its way down Levin’s throat at the sight. His body froze, as well as his blue eyes, which just seemed empty.
He looked back up at the three moons. He had to shield his eyes with his hand, as if their light blinded like the sun. And realized—he had escaped. The shithole that called itself Gorra lay behind him.
An open land, completely unknown, lay before him. Never before had Levin felt so free that he spread his arms, as if to fly along with the night breeze. But his arms couldn’t reach beyond their own length. Still, his heart beat a little faster; he didn't even notice his own shallow hyperventilation. He also missed the small, contented smile on his face.
(Where have I ended up?) wondered Levin.
